pardon me sir, furthest from my mind

it's been a draining month. i am relieved to have a night to myself.
on a side note, i scored 20 on the autism quotient... normal adults are about 16, and one is considered 'autistic' after 28. perhaps i am a highly-functioning asperger's? or perhaps i am simply self-contained to a fault.
it's nearly impossible for me to ask people for help. so... i rarely do. the world provides, after all. a shitty day will always get better. moods evolve. situations remedy themselves whether i fret about them or not. vive l'indifference!
*
my grandmother finally died. the service was yesterday. it was held at the national cemetery in the fucking hinterlands outside of auburn. it was freezing cold and pouring rain and i drove the entire way there and back UNABLE TO SEE out of my fogged, wiperless windows. my radio wasn't audible over the roar of the engine so i had my headphones in... hunched over the steering wheel in a hypothermic terror, hoping i don't die and cursing my laziness about getting the fucking wipers fixed. i snivel about how much it'll cost but i spent the same amount, if not a bit more, on the ticket to iceland. my priorities are warped. i have been fucking lucky that i haven't yet killed anything, anyone, or myself.
i hate the south sound, anyhow. i get farther than renton and uneasiness sets in. i spent the most miserable times of my life there. i leave king county and it's as though someone's squashing my trachea.
the service was outside, in 46 degree rain. attending: my mother; my other grandmother; my uncle bill and his bitch wife who, as usual, refused to acknowledge me or anyone else there (i don't call people bitches, and really mean it, very often, but she's a wholly unpleasant human being); my uncle karl; and my aunt liz. i was the only grandchild present. we sat under a gazebo-thing as the rain fell. bill said some nice things about my grandmother. a soldier presented karl with a folded american flag. and then we watched oma's ashes join my grandfather's in his veteran's cubby.

her name will be added in the next few weeks.

my mother commented on the stately hearse that transported oma's 9" square box of ashes from the funeral home in tacoma. "they came all this way with a box" she sighed. "oh, it cost plenty."
i don't know how i ended up being in the fucking middle of this picture- the memorial crasher!- or how it takes seeing a photograph to realize how fucking giant the rest of the haugs are. granted, my mother and liz were in heels. my mother looks surly.

i have been composing memories of my parents in my head for, shit, years- intending to write them down before i CAN'T. so on monday, while it was stormy and thuddingly slow at the massage job, i did. i forgot to give the cards to my mother until we were both on the freeway. i called her on my phone and told her to pull over. i gave her the cards on the side of hwy 18 as semi trucks roared by and rain sprayed. i hugged her and told her i loved her. and i merged back onto the freeway and- immediately began to worry. what if she was unable to merge? why did i endanger her life? what if my insisting she pulled over resulted in her and my grandmother, who was riding with her, getting killed? i couldn't see them through my useless back window. i drove back to seattle essentially having a panic attack. this sounds so fucking stupid now. my brain was spiralling, thinking of every awful thing i've ever done, how selfish i fucking am to HAVE to give those to her RIGHT THEN. the weather was absolutely awful- the sky was dusky dark at 3pm and i couldn't see the seattle skyline even when i was driving right past it. i sent her a text- "let me know when you get home" and didn't hear anything until several hours after i arrived at work that night.
*
everything, of course, was fine.
she's waiting to read the cards until she and my father are in las vegas, where they'll be this weekend, tra-la, because life goes on and my parents are the kinds of people who decide to go to las vegas for a weekend, and i don't need to give myself a fucking ulcer, ever, and everything always works out- even in the rare moments when, on first impression, it doesn't.
*
my fear scared me. it was so fucking automatic to imagine everything in my life disintegrating around me. i have felt very lonely lately. there are people around and friends i can emotionally vomit on, but there's still something missing. i feel like a drug addict who can't get the drug i'm addicted to so i settle for a substitute- like smoking a vile menthol when i really want a camel. or methadone instead of heroin. or kissing instead of sex.
this is the time of my 'swing' when, if i hadn't already, i would book a trip or get a fucking tattoo, because i feel like i need to do something dramatic to distract me from my own mind.
*
the past week:
-insane massage from o. he does a lot of structural work- his is not a relaxing massage. he cranked on my radius-ulna until i felt nauseous. afterwards i was very jittery- my hands were shaking like i'd overdosed on caffeine. "you're letting go of a lot of negative energy" c said. "your body's been holding onto a lot." i wince at the industry-isms but it was probably true.
-i picked up a shift there today and saw 5 clients in 5 hours. i tried a new aromatherapy combination: orange and fennel. it was groovy as hell until i spilled spearmint oil and caused everyone there to develop a headache.
-dying animals. owners who don't want to let go. drain-circling. i love my coworkers. i work with no one stupid enough to say "oh come on, guys! maybe he can make it!" everyone there is realistic and compassionate and disgusted with owners who prove they are neither by putting their pets through fucking hell.
-bleu cheese stuffed dates, wrapped in pancetta and drizzled with a balsamic reduction. "it's like having sex with christmas!" i blurted.
-lavender.
-feeling exhausted and bedraggled and still having the checkout guy look at me and say "oh, HI... how are you?"
-a care package of skulls, chicken feet, apidocere, a crime-watch newspaper, and a pulp magazine.
-almond-stuffed green olives as part of a balanced breakfast.
last week we made meze. among other things. i've lived at my lair for over four years and it was the first time i'd had more than one person over at a time. i felt like a fucking puppy. it was exciting.

