protostome

Every living minute = me counting down until the time my parents finally leave.

Once again, they go through my living quarters like a whirling dervish and scatter my belongings into obscure places in my apartment never to be seen again.

Repeat to myself: one more day. One more day and they'll be gone.

Grant Place Restaurant. Location: Chinatown. Granted it wasn't even on Grant Street to begin with, this place that my parents had unwittingly chosen brought back sweet memories of a place I once went to: D & A Cafe. Sweet in the sense that the soup, spaghetti, and corn were all loaded with too much sugar, the service was terrible, and the overall experience sucked big cajones. Their 炸酱面 is nowhere close to the satisfactory level of cooking that was/is Fufu. How does it taste to eat out a pregnant woman? Exactly. That's what I was imagining as I bit into these snails that my Dad had ordered, only to find the sound of grinding sand in my mouth. The gritty sand came from the broken shells of baby snails dormant within the mother's body cavity. Although I ate about 30 of them, only because my father kept throwing them onto my awful noodles, they tasted just as poorly as the noodles. These people must have developed their ass/mouth openings in opposite directions from the rest of us. I don't know how they can eat this themselves and then think it's okay to feed it to the public. C+.

I should have known better than to have walked into that debacle. Just moments before, I walked past this rack of mini-license plates, and the first name catching my eye was Drab's, which should have set off huge red flags for me, seeing this omen of ill things to come. (I was going to follow that sentence with, yes, they came, and came, and came, into my mouth, but that probably would have been read out of context.)

Experiences like this just makes me want to go back to Houston where their Chinatown just doesn't disappoint as consistently as the one in San Francisco.

UGH. I don't know when my parents are leaving, and I don't feel like asking them. I'm in hell!

Random thought floating in my head while I was down in LA:
me meeting/seeing Kaiser in Houston, finally.
her running up to me and jumping onto me to hug me.
Me stumbling, both of us falling down.
Us falling onto some pike, piercing the both of us.
My retort: "At least you didn't break my heart."
"I shouldn't be making jokes at a time like this, huh?"
"Can we get AIDS from something like this?"

So my head works in strange ways.