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De File
Does Collecting Make You Feel Dirty?
Cold, Cloud
This time I'm at a cybercafe in Horton Plaza because I'm in too dark a space to pretend I'm having fun at the MLA.

It has not been a good morning. Miscommunication all around. Madness. Sadness.

Downtown San Diego isn't much help either. The first time we came here, we were still living in our tiny temporary housing in Tucson, before our house was finished.

We were horribly homesick. We were miserable. We were tired.

And, compared to Tucson, the relatively "urban" blocks of San Diego gave us a small taste of what we were missing.

Even this mall looked good: airy, bright, interesting.

Now it looks like more of the same. And instead of noticing cool shops in the surrouning historic sections of town, I just remark the plethora of smoke shops and steak houses.

This is clearly still a Republican town. The food is overpriced and not that good. The people aren't that good looking. The culture is barely a notch above Tucson in some areas and worse in others.

The beaches to the north are wonderful, of course. And there are plenty of funky strip malls a la Tucson.

But downtown isn't much to write about, unless, of course, your experiencing a dark spell in which you are writing about whatever you can in order to avoid writing about what's really on your mind.
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