pennsylvania

+ i've been reading so much. i'm reading about russia. a travelogue from 1964 by a british author, laurens van der post. in portland i read caroline adderson's pleased to meet you, more short stories. in august i read born on the forth of july, which is such a great title. i read the ugly american and followed it up with too many vietnam war movies. i re-read margaret atwood's surfacing, finishing it off while listening to the mountain goats, get lonely, on repeat. that same night i read and read about the pinetree line, radar stations strung across the country, the last line of NORAD, the last outposts of the cold war. mt lolo in kamloops, radar hill in tofino, a hundred more across the landscape.

+ on the way to portland we stopped at a post-mall north of everett, in washington. i felt as if i was very close to heart of it all, the heart of the beast. what's actually going on in the united states. washington is one of only 3 states to have all-female senate delegations, along with maine and california. what's actually happening in the united states. i watched a documentary about baseball, the somerset patriots. minor-league baseball in new jersey. the vancouver canadians are the only canadian team in their league. i live in vancouver, so why do i watch baseball? it's someone else's sport. maybe i just pretend to understand it, the rhythm of it. american teens at the post-mall wearing baseball caps, baseball shirts. outlet stores.

+ and there was a day in 2002 when it really felt like fall. taking the skytrain into work downtown and reading 11 great horror stories. it's almost that time again, now. listening to the sundays and drinking tea. reading all of my homework on a saturday. taking the bus to school in the cold, breaking through the top of the clouds on gaglardi way. reading horror stories and articles about globalization. this is my seventh fall semester at SFU, and i'm still reading articles about globalization on the bus. i'm not expectant anymore, i'm not hopeful. i'm almost done.

+ in pennsylvania there is an abandoned section of turnpike just outside of pittsburgh full of tunnels. they built a bypass to avoid the tunnels, to snake around the hills instead of under them, but the tunnels are still there. they just aren't used anymore. i can only imagine this place existing in fall. old highway markers and crumbling asphalt covered in dead leaves. orange trees and yellow trees.

+ i would make a list, books i've read, books to read, but it'll come out naturally anyway.