it's pretty fucking cool.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
gidded
when you're out with someone you don't yet know very well, and it is revealed that you both like drawing, and you go back and forth, taking turns drawing arcane and dischordant things, and when it's your turn to request you say "draw a giant squid opening a can", and they do:
it's pretty fucking cool.
it's pretty fucking cool.
Monday, November 16, 2009
until tomorrow, but that's just another time
i have a weird faith that everything will work out exactly as it's supposed to... regardless. this next year could be magical on many different levels.
that's all i have to say about that (a lie, but it's what i'm telling myself).
*
i have never seen 'annie hall' in its entirety, but it is playing in black and white, silently, on a projector at the place i am currently at. 'ziggy stardust' is alternating with velvet underground on the hi-fi. i am on a curved banquette in the corner, exhibiting poor posture and siphoning internet.
i realized that, rather than relying on Words, i could make an ass of myself and take a picture.
today i skipped most of class to trek to the canadian embassy in downtown seattle. i was sodden and pathetic when i arrived. by the time i'd retrieved my bag from the xray conveyor belt, the woman behind the counter had already given me my paperwork for work/study visas. "you can turn this in at point of entry" she said pleasantly. "you mean, i can just bring them to the border?" i asked. she nodded. for the amount of money (and contigent life-upheaval) this involves, i am rather reticent to ride it out, ha ha, until fucking customs.
i sent a dithering email to s today, outlining my concerns. i miss him. i am trying to be cool about it. obviously, typing that last sentence negates all coolness irrevocably. life is to be led. i mustn't dick around and pine like a fucking schoolgirl.
i went to red cross first aid training this evening, so these are the contents of my bag right now (yes, i took a photo of my bag whilst ensconced in the corner of a bar):
about 12 of us were at the training. we had to go around the table and state our reason for being there. i must admit, it felt oddly nice to say "massage therapy." two guys were there as preparation for a motorcycle trip they're planning for mexico. i sat next to one of them. i got to place a splint on his arm.
the ski patrol guy from stevens pass produced the best quote of the evening; we were discussing the good samaritan laws, wherein one cannot be sued for providing consenting emergency first aid. we had to watch a video of a man carrying boxes and falling down stairs; the reactions in the video varied from gawping goofus-spectators to, of course, the ethnically diverse and professionally concise gallant-red cross aide. "why might someone not get involved?" the instructor asked. "liability" we muttered dutifully. "i have a felony warrant issued for me" the ski patrol guy said. we all laughed until we realized he was fucking serious.
*
they're playing 'new age'.
*
the training was held in the ass-end of rainier beach. a bus came quickly, thankfully. i hate feeling so paranoid now. granted, rainier beach is one of the most unsavory neighborhoods in seattle, but i wouldn't have fucking thought twice about being alone there six months ago. obviously, i should have been a titch more diligent about my surroundings all along; but still, i hate feeling a caul, however minute, of edginess in everything i do. winters are dark here. what the fuck? why is 6pm in november any different from 9pm in june?
the bus didn't even go all the way downtown. it dumped me off at 5th and jackson and i had to walk through the nastiest part of downtown, which would be fine except for the completely desolate streets. i had my mace cocked. it was windy. i thought "wouldn't that be hilarious... i'd be the girl who fucking maces herself."
*
the bus smelled of teriyaki chicken.
*
this is the view from the window behind me as i type this:
it is yet another wet, wet night in seattle.
that's all i have to say about that (a lie, but it's what i'm telling myself).
