On the way to the Mountain View Farmers Market, you pulled up to a Chevron just off Shoreline, and even though you still had a fourth of a tank of gas, you paid almost $50 to fill up.
You were afraid of spending too much at the Farmers Market, but you couldn’t even get close enough to the bread or the tomatoes to be tempted.
You did not feel like seeing: “Prom Night”, “The Forbidden Kingdom”, or that “Sarah Marshall” movie, and you might have wanted to watch “Where In The World is Osama Bin Laden,” but you didn’t feel like driving all the way to the Aquarius Theatre in Palo Alto.
You found yourself wishing you could write like Beth Alvarado, especially after reading her story, “Comadres in the Kitchen” : “Say, if someone were to come upon her and kill her, it could happen, or if she were to get in the car and just drive. That’s what she meant by aloneness; at the moment of death, it wouldn’t matter who was standing around your bed. The people in your life would be like saguaros: shadowy figures, standing guard but fading, unable to hear you.”
You wished you knew more about what goes with what. Such as what, for instance, would go well with a deep purple blouse, and whether how you dress for class affects how students perceive you — for instance, whether wearing something with ruffles makes you look “girly” and insubstantial, as opposed to wearing a suit — and whether, in the end, it matters.