it's nice when everyone leaves, too. that's the borderline-asperger's talking, ha ha.

i speak jive

here's some quintessential seattle for ya:

it's been fucking gorgeous: foggy mornings, sunny days, cold nights.

the orionid meteor shower is peaking this thursday... when the moon is full. even in the hinterlands, it's unlikely to be visible. tis a pity.
yet another wood spider!

life has been good- tenser than the months prior, but it's recalibrated nicely. my grandmother is still alive. she's back at her assisted-living home with hospice care and her kids taking turns being with her. as of yesterday my mother texted me "she's fading. maybe a day or 2." i am deeply impressed that she's hung on this long- she's a tough bird. my grandmother AND my mother, really. there will be no service, per oma's wishes. at this point i'm just waiting for the news. it will be a relief to everyone.
i feel honored for having had the opportunity to see someone and know it was for the last time. there would have been no point to visit her anytime after i did- she wouldn't have recognized me and it would have been even more depressing. i will always remember the way she smiled and gripped my hand. i am fucking grateful for that.
i have tried not to think about it too much. i don't want to feel guilty or sad or like i'm somehow fucking up how one is supposed to grieve. is it wrong to not feel 'grief'?
*
the annual puget sound mycological society exposition! mushrooms phosphoresce under black light!

the sign announcing the exhibit. an old guy loitering nearby made jokes about psilocybin and missing letters.

these are marvellously delicate- dare i refer to fungus as sensual?

these were just lurid and made me happy.


my best keith moon. sigh. it was inadvertant.

the past week:
-ridiculous shit-faced 'meal' (small plates overwhelmed with far too many pours of paired alcohol) at elemental. "the last thing i remember was the bison" i mumbled the next morning. fucking mortifying. s claims that everyone else present was as fucked-up as i. the food, what i can recall, was delicious.
-running anesthesia for a dog that ate two big fucking rocks.
-i was given a 5-star review on yelp for a chair massage! i hate, HATE chair massage, but i can fake it well. i assume it was me... she referred to me in the review as "bree." fuck, most people do. i've been at bbh for a year, in various capacities, and the volunteer coordinator still calls me 'bree.' i don't even correct him. what's the fucking point?
that made up for being screamed at by a psychotic man over the phone at the ER, which i still feel horrible about even though i did nothing wrong. it just serves to remind me of the gaping CONTRASTS between my jobs.
-walking around with a goddamn happy smirk on my face. it's easy. i am happy. i think about it and smile even more. that is all i'm going to extrapolate upon.
-good tips. really good tips.
-i was driving home last night and a (possibly indigent) man crossed in front of me at the light. he turned and dramatically blew me a kiss. i didn't even think about it- i grinned widely and placed my hands over my heart. he smiled, i smiled, and the light turned green. i drove off thinking "i love the fucking world."
-tapas at ocho, OH MY GOD. bitter chocolate melted on olive oil-toasted bread and drizzled with truffle oil. pork cheeks with raisins and fava beans. green beans and mushrooms. fried artichoke with sardines. there are so many good restaurants in seattle.
-i decided today: okay, i've been stressed about money. i'm essentially making the same, if not a bit more, but i'm working 10 hours a week more and i'm living... lavishly. so i decided that the ER pays the bills. massage pays the lifestyle. it works! i refuse to feel bad about anything!
-i'm wearing a scarf that i knitted with my own hands. in fact, it's the purple scarf i knitted in alaska- i started it on the plane ride there and finished it on the plane ride back.
-"she said she didn't swallow." "and you believe that?" "well, yeah, 'cause she's grossed out by semen."
*
i smacked the produce display with my omniprescent bag to get this fucking picture.

