silly, silly trollop

i am reluctant to write about people on an emotional level, since it always seems to BACKFIRE, leaving me feeling mortified and grossed out by the whole thing, but! i went out with someone a few days ago, and it was a fucking blast. neither of us could figure out where to go. we ended up at beth's cafe. "it's a total dive" i warned him. the coffee was horrible and our waitress smelled of berry lip gloss. we talked for about two hours. the two big points against me that i was nervous about disclosing: i am mid-divorce and i smoke. he was divorced last summer and smokes too. he seemed visibly relieved as well. i am going into this, and everything, with a friend mindset. i am a much better human when i'm a friend and not some GIRLFRIEND with EXPECTATIONS. thus i have spent the weekend with a Friend Mindset, despite finding myself grinning stupidly, feeling zesty and female, knowing that i am at risk of being undeservedly googly-eyed over the first guy in a while to be repectful and sarcastic and laugh at what i say.
fucking women. i mean, really.
today was absolutely beauteous, 70's and cloudless. i found reasons to escape the windowless confines of work for multiple smoke breaks. returning indoors was like walking into a cave. syringe-fed 10-day-old kittens. yesterday their eyes weren't open; today they were. it is an odd feeling to be one of the first things another living thing will see. or one of the last, which happens overly often as well. i have 3 more scheduled shifts at OPE. spring fever is assaulting my work ethic in a bad way. all i want to do is not have anywhere to be.
pink has been declared a total loss. the insurance company appraised it at more than what i paid 2 years ago, ha ha. i will be keeping and fixing her. it is very annoying to have the comparably boatlike rental car in my neighborhood, bypassing all the parking spots that pink would easily fit into. it is even more annoying to be car-dependent for the sake of my job(s).
i was walking home tonight (parked several blocks away, under fragrant trees dropping petals) and passed a lit basement window. the glass was encircled with red xmas lights. visible were several people in supine embraces on sofas. it was like a modern-day opium den. just a glance. i continued walking, feeling that flaky happy 'what an intricate yet totally accessible world' sensation. the air was soft and sexy. the hallways of my building smelled of marinara. the pendulum is swinging upwards.

the weekend at the olympia ER was, dare i say, bittersweet (i am loath to use that term, hateful as it is). blair found out i was leaving. we both cried. dave and carrie, the owners, came by to talk to me; carrie cried too. i will never have another job like this. part of me hopes tacoma turns out horribly so i can crawl back.
i left work and drove home feeling abstractly happy about life. singing along. the horrid easter traffic did not perturb me. i was stopped behind a car on the interstate, almost directly across from the stadiums in seattle, when i noticed the car behind me not slowing down. i got fucking rear-ended. badly. we drove to the side of the freeway. the girl was no more than 18, crying; her passenger boyfriend still had braces. it was her mother's car- macerated, leaking radiator fluid on the pavement. li'l pink appeared utterly unscathed. my neck hurt, but otherwise i was smugly undaunted. i have been in countless accidents and THIS IS THE FIRST ONE THAT WASN'T MY FAULT! i got her insurance information and started to drive off. 50 feet down the road my car began whistling, then shuddered, then died. the cops came, she got cited, her parents showed up, i ended up paying $175 for a tow. the tow driver was a very chatty guy, fresh from a divorce, new to town from wenatchee. apparently hondas are the most frequently stolen cars and they impound DWI more than accidents. he gave me a ride home after i dropped my innocent car at an auto shop. today: turns out that the entire undercarriage was pushed forward. the exhaust pipe is kinked, the muffler's askew, they had to pull some debris out of the tailpipe. she is running but not exactly driveable. the other driver's insurance claims office had a fucking gas leak and the facility was shut down. and my neck still hurts. thus i am typing this rather dull solliloquy instead of being at OPE for my overnight shift.
i do not like being privy to crap that was not my fucking doing, but it is oddly easier to deal with at the same time. i wonder why.
good things about today:
-obnoxiously bright sun. it is impossible to stare into the sun and not appear constipated and enraged.
-$3 nektar lp at jive time as two guys discussed molly hatchet
-israeli cookbook at the fremont library
-the dog on the bus who slithered under the seats for everyone to pet. her immediately altered the mood from a bunch of surly strangers to people bending over and cooing.
-free sample of marc jacobs 'grass' perfume for the asking!
-'let's pretend we don't exist/let's pretend we're in antarctica'- this is a very appealing song! it sounds like it's accompanying a casio demo.
-sitting in my kitchen, feet on the table, reading goddamn people magazine and drinking berry creme dr pepper through a straw, knowing that no matter what horrors befall my car and any other aspect of my world, at that moment i am not having to work the overnight shift.
(berry creme dr pepper, on initial tasting, tastes rather nasty. but i am a whore for exciting new sugarless liquids!)

