when we got back we were like IT'S POPSICLE TIME so we ate popsicles and then when we finished we were like IT'S POOL TIME so we sunscreened up and did pool time and read david sedaris and watched this lanky little kid, maybe two or three, flirt with everybody and run away from his dad. we pulled up chairs to the closest thing we could get to sunshine (wtf, pine trees) and this girl said hey and she turned out to be super friendly which is - not a new thing, but like, an unusual thing, you know? for someone to just go, hey, i'm savannah, what's up. but then it got weirdly cold and i got hungry on account of all we'd eaten that day was blueberry pancakes so then we were like MEXICAN FOOD and sarah said she knew this place called dos taquitos...
so we ate at dos taquitos! i don't know if it counts as lunch cause it was so late but that's what we called it and it was one of the best lunches ever. we sat at this picnic table outside and the weather was just perfect and lovely and so was the food. we filled our bellies with cilantro rice, chips and fresh fresh salsa, plantains, a bean and queso filled chimichanga. heavenly. and i asked what was vegetarian and then i asked for rice and the waiter was thoughtful enough to tell me that their regular rice had chicken stock in it (PSA - chicken stock is not vegetarian. i found out recently that not everyone knows this while chowing down on some pilaf) and i just really appreciated that kind of thoughfulness, ya know? also their uniforms were just tshirts they'd puff painted. and there was a train that went around the whole restaurant up near the ceiling. and posters of frida kahlo on the wall which prompted a reading of this letter from frida to her buddy:
Leaving is not enough. You must stay gone. Train your heart like a dog.
Change the locks even on the house he’s never visited. You lucky, lucky
girl. You have an apartment just your size. A bathtub full of tea. A
heart the size of Arizona, but not nearly so arid. Don’t wish away your
cracked past, your crooked toes, your problems are papier mache puppets
you made or bought because the vendor at the market was so compelling
you just had to have them. You had to have him. And you did. And now you
pull down the bridge between your houses, you make him call before he
visits, you take a lover for granted, you take a lover who looks at you
like maybe you are magic. Make the first bottle you consume in this
place a relic. Place it on whatever altar you fashion with a knife and
five cranberries. Don’t lose too much weight. Stupid girls are always
trying to disappear as revenge. And you are not stupid. You loved a man
with more hands than a parade of beggars, and here you stand. Heart like
a four-poster bed. Heart like a canvas. Heart leaking something so
strong they can smell it in the street.
which is probably the best thing to read to get over a breakup (i can't be sure though, i haven't tried it). stupid girls are always
trying to disappear as revenge, and you are not stupid? love. so thank you, dos taquitos, for delicious comida and frida kahlo's eyebrows/poetry.