a different sort of lovely

first, the blithe shit.

dungen on sunday. they were great. this picture is horribly framed.

the bathroom at neumo's.

i got the call while i was at work monday: my grandmother was found on the floor of her room at the assisted-living facility, possibly having had a stroke and unable to swallow. she was at tacoma general all week, failing multiple swallow tests, on IV fluids and nasal oxygen. there was confusion with her resuscitative orders- two said "no life-prolonging measures", but the one signed in february 2010 indicated otherwise. she's 94 and senile, so her kids- my mother and her three asshole siblings- had to conference with the hospital to determine if she was to receive a feeding tube or not. thankfully the concensus was no. today she was transferred from the hospital to the same seedy hospice facility where my grandfather, her husband, died three years ago. she will be receiving no food and no fluids- but morphine as indicated.
i saw her on tuesday. she recognized me and gripped my hand. she looked fucking awful. her mouth was gaping open and her eyes kept rolling back in her head. her tongue was turning grey and her lips were cracking. i applied lip balm on her. what do you do when you know this is your last time seeing someone? someone you remember so much more vibrantly? i told her i loved her. i said "i've known you my entire life, and i can't say that about many people. that's pretty special." she smiled at that. i think she's more aware of the situation than she lets on. she's ready to go. she's been ready to go for years. what does she have to live for? her body has failed her. she is physically and mentally unable to glean pleasure from the world.
that's the part that fucking breaks my heart. i am relieved for her death, for her peace. but the fucking anguish, or the icky circling-the-drain shit that she's going to be enduring until she dies- that's not fucking fair, or humane, or anything she deserves. that makes me feel fucking sick when i think about it.
and seeing my mom have to ask her mother the question of "do you want us to do a feeding tube, or...?" and watching her cry- i've seen my mother cry maybe 10 times in my entire life. i inherited my snively nature from my father, not her. it makes when she does emote much more poignant.
i looked up how long it takes someone to die after food and fluids are discontinued. my grandmother has not eaten since sunday and she's now been off IV fluids for about 16 hours. i hope she's oblivious. s said that she could very well be having revelations and totally blissful, or something- perhaps enjoying the zenlike calm that comes with knowing you're dying. thinking of it that way makes me feel better. my grandmother is the sort of personality that would find the cerebral, detached beauty of death. that's one of the coolest things about her.
but, you know, fuck. mortality sucks. i wish her last few days didn't have to be spent the way they will be.
this is my grandmother when she's about my age. i love this photograph. i obviously didn't know her then- i don't think my mother was even alive yet, for that matter- but it's the way i want to remember her.

anyway.
when i found out i already had plans to see a show with k. i felt slightly guilty for going but my car was still in the shop, it was late at night, and life goes on. i'm glad i went. the sword is metal from austin. they fucking rocked.

the crowd was fantastic- not your typical sullen immobile shit that seattle has a deservedly bad reputation for.

a nifty faucet:

a nifty web:

yesterday was gorgeous. s and i went to alki. i always forget that i live in such proximity to several very awesome beaches. i was rather inebriated and trying to capture the light as it hits underwater. most photos bounce off the surface. i like the seaweed in this.

more kelp!
i love the word "kelp."

things are poignant. everything seems especially outlined. sunlight through skylights. shrimp. watching someone prepare a fontina-arugula crepe. cold wind and a weirdly orange overcast sky. cats frantic to see me. filing charts. having to focus on the moment. tots that contain a week's worth of sodium. i am finally reading 'a confederacy of dunces.' bamboo standing 20' tall against a weathered brick wall. skin. sleeping better when i'm not alone.
*
yesterday i saw one bright yellow tree against a street's worth of still-green. the sky was luridly blue behind it. midday on a wednesday, nowhere immediate to be, calm and appreciative. everyone deserves to have moments like that.

tangles are good too.