Go Bears

Imagine how happy a rehabilitated bird of prey must be when she's released back into her habitat.

 You, Reader, imagine it. I don't have to, because I'm certain I understand the feeling: after three weeks away, I'm finally back in Berkeley.

Yesterday I stepped out of the Oakland airport, into perfect, 75-degree weather, with no humidity. I walked through this clear blue day directly to public transportation, which I get for free as a student.

Arriving at my apartment, I found it to be intolerably hot because it has no air conditioning and very poor ventilation. Not to worry, though! I walked directly to a nearby secondhand store to buy a fan for my window. I ate an entire block of tofu for dinner and got ready for bed.

This morning I wake up hungry for a savory breakfast, so I eat a pack of dal and a scallion pancake. Then I put on my off-brand Birkenstocks and leave the apartment. I stop at a cafe for an oat milk latte for the walk, and a vegan soyrizo empanada to eat later for lunch. Just before 11am I arrive at my destination: the independent movie theatre to watch a screening of Maurice.

The cinema shows a very homemade-looking ad against upzoning and replacing the local Berkeley businesses with five-over-one apartment buildings; a PSA thanking us for supporting the "dream and the reality" of going to the movies; an announcement that all of their screenings on Tuesdays are captioned for accessibility; and a land acknowledgment. 

A brief digression: 

Maurice is an amazing film, by the way. I knew very little about it, because the Dark Academia girls on tumblr love it only for the first 30 minutes where they're students at Cambridge. But the whole movie is beautiful and gripping and devastating. Spectacular score with lots of classical music. The director does such a compelling job of showing how watched Clive and Maurice are all the time. You can never let your guard down, you can never fully show how you feel, because someone is always there to see. The sheer repression of the environment just starts to seep into your skin.

 After the movie, I walk to the local grocery store to buy ingredients for the next few meals I plan to make: Tabbouleh with chickpeas, pasta salad, and peanut noodles. I also get some apples and bananas for snacks. I walk home, carrying this heavy and bountiful harvest. I prep my tabbouleh and put it in the refrigerator. I realize I also want cherries so I can make a homemade sorbet. I ask my roommate what else she needs from the store, and I return to Berkeley Bowl, because the grocery store is so close I can just go there twice.

 

On the way there, I see a flyer for queer furry reiki. I scan the QR code. I still have not actually looked at the web page. I return to the store. I eat free samples of nectarines and buy two. I get mint and limes for Maya so she can keep making Brazilian limeade. I get two pounds of frozen cherries and vanilla extract for my sorbet. And, as a treat, I get an 8-pack of tangerine lacroix on sale, to make mocktails with.

 

On the way home, I see a flyer for "trauma-informed, neurodivergent-friendly" house cleaning.

 

I get home and start watching a video of 1970s encounter group therapy. While doing that, I eat a beautiful plate of tabbouleh lettuce cups and dolmas. 

 

And since then, I've just been chilling in my Berkeley apartment. So happy to be home.