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2001-05-25 || 12:51 p.m. || cleaning a fish || i am wearing a tie today, lookout. i am also learning how to clean a fish online. (there must be a grammatical error in there somewhere. sorry.) i feel guilty about learning to clean a fish. i have taken two sides on the subject. one: jenny. these are lovely beautiful fish and you are going to kill them and mutilate them and put them over fire and eat them. you are a terrible girl, you secretly carnivorous ex-vegetarian hypocrite. no one will want to be your friend with all those lost fish souls swimming around your head. and two: mmm. sharp knife and blood and guts and pulling the dorsal fin out taught to get a good slice. cut here cut there you are supposed to know what you are doing, you are a fisherman's daughter. dad would be proud. hem. it is the sentimentality of the fish. it is the connection to my dad. my dad: standing on the huntington beach pier aliso creek pier dana point harbor jetty with him for hours, both sunburnt, he in tiny op corduroy shorts and navy blue vans, me in tank top and flip flops. underhand casting. baiting the hook. flicking your wrist and pulling the line. genus and species and there is a scientist under those fish scales and hawaiian tropic tanning oil, he is trying to teach you something that will come in handy later so pay attention. but i can't remember the fish cleaning part. guestbook || notes || archives || profile || photos || d-land |