the grafitti ranges from the politely girly and earnest...
to the crudely peurile...
to my personal favorite.
ah, women.
*
i met my parents in tacoma tonight. i had not seen them in months- i believe i visited my mother in june, and it had been months before that i'd seen my father. we met at the spar. oddly, it was at the spar that i went after the funerals of both grandfathers- a random, unplanned coincidence.
when i walked into the bar tonight i did not recognize my parents until my mother waved. they look older every time i see them. they still look great- i come from good stock- but... older. they described their road trip to yellowstone and utah. "what a bunch of rednecks" my father said. they happened upon a town-hall barbecue in podunk, idaho; the labor day parade in walla walla; a road-crew worker from coos bay, oregon who played guitar; a flea market in randle, washington. i had requested a shot glass from their voyages. they exceeded my expectations with one metal-embossed with the LDS temple in salt lake city.
my mri came back with no changes. I HAVE HAD NO BRAIN DEGRESSION IN 2 YEARS. and one particular, prominent lesion that was present 2 years ago is no longer there. i don't know why my face sporadically feels numb, but... FUCK YES. i am doing well. this makes me happier than i can really say. i feel incredibly fucking lucky. and optimistic. and, dare i say it, blessed.
it felt fantastic to tell my parents this. i hate discussing ms with them... hi, i'm your flawed daughter... it was very fucking nice to tell them some genuinely good news. i felt like i made them proud just by existing properly.
*
there are two big things my parents still don't know, and will never have any reason to:
1. they will never know i got back together with tony last winter. they will never know that we were even in contact.
2. they will never know that i was mugged.
*
they were in good spirits tonight. my mother remained coherent and my father remained patient. the trip did them oodles of good. "we got along great" he said several times. "no bickering-" "well, there were a couple times" my mother interrupted. "but nothing big" he added. it made me able to overlook their occasional snipery tonight. the less my mother drinks, the better they interact. how about that! what a downright revolutionary insight.
i will always be their little girl, wanting them to be happy. tonight was the first time in years that i left them thinking "all is good."
*
last night d introduced me to damiano, a mexican liqueur. it reminds me of a smoother, less sweet galliano. it is fucking delicious. the plumbing in his unit is fucked up (every time he runs water, it leaks into the american apparel store downstairs, which is hilarious) so he's using a vacant unit on the 4th floor for his sink needs. i requested a tour of his building and so, with snifters in hand, we wandered the halls at midnight. i looked at an apartment in his building back in 1997; they didn't allow cats, and it was a tiny studio for two people. i would have never suspected that 12 years (!) later i would be discovering the 'locked' storage room under the stairs where hundreds of gallons of paint cans are stored. we stood in the alley between his building and the ethiopian restaurant next door. he instructed me to look up. a mannequin head peered over a windowsill. it took a moment to realize that it was not an actual human. "that fucking freaked me out one night" he said.
"norwegian wood" plays.
i just read an article discussing this song. "does anyone really think john ever had to sleep in a bathtub?" it asked.
i love the simplistic tambourine. this is a surprisingly subtle song. the lyrics are the forefront; the other details come later.
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