i got you something way back in the day, too.

it's a present; ni idea what's inside. that's not the point guey...my panda (Rosie) wore underwear, not sure about yours. 1314 fulton street, san francisco, califas. like it was yesterday. i have (a) few still images in my mem banks from 1314 fulton street, san francisco, califas. one includes my father making breakfast in a sparse kitchen. another includes standing at the foot of my parents' bed watching them sleep and frightened to wake them up but also just frightened - and awake; my mother sensed my presence there, my father slept. their windows faced fulton street. our cat, mosa, was mostly useless. i remember the bathroom, i remember the mirror on the wall across from the bathroom. i remember my uncle beto in that house. i remember the tv and the rug and sitting there, small and in sweat pants. i remember my bare feet on that rug, twirling in skirts and tutus, untrained but capable. i remember living it. i remember the maroon, and the grey, and the room molly lived in. i remember the slanted ceilings, and the moosehead beers. that strip of fulton intersects divisadero, which takes you into the castro or into the marina, depending on your agenda. the last time i was there was 2006, when we went to a show at the independent. but every time i passed that street i always remembered my mother jogging from that part of fulton west, completely west, through the inescapable fog and over uprooted dirt paths, in her purple and white striped running shorts, out, out, out in to the breakers...