I Am Not Afraid
18 December 2013
Fresno again. Hearing today. The glory of being alone in a hotel room has pretty well worn off. I just want to be home.
Usually when I’m in a hotel I get so much work done, like on the Mudrick book. But last night I spent about forty-five minutes driving around Fresno looking for some tamales that I’d ordered over the phone. The interior light in the rental car wouldn’t turn off no matter how many times I pressed the buttons. There were two lights side by side and a botton for each. Long press, short press, press both together, alternate left and right presses. Traffic. Radio.
I ordered enough tamales for two nights: New Mexico Chile Pork, Chorizo con Papas, Portobello and Asparagus, Chicken with Mole, and Triple Chocolate Cake. This last item was a tamale, as unlikely as that sounds, and it was pretty great. The two I’m saving for tonight will have aged at room temperature in the hotel room for twenty four hours by the time I eat them. I am not afraid. Perhaps I’ll use my food allowance to order a gigantic margarita from room service. O Ye California Tax Payers, take heed!
I watched two Dexters on my computer and ate and went to bed. I dreamed about Max—the Max of this diary. We walked out of the front doors of the College of Creative Studies talking about allergy medicine. It had to do with cones and receptors.