box cars are hanging in the yard/jealous lovin'll make you crazy

Because I just got a phone call accusing me of perhaps glossing over things a bit, maybe being a little heartless and possibly too happy-sounding about being up here, here is a list of things that I miss: crab rangoon from Yum Yum House, candied eggplant from Chef Jia's, the salade de maree and raspberry digestif that tastes like sweet paint thinner at Ti Couz, the part of the BART ride from SF to Oaktown where the train comes soaring up out of the bay tunnel and flies by the derricks (which, of course, remind me of Star Wars) and the box cars (which remind me of a Joni Mitchell song-- see title above), the park bench at Point Lobos, watching the sun set on the Great Highway with a face full of ocean spray and your feet on banks of springy flowered succulents, the various curves and Christmas lights of Lake Merritt, movies (both theaters and Netflix), my adorable and insightful roommate La Sirena and our shared worship of Sparklemotion's tiny face, dinners with my foodie friends, thrifting and watching the busy Thrift Town ladies battle shoplifters and bums, and-- St. Vitus, king of the silly dance, driver of car, bowler supreme, maker of teas, fount of obscure ethnobotanical wisdom, kisser of my apples. I miss you very much. So there.