May 31, part two: why... (5 minutes)

...did I let that security guard intimidate me?
...didn't I remember to take Dillon's harness?
...did I call Johnny today?
...am I such a liar?
...did I let my whiteness and his blackness come up for me, make me act different?
...can't I let it go?
...is it still with me?
...aren't I meditating?
...am I not finished with my novel?
...am I whining?
...didn't I feel more inclined to be generous?
...do I beat myself up so much?
...ask why?
...am I in chronic pain?
...am I here?
...is that man's face stuck in my head?
...why am I such a racist?
...can't I do better?
...shouldn't I learn from this experience?
...do I feel threatened?
...was it so hard not to lose my cool?
...did I think I was cool at all?
...am I so beat?
...am I such a sugar addict?
...shouldn't I be proud of myself?
...not?

May 31, part one: village (10 minutes)

Rice Village Houston, sitting outside of a Thai restaurant, waiting for two orders of pad thai -- one mild, one spicy; one shrimp, one veggie -- to take back to the hospital for John and myself.

Back in Houston again, blah, blah, blah.

I needed to kill some extra time so I went into the five-and-dime store. A pixie of a little woman sparkled and cooed and asked me if she could help me. I was looking for a wooden fruit juicer, had found the glass and plastic ones. She was so upset that she didn't have them. "Nope," she said after surveying the general area briefly, "we haven't seen any of those for at least a couple of years."

One wants to buy something when visiting a five-and-dime. There are so many trinkets, gadgets, knick-knacks, crap, useful stuff, it's all thrown in together. I walked up and down the crowded aisles and left with a book of Mad Libs! Something to do with John later perhaps.

I don't love Houston but I do love the Village. Or I did. The old Village. Back when I lived here -- almost twenty years ago now! -- I wanted so badly to work in the Village. Eventually I did. My seriously self-hating boyfriend Billy worked at a patisserie, was friends with the manager of the Half-Price Books, which was where I got a job. Marcie worked a door or two away from me at a fancy girl shop, but I didn't know Marcie all that well then, or not right then or something. I kind of dropped all of my old friends when I hooked up with Jo, got married.

Funny, Marcie married Joe's son Jason's ex-girlfriend Monica's brother Jeff. That was kind of how Marcie and I got reacquainted.

Well, we never lost contact completely. We used to write each other beautiful, elaborate notes. Letters. Hers came from all over the world, mine came from the Heights.