witnesses

december has been fucking insane.

i have probably written of this (noting the irony) before, but i vividly recall sitting at the corner of the bar at darwin's, writing in my journal, and a man stumbling up to me and saying "you write so much. every time i see you, you're writing. stop writing and start living." he smiled and walked away. i remember this especially well because i, true to form, promptly wrote the quote down and described the encounter.
writing has always been the medium that keeps me calibrated. i forget how much i need the ability to process until i escalate into complete fucking neuroses. this past month has been wonderful, exciting, wrenching, FUN, and i haven't had time to write anything. and the pitch in my brain has grown intolerably shrill as a result. i forget. i feel much fucking better now. i feel fucking giddy, actually.
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i saw my oma last week. it had been months. she is 93 years old and mostly senile. i was surprised that she remembered me. her health has deescalated dramatically since our last visit. i held her arm everywhere we walked. she had a hacking fit all over the incredibly patient waitress at the restaurant we went to. my mother and i sat across the table and pretended not to notice her add 4 teabags to one cup, leave a drippy mess, and messily gum her quesadilla.
she is darling. but she was never, even in her spry days, one to bake cookies or offer a hug.

i showed her this picture after i took it. "god, i look miserable" was all she said.
i drove back to seattle in rush-hour unheated hell, listening to b's cd. it was fucking good. it induced emotion.
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when dogs eat these, they spray the lining of their large intestine at a horizontal angle out of their anus!

...and i graduated massage school. my license is pending with the state. i will write more about that eventually. 'tis bittersweet. i am not thinking about the future too much right now... for once.
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the present has been pretty entertaining.

the problem with writing: it is interesting to nobody but me. the only reason i fucking blog is because writing longhand is oftentimes too tedious... and i'm a fucking exhibitionist.