January 28, 2013
Teresa (speaking as me): Oh dear! My butt is so big! Oh my!
All of us in the big bed around 5:30 talking about what we dreamed last night and what we should eat for the Super Bowl. Teresa dreamed she was in prison because she’d been fighting for some really good cause that she was the leader of but she couldn’t remember what it was. She wanted to ask one of her fellow prisoners what they had done, but since she was the leader and responsible for all of them being in prison, she couldn’t think of a way to bring it up. Enzo dreamed something about riding his bike along the top of a cliff with dinosaur bones.
But about the Super Bowl snacks. Enzo’s holding out for another Nacho Debacho. That’s what we had for the division finals, and the ’49ers won. Enzo credits the nachos. He also wants Japanese noodles. Teresa and I are wavering between tostadas and fancy grilled cheese sandwiches with good bread, lots of butter and fancy cheese. Also cake. And, for me, slightly-less-cheap red wine. Chips. Dips. It’s going to be fantastic.
Teresa read in the paper about a Japanese noodle place that delivers, and we’re thinking about secretly ordering some and it will just arrive and totally blow his mind.
Everyone around here roots for the ’49ers, so their games empty the streets. Last weekend during the game Enzo and I were hanging out in the back yard. It was sunny and not that cold and quiet as Christmas morning, except for, occasionally, cheers or groans up and down the block.
I used to walk around Isla Vista during the Super Bowl. It was still and dreamlike–you’re the last person left in the world.