!!!!

according to a (very biased!) online survey, i am a histrionic narcissist! oh my god! i know, i couldn't believe it either!

i'm not a crazy miserly cat person, i'm minimalistic

well, fuck me! i've been typing for the last 15 minutes and ffftt! it vanishes! was it that important? oh, probably not.
suffice it to say: i am in a very good mood. class was fun. it is making a lot of sense thus far, even if i cannot properly pronounce anything. drove to monroe earlier because i could. monroe is east of everett: strip mall hell, surrounded by bucolic farmland, bright green fields seeming artificial against the grey wet weather. later i ended up in my unofficial journal-writin' spot, on the water in west seattle. rain was pelting the roof of the car. downtown loomed across the bay. i had parked in front of a bush bearing copious orange blooms. it made for a very attractive scene. i thought of taking a picture but forgot. (sorry, my new york friend, i haven't figured out how to transfer photos from my phone to this.) everything in general is incredibly comely of late. the other night i was walking around my neighborhood sometime after midnight, feeling decadently sorry for myself. the streets were empty. i was passing mansions with darkened windows, cars carefully parked, gutters filled with blown blossoms. and i realized that there was nowhere else i'd rather be. red 'bush' stickers beneath the stop signs. ornate gables on victorian eaves. old-growth trees. the sound of my own steps. having nowhere to be, no one wondering or even aware what i'm doing. i suppose that this can be a lonesome sentiment if considered at the wrong time. i saw (and see) it as very fucking freeing. just like that, my sour mindset became very humorous, silly, personal. it is nice when i can kick my own ass a bit.
fucking freeing fucking freeing fucking freeing... go on, try it.
i read ruth reichl's 'garlic and sapphires'- reccommended. she was talking about blood thickening one elaborate meat sauce and i was salivating. and i'm a crunchy fucking vegetarian.
i own nary a pot now. MRE curries are actually quite tasty at room temperature. matzo soup is good at room temperature also.
it is all part of my plan to regress to a mental/physical dorm-room Zen. it is a pleasant feeling.

'the world will spin beside itself and suck you in'

visited my grandmother and cousin today. upon entering the house, they each grabbed a piece of my hair and pulled. "boing!" said my grandmother. i smiled politely. fresh from her catholic school experience with relatives in mexico, my cousin can fluently rattle off the rosary in spanish. i attempted to write everyone's names in arabic. my mother came by and we discussed toilets around the world. i drank too much coffee and got jittery. left the house around 5, feeling better the farther north i drove. ended up watching sparks erupt heavenward from bonfires along the beaches at golden gardens from the windfree enclave of my vehicle, writing scabrous dreck in my journal that is too venomous and insecure to publish here. it always feels so much better afterwards. i'm actually rather zingy now, though the headache has returned.
my grandmother gave me two of her paintings, 30-40 years old, apologizing all the while about how terrible they are. they are of leafless, gnarled trees- haunted-house trees. one is in lavender tones, one is yellow and brown. i love them. this is the stuff that is important. her side of the family is very interesting. my great-great-great-grandfather, james begg, apparently "washed up on the shores of scotland" with amnesia. he was a beggar, eventually ingratiating himself into the business world. he and his wife, anna sidey, immigrated from scotland to canada in 1823. his son, john begg, was born in ontario. he and his wife, margaret marie smyllie, moved to tennessee, where my great-grandmother was born. sarah jane begg married fred littlejohn. apparently someone along the line was a slaveowner.
"i have slaveowners on one side of the family and a nazi on the other?" i said. (my mom's father was a nazi youth in germany.) "and jews too!" my grandmother added cheerily.
i really wish i'd felt better during the visit. i have a pretty cool family. i don't show my appreciation enough.
i have a tendency to hold close that which is destructive and eschew/take for granted that which is ultimately pure and beneficial. this has always been a problem. i am either masochistic or just plain stupid; happily, i am also at the point where i shrug at the ramifications, rather than debase myself for bad choices. prendre est vivre, baby.

novelty sought

i got hired full-time at the tacoma ER. i am happy. just wanted to share.

lips part, pupils dilate, clock strikes midnight

just finished my 1st arabic class. i have had 3.5hrs of sleep. the tired dilerium led to inappropriate giggling as we attempted to form sounds that western mouths have no business uttering. the teacher is a smiley sort, very likeable. halfway through he excused himself, prayer rug rolled up under his arm. we learned the first 19 letters of the alphabet and 'i am...' the only other female in the class seems like a bit of a know-it-all, cardigan tightly buttoned. the other guys were all as self-consciously laughing as i was. that made me feel a bit less immature.
the weather was sunny, brilliant, warm. the leaves are budding. springtime makes me want to be in love. i was walking through an industrial area today, adjacent to some train tracks; a mallard duck was being casually followed by a female. they looked very out of their element. after the class i waited for the bus in the suddenly cold wind, nighttime sky, schoolbooks resting on my knees, chin in hands, suddenly feeling rather melancholy. i used to live a block from where the bus stop is. i thought about how my life has completely changed but yet hasn't really altered at all... throughout the maelstrom, i still think the same silly thoughts, still walk the same way, still employ the same mannerisms. there is actually great comfort in that. it is fundamental to have some sort of continuity, and if you are your own continuity, so much the better. i got on the bus and noticed someone had stuck a flower in the emergency handle. that was the fucking coolest thing i could have seen at that moment. i took a picture.
on the second bus i was sitting next to a man who noticed my books and started talking to me about the middle east. he had travelled through israel and egypt ~15yrs ago as part of a theater group. when he got off the bus he shook my hand.
the sky is cloudless tonight. the downtown buildings are positively glowing. the entire world seems like a well-crafted set piece right now. i feel liquid. you know that moment of absolute clarity before collapsing in sleep? when all the answers come, when all the plans you've ever fancied are tangible? that flicker of energy, seductiveness, compassion? and how all that enlightenment vanishes the instant you close your eyes? why do i usually feel the most omnipotent and sexual when i am too exhausted to do anything about it?