The leaves do fall

September 25, 2001

i am so unamused with these last blasts of hot air. isn’t it supposed to be fall? last night, i took a nap after dinner, and woke up feeling sticky and gross and disoriented. indian summer, i muttered, and dragged myself out of bed.

seth and stella rescued me from my oven-baked house and we ended up on the road to monterey park, where they make all good things asian. i really wanted boba, but they were out, so instead we ordered fruity milkshakes, chow fun and fried rice. we also had fried yams, but they were nothing like i thought they’d be. grandma used to fry up slices and sprinkle sugar on top for an after-school treat. i still remember that.

back at home, i looked at the pile of pants on the floor and put together outfits in my head and projected coolness, all around me, i thought of breezes and zipping jackets all the way up. i know it’s kind of ridiculous to think about, it being 90 degrees outside and all, but the leaves are already falling in my mind.


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