Searching for sticky buns, infatuated with sticky buns. They were sitting in the counter, and then they were in the refrigerator. I wanted to eat them even though they had pecans on them, I would not be hindered.
We were in this arcade/airport/mall amalgamation, a combination of a dusty carnival Nathan's lookalike, a shaved ice shop the kind that had mangos and condensed milk shaved ice that I liked, and an Indian food stand that served samosas and tandoori chicken. Clearly I had Asia (namely Singapore and Taiwan) on the brain.
I went into the Nathan's lookalike and ordered a school lunch style pasta with meatballs and a happy meal with chicken nuggets and stale crinkle cut fries. Each meal cost about $18. Clearly I had overpriced airport/circus food on the brain.
And then a flurry of bird-brained chaos ensued. I forgot my happy meal, I couldn't find my keys. I went outside ( which looked like the entrance of Berkeley, and it was a sunny day) and got distracted by all the students with hats. I went back inside, and couldn't find my ring. My parents and family showed up, ready for our flight. I bought another side of fries and hid them in my pocket, but I still couldn't find my happy meal. My wallet hurt from the wasted $18. I found my keys. The cashier thought I was crazy.
I dreamt that George Eliot wrote Black Beauty, and that someone told me she also wrote a sequel, called Black Cat, about a kitten that wore a red ribbon bow. I remembered watching the cartoon version of Black Beauty over and over again in summer camp, the smell of damp mulch as we lined up to go into one of the classrooms on yet another rainy day. I felt a heavy rock of dread in my stomach when I remembered the scene where the girl had to give Black Beauty away.
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