Missing: Berkeley

Boy oh boy do I miss being in good ole' Berkeley Califor-nay-eh. I miss the thaw of clouds rolling in and blocking out the sun. I miss the wind. I miss the homeless people . I miss being in school because it gives me something to do. Boy oh boy. Okay, maybe not so much the homeless people, but the sense of community Berkeley hurls at me us deeply missed. And, okay, fine, the homeless are a huge part of that community. Geez.

You should see how jealous I get when friends tell me the are in Berkeley, visiting Berkeley, tabling for CalSO, hanging out in Berkeley, working there, blah blah blah. I swear I have some sort of jealousy/control complex, a if Berkeley is my woman and all these people are asking her to dance at Janey-Sue's wedding reception. And I am mad, but remain off to the side keeping the rage in and when Berkeley comes over and says "you all right?" I just shrug, look away, take a drag on muh grit. Keep that anger inside just like a man should.

And when I look at the new title of this blog and the absolute ridiculousness (satisfying because of its shadow of wit) I get all pissy. Because I miss Berkeley. Today and the next day and the next are not A Day at Berkeley (.blogspot.com) at all; it's A Day at Unberkeley. And I feel unme. Location has as much effect on my psyche as nature and nurture. But I'm dealing.

I guess what I'm really saying here is this: Stop telling me when you are in Berkeley, people, for the love of God. It breaks my heart into a million little pieces.