I walked to work a few times. It was nice to be outside in the morning. Each day I took a different route. I saw some stuff.

On Mission Street:

Next to the railroad tracks:

Chip invited me to a party featuring delicious food, nice people, live music, and plenty of lava lamps.

The next night I went with Peter and Shawna to a reading by Jonathan Franzen.

Before Franzen:

I had to take pictures during this reading because I was so hungry I could barely concentrate. Peter’s stomach growled audibly during the entire thing. This made me feel less alone in my hunger, and infinitely more desperate to eat.

During Franzen:

Franzen read us a nonfiction piece. By some strange chance, this happened to be the only Franzen writing I’ve ever read. I think he said he’s not going to write any more of the nonfiction stuff, that it’s too restricting. He said some other interesting things afterwards but I was too hungry to store them in my long-term memory.

At last, we ended up at the Santa Cruz Diner. Peter’s boyfriend was there, but we gently deflected him.

A turkey burger saved my life, and Peter was a great listener, all the way to the end of the pie.

Up next (in my life, not necessarily on this website): New kinds of conversations with family members, made possible by the gradual unfreezing of my heart.