The benefit of making breakfast for others is being exempt from washing dishes. I like time for myself. I think I have a pretty good time alone. For instance, after entertaining(supervising) my niece, who I adore, I drove to Vromans in Pasadena to buy my friend a birthday gift. I could have phoned a different friend for company but the sad truth is that I like the company of strangers. Her birthday is tomorrow and the plan is to have the early portion of the day to ourselves. I bought her something I know she'll be happy to have, though I really want her to remember me and think of me when she's near it. In the cafe, the one adjacent to the bookstore, I ordered Iced Coffee. I'm not a regular coffee drinker. The guy even looked at me with an expression of doubt despite the vocal clarity of my order.
In front of the large window overlooking the city's main boulevard, I wrote my dad a letter. I described my surroundings: the transparent cup of iced coffee identical to coca cola, the japanese restaurant across the street I frequented with my mother(and a short praise to Japanese Culture for understanding the secret of real comfort, that of aesthetics, simplicity and tranquility) the independent movie theatre next door and the way these places belong to parts of my adolescence.
When I finished, I thought about making weekly visits to the local post-office.
