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Friday, Feb. 24, 2006 - 15:54

[Wednesday]

20 birds fly in a perfect half-V -- a.k.a. a diagonal line -- over a nearly empty black(ish) sand beach in Costa Rica. Meanwhile I am independently inventing body surfing in water that is two degrees cooler than the air. (Measurements subject to exaggeration.) Meanwhile my swimming suit is independently inventing new ways to leave my body. Meanwhile everything is about to become illuminated in a book I have on my towel but at the moment I don't care because I am in the ocean. Meanwhile German boys are playing soccer -- the universal sport -- on the beach. Meanwhile crabs come out of their holes and scurry sideways.

[After dinner]

And now I finally understand why some people like the ocean so much -- it is endless hours of fun. No I never got it before -- Water, yes -- ocean, no. Yes I lived in Santa Barbara for three years but you go in the ocean there and tell me how you like it -- it's murky, there's seaweed, and it smells like oil.

And Spanish is a nice language and I am nearly fluent in it, except for all the parts that I don't know about. Ciudad y cuidado -- the linguistic and social relationships between the two: discuss.

It's dark at 6, it's light at, I don't know, too early, and I hate traveling and I always want it to be over. I miss Australia -- everything reminds me of Australia. Not everything, but many things: the plants, the tin roofs, the very vague vestiges, the ephemeral atmosphere of colonialism. I miss my bag from that trip, I miss my train rides, I miss my notebook, I miss Sydney, I miss Sydney Harbour and fucking Darling Harbour and Wooloomooloo Bay. I miss that hostel I always stayed at in Brisbane, I miss the farm, I miss Triple J. I miss Australian wit and Australian friendliness and Australian English. I also miss knowing the three things -- thinking, writing, and listening to music -- that were important to me.