proof that i was there: the mayday march in seattle. 
the only thing stopping me from enrolling in the massage school i interviewed at today: seeing the hippie-filled, sweat-scented classroom during the tour and thinking "oh fucking christ, perhaps NOT." but that is a snotty, uptight, judgemental way of thinking, and i am far cooler than that, MAN, and my income qualifies me for financial aid (no bills whatsoever until 6months post, or 2 years from now) so... i probably will.
i get a massage table as part of tuition. "you get to choose the color!" the breasty dame doing admissions squealed. she was very nice, but with that patina of artificiality that only public-relations folk can truly cultivate. she produced a variety of swatches. i think i said something stupid like "oh, cool."
i have wanted to do this for years. i am told i am good at it. have i ever had a professional massage? no. but it would be nice.
yeah. i think i probably will.
it keeps the flake wheel rolling.
and i already swaddle my unbrushed-hair self in patchouli (except for today: amber), and i drove to the interview in sweet green, and i would rather be poor and touch skin and make someone's day a bit better, so... yeah. i think i probably will.
*
i received my first shipment of avonex today. it comes in a styrofoam cooler with ice packs. the package itself is very small and inocuous. i am still waiting to be called back about a baseline blood draw (avonex can cause inconvenient things like liver failure) and to contact the Nurse who will Visit Me At Home to Demonstrate Injection Technique. "can't i meet her somewhere else?" i asked the rep on the phone. way to make me feel like a fucking invalid, avonex! i tossed the package in the fridge. dismissively. next to the fake mayonnaise and a few bottles of nail polish. i was feeling fucking fine. i thought "fuck this shit." but then my mouth- the left corner of my mouth- started feeling novocained- it lasted about an hour. now it and i am fine. it is one of the transient "am i crazy? or simply doomed?" perks of the disease. but in that time frame i thought "well, okay- so fucking be it."
now, of course, i feel fine again. i wonder how much is "it" and how much is me... MS gave me a portal that i feed all my most fucked-up weirdness into... and it is all invisible. i probably just look like a floofy-haired girl in an obnoxious orange sweater with a preoccupied mindset.
*
good things of the past week:
generic rice chex dipped in baba ganouj
insane busy-ness at work (the proper term should be 'business', but it isn't, and these are the sort of things that cause my thoughts to drift)
-the slug-bait dog who was in a drug-induced coma for 36 hrs to alleviate her tremors; she walked out of the hospital wagging her tail 3 days later
-the dog who went into arrest; 20 minutes of fruitless cpr whilst waiting for the owners to call back; the necropsy that revealed a tumor on the heart and a chest filled with blood (this is by no means a 'good thing', but it was certainly interesting
-my own guy, tiresias, who has been puking like a banshee since saturday. i have brought him in twice. they can't find anything wrong. he seems fine now. there is dried vomit throughout my house, and he micturated in his carrier in the car on the way home. the blue meanie now reeks of warm-weather piss. hence the sweet greenage, despite the lack of insurance. and oh what a pleasure she is! i fucking love that car.
hearing 'china girl' on various stations every time i turn on the radio
the fact that it is supposed to be almost 90 degrees over the next few days
-thinking as i walked through today's humid 65-degree afternoon: 'if i had balls, they'd be sweaty'
this gloriously FUNCTIONAL computer that i am currently utilizing
my father taking my mom to see cake at the paramount for mother's day. they called me from the show; i was at work. i think i started that annoying tradition: calling people during concerts so that they can be assaulted with a blare of anonymous distortion- and it pleased me to hear, at 2am, hunched over my kitchen counter in my scrubs covered in other animals' hair
really liking death cab for cutie's 'i will possess your heart'. i enjoy this song A LOT. (it makes me feel 15 and wistful, which is never, in retrospect, a bad state)
*
i shall finish with a completely pointless video of the tombs, indulging in a rare romp.
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