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'?
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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."
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i smacked the produce display with my omniprescent bag to get this fucking picture.
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