*
i have never seen 'annie hall' in its entirety, but it is playing in black and white, silently, on a projector at the place i am currently at. 'ziggy stardust' is alternating with velvet underground on the hi-fi. i am on a curved banquette in the corner, exhibiting poor posture and siphoning internet.
i realized that, rather than relying on Words, i could make an ass of myself and take a picture.
today i skipped most of class to trek to the canadian embassy in downtown seattle. i was sodden and pathetic when i arrived. by the time i'd retrieved my bag from the xray conveyor belt, the woman behind the counter had already given me my paperwork for work/study visas. "you can turn this in at point of entry" she said pleasantly. "you mean, i can just bring them to the border?" i asked. she nodded. for the amount of money (and contigent life-upheaval) this involves, i am rather reticent to ride it out, ha ha, until fucking customs.
i sent a dithering email to s today, outlining my concerns. i miss him. i am trying to be cool about it. obviously, typing that last sentence negates all coolness irrevocably. life is to be led. i mustn't dick around and pine like a fucking schoolgirl.
i went to red cross first aid training this evening, so these are the contents of my bag right now (yes, i took a photo of my bag whilst ensconced in the corner of a bar):
about 12 of us were at the training. we had to go around the table and state our reason for being there. i must admit, it felt oddly nice to say "massage therapy." two guys were there as preparation for a motorcycle trip they're planning for mexico. i sat next to one of them. i got to place a splint on his arm.
the ski patrol guy from stevens pass produced the best quote of the evening; we were discussing the good samaritan laws, wherein one cannot be sued for providing consenting emergency first aid. we had to watch a video of a man carrying boxes and falling down stairs; the reactions in the video varied from gawping goofus-spectators to, of course, the ethnically diverse and professionally concise gallant-red cross aide. "why might someone not get involved?" the instructor asked. "liability" we muttered dutifully. "i have a felony warrant issued for me" the ski patrol guy said. we all laughed until we realized he was fucking serious.
*
they're playing 'new age'.
*
the training was held in the ass-end of rainier beach. a bus came quickly, thankfully. i hate feeling so paranoid now. granted, rainier beach is one of the most unsavory neighborhoods in seattle, but i wouldn't have fucking thought twice about being alone there six months ago. obviously, i should have been a titch more diligent about my surroundings all along; but still, i hate feeling a caul, however minute, of edginess in everything i do. winters are dark here. what the fuck? why is 6pm in november any different from 9pm in june?
the bus didn't even go all the way downtown. it dumped me off at 5th and jackson and i had to walk through the nastiest part of downtown, which would be fine except for the completely desolate streets. i had my mace cocked. it was windy. i thought "wouldn't that be hilarious... i'd be the girl who fucking maces herself."
*
the bus smelled of teriyaki chicken.
*
this is the view from the window behind me as i type this:
it is yet another wet, wet night in seattle.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
heart of the sunrise
i woke at 5am, before the paper arrived, and waited two hours for the first sunny day in a month to rear its fickle head.
tiresias and entropy spent the morning vomiting. foul, vile stuff. i fear what i'll come home to. "please do not shit or puke on my bed!" i ordered them before i left. i am not the most sympathetic of owners.
*ye olde bee in bonnet, part LXII*
last night i applied to the summer french intensive at mcgill university in montreal. i looked into that school in 2001, when i was living with j and needing a flagrant life-change (i ended up going to europe by myself, then moving to seattle, instead). i paid the $80 app fee, thinking "yes, this seems rather spontaneous, but i've actually been fermenting this idea for the last decade... and it's *only* $80 should i change my mind." i have been freaking out, slightly, ever since... i have a pretty lovely life here; how audacious of me to fuck with it! what about the beasts? my US-funded, hellaciously-expensive-otherwise meds? the friends i've made here? my two fucking professional licenses?...
and then i think about it: answering the question of what i'll be doing in a year. and i think of replying, "why, i'll be doing something completely different, something i've always wanted to do," and i smile like a fucking fool. i am excited. i am giddy. i am exhilerated and scared shitless and feel like i'm sixteen. but it's time for a change. my reaction tells me it'll probably be okay.
tonight i went on the quebec skilled workers page. i qualify... meaning i may be able to legally work there. i also qualify for general quebec immigration (their province is in its own class, with stricter requirements).
what the fuck? if it doesn't happen, i'll be doing something almost as novel: practicing massage in seattle. ain't nothing wrong with that.
there are many, many months before any of this happens. i just like having the first steps taken, finally.
tiresias and entropy spent the morning vomiting. foul, vile stuff. i fear what i'll come home to. "please do not shit or puke on my bed!" i ordered them before i left. i am not the most sympathetic of owners.
