Bomb the girl in the suburbs. She needs to escape.

Being attacked by memories.

The Scene:

May 2008

Sitting at Espresso Metro... girl about to start her period, moody feelings washing over her.
The girls face, posture and silhouette shift as the ballading of Ani DiFranco blasts out of the speakers...assaulting her. She appears in one moment euphoric and in the next deeply sad, even lost.


The Scene:

May 1996

The GOP is about to take over Congress and this same girl is living in the Mission several years before gentrification.

A MONTAGE shows her character and interests as follows:

Learning to bake her own bread from yeast. Rolling out the dough and watching the rain drip down the salty city windows as Ranchero music whistles through the cracked windows of her 3rd floor flat.

She has a rat named Stevie and then one named Maud-dib

She BBS's on her 4800 Baud modem from her Apple Powerbook and uses the IRC chat to talk politics with international types.

THE FOLLOWING SCENES WERE EDITED OUT.

She discovers her first kinky fetish, masturbating while eating Ben and Jerry's 'Cookie Dough' Ice Cream...and then several other flavours after that.

She writes short stories at the Bearded Lady and goes to 18 and over lesbian sex clubs South of Market until she can start getting into the Stud at 21.

END MONTAGE.


I feel embarrassed by how easy it is for me to fall back into my feelings at 19 years old.

Slightly sickened that I could be so easily manipulated by myself.

Shocked at looking with my 19 year old eyes -at my 32 year old self.

When did all this happen?

I pull at the soft skin of my inner elbow.
One of the voices says to me...

'I've got to get out of this place.'..

..Even though it's the very place I've manifested. Now I'm suddenly embarrassed by myself.

Here are some Sacramento secret-wishes I hide.

1
I want to crawl right back into my irreplaceable brown Dickies from Joe Sun, harvest a burrito from Pescados and settle into my notebook with a soy latte at Greta's.

But none of these places exist anymore.

What happened to my god damn town.
Where did she go?

I guess she's disappearing. Just like all those 1990's parts of me.

I know its cooler now. I know. I know. I know.
Maybe if I say it enough times... I'll actually believe it.

2
With Filibuster on stage at The Press Club..I want to be crammed in the back hallway along the dirty graffiti'ed walls with all the punk rockers and rockabilly types. Me thinking in saxophone riffs while the hipsters of the day shoot up. Ogling all the older tatoo'ed girls with my barely legal tortoise shell rims- my notebook almost always in tow ...or scribbles of rant on bar napkin edges.


I wonder what my 19 year old eyes would have made of me, a pretty little house wife who lives Up-town.. with all sorts of dirty secrets rattling around in her head.

I guess I'll never know.