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.
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this is the view from the window behind me as i type this:

it is yet another wet, wet night in seattle.