*ye olde bee in bonnet, part LXII*
last night i applied to the summer french intensive at mcgill university in montreal. i looked into that school in 2001, when i was living with j and needing a flagrant life-change (i ended up going to europe by myself, then moving to seattle, instead). i paid the $80 app fee, thinking "yes, this seems rather spontaneous, but i've actually been fermenting this idea for the last decade... and it's *only* $80 should i change my mind." i have been freaking out, slightly, ever since... i have a pretty lovely life here; how audacious of me to fuck with it! what about the beasts? my US-funded, hellaciously-expensive-otherwise meds? the friends i've made here? my two fucking professional licenses?...
and then i think about it: answering the question of what i'll be doing in a year. and i think of replying, "why, i'll be doing something completely different, something i've always wanted to do," and i smile like a fucking fool. i am excited. i am giddy. i am exhilerated and scared shitless and feel like i'm sixteen. but it's time for a change. my reaction tells me it'll probably be okay.
tonight i went on the quebec skilled workers page. i qualify... meaning i may be able to legally work there. i also qualify for general quebec immigration (their province is in its own class, with stricter requirements).
what the fuck? if it doesn't happen, i'll be doing something almost as novel: practicing massage in seattle. ain't nothing wrong with that.
there are many, many months before any of this happens. i just like having the first steps taken, finally.
Friday, November 06, 2009
the remaining 12 hours
i always feel like a fucking nerd for going out by myself and doing my typical brynnthings on friday nights. i feel like i should wear a sign that says "i work tomorrow... friday's just another night." i never feel uncool about being alone on, say, a tuesday.
i am at oddfellows, my business plan almost complete. all i have left to do is list my personal, professional, and financial goals for 2011 and 2016. i have already done 2010... the list included "reacquaint myself with my stove, bed, and pencils." anything further out than a year becomes an amorphous, slightly intimidating mess, one i cannot relate to. who knows? i could be incapacitated in a year. i could be knocked up. i could be ravenously in love and moving to minsk. i refuse to plan anything. is it a coincidence that, in the meantime, very little gets done?
i take that back. i have been a motivated motherfucker of late. yes, my new scrubs arrived at work and i blurted "yay! i don't have to do laundry for another week!"... but all my plants are hydrated, the litter box is clean, the controlled drug audit at work has been done, and i finished "eighty-sixed", the sunday crossword, three mix tapes, and all but the last 30 pages of "methland".
i received a reply from the international spay and neuter project today. i am on their contact list now. you must pay your own travel expenses, but they'll drop you in, say, jamaica (the foundation is based there but they travel globally), and you sterilize piles of local beasts. i have wanted to do this for years. all it took was an email. life can be so fucking easy.
i don't know how widespread the story is, but an officer was blatantly gunned down this weekend in leschi (about 5 miles from my house). his trainee (she'd only been on the job a month) ducked, getting grazed across her back; he died instantly. there has been a collossal hullaballoo since- legitimately. i like cops. when they fuck with me, i usually deserve it. and nobody ever deserves to be killed... unless they're hurting a kid, or an animal, or anything innocent... and then they are a fucking antithesis to society and deserve to be removed from the gene pool in the most concise way possible.
the funeral was held at key arena. i was walking down there (in the sunshine! see post from earlier. the clime has since returned to the icy stab-rain, colder than balls) to the post office; i had forgotten about the funeral until a man jaywalking said, loudly, "what a fucking lot of cop cars." there were hundreds. there were squad cars from portland, missoula, and boise. there were parking authority carts. there was an ambulance. there was a vintage 1968 seattle pontiac police cruiser. and atop the building neighboring the key arena, there was this:
i have already read the snarky blogosphere (i did not use that word) comments about this... "why the fuck did they need snipers?" and i sort of agree.
as i walked by this afternoon, past the entire region's law enforcement gathered within one building, i couldn't help but think: this would be a great time to commit a crime.
