Lunch with Xander

Exhausted at work, trying to kick the minor caffeine habit. I like the idea of habit and routine- but not the reliance or addiction it may encourage. I don't want to be addicted to anything. But I could use more structure, and more zing! in the morning. A couple glasses of water doesn't quite get you going like a steamy chai tea latte.

Yesterday was sunny, Memorial Day. I totally forgot to memorialize. Ironic?

A moment of meditation for all those who have served, and honor to my grandfather, who is thankfully still here to tell his war stories. My favorite one is about the guy who somehow knew the day he was going to die, wearing his coat on a hot day, feeling so cold. He was also from New Mexico-- which I consider to be the most mysterious state in the nation.

I had lunch with my friend Xander yesterday. I met him in Ulan Bataar, Mongolian, he was a social studies teacher at a local Mongolian high school and I was writing for the English paper, the Ulan Bataar Post. It was trivia night at the expat pub. I played with some Peace Corps volunteers who hailed from various remote parts of the country to do some organizational stuff in the capital. I helped my team with one answer. I knew the name of the Russian dog that had been sent to the moon, Laika.

Anyway, now Xander and I both live in San Francisco and instead of lunch in the remote countryside where we each were riding horses into the Mongolian steppe, we now walk around and patronize cute brunch eateries. While I much prefer tofu scrambles and freshly squeezed OJ to endless bowls of mutton dumplings, there was something a bit off in walking with Xander down Valencia Street. Where was the cool lake air? I am too tired to go into all the thoughts I had about Mongolia and loss and thinking to myself, Why can't I just walk down the street and have it be just that- walking down the street? Why does it become an elegy to past sacred experiences that are so distant and no longer?

Xander and I were looking for Virginia Woolf's Mrs. Dalloway. Every used bookstore had Orlando or To the Lighthouse....but Mrs. Dalloway is in hiding. I believe so deeply in supporting used and independent booksellers. But I'm afraid the Amazon is the only place Mrs.Dalloway cannot hide.

Back to work. Fingers heavy.