i immediately felt like an asshole.
the cop was young, 39, with two kids and a wife. he was just sitting in his cruiser and got fucking murdered.
i felt lucky to be able to see the bombastic clouds as i continued walking downtown. i feel lucky for a hell of a lot of things. i appreciate. tremendously. sometimes i must remind myself.
i am at oddfellows, my business plan almost complete. all i have left to do is list my personal, professional, and financial goals for 2011 and 2016. i have already done 2010... the list included "reacquaint myself with my stove, bed, and pencils." anything further out than a year becomes an amorphous, slightly intimidating mess, one i cannot relate to. who knows? i could be incapacitated in a year. i could be knocked up. i could be ravenously in love and moving to minsk. i refuse to plan anything. is it a coincidence that, in the meantime, very little gets done?
i take that back. i have been a motivated motherfucker of late. yes, my new scrubs arrived at work and i blurted "yay! i don't have to do laundry for another week!"... but all my plants are hydrated, the litter box is clean, the controlled drug audit at work has been done, and i finished "eighty-sixed", the sunday crossword, three mix tapes, and all but the last 30 pages of "methland".
i received a reply from the international spay and neuter project today. i am on their contact list now. you must pay your own travel expenses, but they'll drop you in, say, jamaica (the foundation is based there but they travel globally), and you sterilize piles of local beasts. i have wanted to do this for years. all it took was an email. life can be so fucking easy.
i don't know how widespread the story is, but an officer was blatantly gunned down this weekend in leschi (about 5 miles from my house). his trainee (she'd only been on the job a month) ducked, getting grazed across her back; he died instantly. there has been a collossal hullaballoo since- legitimately. i like cops. when they fuck with me, i usually deserve it. and nobody ever deserves to be killed... unless they're hurting a kid, or an animal, or anything innocent... and then they are a fucking antithesis to society and deserve to be removed from the gene pool in the most concise way possible.
the funeral was held at key arena. i was walking down there (in the sunshine! see post from earlier. the clime has since returned to the icy stab-rain, colder than balls) to the post office; i had forgotten about the funeral until a man jaywalking said, loudly, "what a fucking lot of cop cars." there were hundreds. there were squad cars from portland, missoula, and boise. there were parking authority carts. there was an ambulance. there was a vintage 1968 seattle pontiac police cruiser. and atop the building neighboring the key arena, there was this:
i have already read the snarky blogosphere (i did not use that word) comments about this... "why the fuck did they need snipers?" and i sort of agree.
as i walked by this afternoon, past the entire region's law enforcement gathered within one building, i couldn't help but think: this would be a great time to commit a crime.
i immediately felt like an asshole.
the cop was young, 39, with two kids and a wife. he was just sitting in his cruiser and got fucking murdered.
i felt lucky to be able to see the bombastic clouds as i continued walking downtown. i feel lucky for a hell of a lot of things. i appreciate. tremendously. sometimes i must remind myself.
Wednesday, November 04, 2009
avoid a void
narcissism (or as i prefer to coin it, 'self-documentation') does not abate at the ER door. while i was waiting for the doctor to return with my discharge papers after my anaphylactic ballyhoo a few weeks ago, i busied myself with the camera.
i didn't feel exhausted.
the last few weeks have been frenetic. the last year has been frenetic. i sat down this evening and wrote out my business plan. it makes sense. radiohead played. leaves slinked across the cobblestone street. part of my plan was "investigate other places to live" but days like today make me not want to leave.
*
new zealand was suggested to me. p lived there during the winters when he worked in antarctica. "you'd love it" he said. new zealand has no massage regulation. "i would just sit around and flush the toilet" i blurted out. he laughed. sadly, i was halfway serious.
the idea of new zealand, which i know fucking nothing about (other than that the people i've met from new zealand are consistently hilarious and debaucherous) has left a burr in my brain.
*
halloween weekend was slower'n shit. i forget what this dog was in for. it was something nonserious and nondescript. his owner bragged about his other costume, "a karate chihuahua!" with a white outfit, black belt, and red headband, that he would be wearing to a party that evening. the doctor came back from seeing her. "that woman's insane" she hissed, albeit affectionately.
there was copious candy at work and nothing to do. we sat around being fucking hyper and talking about sex. professionalism is purely subjective.
*
d got his massage license last week. i dragged him with me to see mum in celebration. i saw them a few weeks after i first alit in seattle in 2002- they played at i-spy, a clausterphobic club on 5th ave that closed soon after. it was so hot in there that i had to stand in the alley, skin visibly steaming, lest i pass out. they were amazing then. this time, at the showbox (all-ages, maybe half full) they were every bit as lovely and ethereal, but we were ensconsed by the bar, drinking dilute rip-offs.
mum would be brilliant massage music.
*
i have always wanted to go to iceland. from seattle, it is cheaper to fly to iceland than alaska.
*
REFERENDUM 71 PASSED! HOLY FUCKING SHIT! i am incredibly happy- and incredibly impressed. http://vote.wa.gov/Elections/WEI/ResultsByCounty.aspx?ElectionID=32&RaceID=102369&CountyCode=+&JurisdictionTypeID=-2&RaceTypeCode=M&ViewMode=Results shows the results county-by-blessed-county... a sobering reality. i am glad i live on the correct side of the state.
i love catching this city at its flattest and most wrist-slitting. i find it beautiful. daylight savings has shifted darkness to 5pm. what was i doing at 5pm today? i had the fingers of my left hand 2 inches deep under someone's costal arch, in a brick-walled room with round paper lanterns. so, yes, life is good.
i didn't feel exhausted.
the last few weeks have been frenetic. the last year has been frenetic. i sat down this evening and wrote out my business plan. it makes sense. radiohead played. leaves slinked across the cobblestone street. part of my plan was "investigate other places to live" but days like today make me not want to leave.
*
new zealand was suggested to me. p lived there during the winters when he worked in antarctica. "you'd love it" he said. new zealand has no massage regulation. "i would just sit around and flush the toilet" i blurted out. he laughed. sadly, i was halfway serious.
the idea of new zealand, which i know fucking nothing about (other than that the people i've met from new zealand are consistently hilarious and debaucherous) has left a burr in my brain.
*
halloween weekend was slower'n shit. i forget what this dog was in for. it was something nonserious and nondescript. his owner bragged about his other costume, "a karate chihuahua!" with a white outfit, black belt, and red headband, that he would be wearing to a party that evening. the doctor came back from seeing her. "that woman's insane" she hissed, albeit affectionately.
there was copious candy at work and nothing to do. we sat around being fucking hyper and talking about sex. professionalism is purely subjective.
*
d got his massage license last week. i dragged him with me to see mum in celebration. i saw them a few weeks after i first alit in seattle in 2002- they played at i-spy, a clausterphobic club on 5th ave that closed soon after. it was so hot in there that i had to stand in the alley, skin visibly steaming, lest i pass out. they were amazing then. this time, at the showbox (all-ages, maybe half full) they were every bit as lovely and ethereal, but we were ensconsed by the bar, drinking dilute rip-offs.
mum would be brilliant massage music.
*
i have always wanted to go to iceland. from seattle, it is cheaper to fly to iceland than alaska.
*
REFERENDUM 71 PASSED! HOLY FUCKING SHIT! i am incredibly happy- and incredibly impressed. http://vote.wa.gov/Elections/WEI/ResultsByCounty.aspx?ElectionID=32&RaceID=102369&CountyCode=+&JurisdictionTypeID=-2&RaceTypeCode=M&ViewMode=Results shows the results county-by-blessed-county... a sobering reality. i am glad i live on the correct side of the state.
i love catching this city at its flattest and most wrist-slitting. i find it beautiful. daylight savings has shifted darkness to 5pm. what was i doing at 5pm today? i had the fingers of my left hand 2 inches deep under someone's costal arch, in a brick-walled room with round paper lanterns. so, yes, life is good.
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