ostrich-esque

it is ass-cold in ye olde 206- clear and dry, thank god, so it doesn't feel nearly as frigid to my delicate constitution. i was actually surprised to see a frozen-solid puddle...
it finally picked up at the sanctuary. i've been booked the last three shifts- 4 massages per. it is satisfying. a new client tipped me $25 for an hour massage today and said he'll return. two other clients seperately complimented my sigur ros and popul vuh selections. my boss told me i'm "exhibiting more poise." i feel good there. i'm doing more CE next month on the paraspinals, because i'm already getting bored with working with only what i know.
here's that sludgy stew i made a while back. the meaty stuff is textured vegetable protein... excellent hot, repulsive cold. this is the pot that congealed into orphan-porridge and i guiltily dumped most of. fittingly, i just finished "america's wasteland", about the grotesque quantity of food wasted in these parts.

i made another soup last night- taters, onions, chives, celery, and a shit-ton of dill and basil and cumin and cayenne.... and bacon salt.... it's really good cold. i fucking love cooking, despite not ever really doing it.
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the lunar eclipse, as seen through my broken-zoom camera.

k and i went to gasworks with a bottle of cook's champagne and stood on top of the hill with a handful of more-inebriated folk. as soon as the moon was completely red it was buried by clouds and did not reemerge.
i fucking love this city.

last week o made me soup on his sailboat. being cooked for is... awesome. k did it on my birthday: tomato-y chicken and pasta... i dig it. i dig it a lot. it was really fucking good soup. we watched the 'no reservations' episode of iceland. i'm somewhat unnerved now... 13 days.
afterwards i went to k's and we made evil holiday cookies.

i have fucking awesome friends. i feel very lucky.
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because i'm working all the eves and holidays as usual (a welter of vomit and death) my parents came to seattle on sunday. we had a stupidly good meal and took photographs of the restaurant's replica of mannekin pis, complete with the ceramic gnome my parents have taken everywhere.

seriously: this gnome has been to vladivostok, amsterdam, seoul, moscow, bavaria, las vegas... and i got to borrow it for new orleans and honolulu. it's a delightful family tradition. my mother carries it in her purse for such moments.
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other events of the past week:
-monetary reward for accruing the most kudos from my coworkers at the ER.
-a hug from my boss for my 3rd-year anniversary. fuck, 3 years...
-orgasmic pork izakaya.
-trampoline + beck.
-finishing my 2nd book in a week about india.
-sunshine for the past 2 days.
-buying plants.
happily cleaning weird neglected corners of my lair... like the top of my fridge. when you're in the right mood, ain't nothin' funner than making everything just so.
-unearthing my old record player and playing my 45 of '96 tears'- the needle is shit and the singer sounds like tiny tim.
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i am lucky. did i already say that?
*
here is the tongue of tiresias and the hand of me.

everything's better with a marimba or hammond organ.

this week has shown me how awful things could be and how fucking wonderful they actually are. i think i appreciate... but i take it for granted that things will work out certain ways: i'll get up in the morning. i will be ambulatory. i will be employed. i will be healthy, able to communicate, able to see, warm. my friends and family will be healthy and happy. i do not realize how much i fucking EXPECT until the threat of nothingness reminds me.
today i woke up and the house was warm. sunshine was streaming in. i made coffee, read the paper, smiled like a goon, walked to the bus stop with the rolling stones "cherry oh baby" in my headphones, didn;t slur too much at work, had a client tell me that my massage was "one of the best" he's ever had, received sparkly fingerless gloves from a coworker, was able to leave early... i feel light again. the last few days have been saturated with a grey dread unlike any i've felt in years, and now... i feel optimistic. whatever happens, within reason... because there's obviously still sundry ways to yank the rug out from under me.
i shall be less vague when i know more stuff...
*
on the way to work i had a Quintessential Seattle Moment (QSM): walking in front of the qfc on broadway, an empty dick's cup kicked in my general direction by a cursing teenage indigent with neon orange shoelaces and a requisite mongrel. i had my headphones on (dresden dolls, then) but i heard the "fuuuuckkk" he was yelling at another guy. i smiled when i was past. it seemed more poignant at the time than it does now, writing about it...
i was sleeping downstairs friday night and heard a hellacious storm- shit blowing against the windows, wind howling... i woke up freezing. no power. it hadn't been on in a while and it didn't come on until long after i'd left for work at 2pm. my lair was about 50 degrees. it SUCKED. i;ve lived on queen anne for, fuck, four and a half years (!) and i've never had the power go out for more than a clock-fucking second. i got to work early so i could charge my phone and thaw and eat soup. i would not last a day in the wild.
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i made a huge fucking pot of gruel last week. it turned out really well on thursday... it has since congealed and become the slop of "please sir, can i have some more?" i boiled potatoes and celery with a shit-ton (too much, even for me) of salt, BACON SALT, basil, oregano, some generic seasoning mix that comes in a cool box with a chicken on it, textured vegetable protein, dried onions, and quinoa. it makes me feel like i'm living in a drafty flat in poland. or in an unheated apartment in seattle... i've been eating it cold. now that it's four days old and has that creepy condensation-puddle at the bottom of the pot, it's pretty depressing food. but it was fun to make. ain't nothin' much radder than carrying 10 pounds o' taters up a fucking hill... except for carrying cat litter.
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i started "ham on rye" yesterday. you should too.
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last week o showed me his office. glossy red and grey walls, stark artwork, blitzen trapper on the hi-fi. he has a mechanical table. plants. he gave me a vial of sweet basil oil. i like seeing people taking massage in a non-froofy direction. he's debating quitting the sanctuary. "i don't want you to go" i said, looking around his space, "but you totally should."
other things of the past week:
-huge deep-voiced transvestite receptionist at planned parenthood. i didn't realize she was a he until she greeted me in a baritone.
-ceviche and amazing carmelly rum at la isla.
-impressive quantity of chocolate vomit from a very pathetic-looking dog.
-dry cereal dragged through butter.
-the beta band. the budos band. serge gainsbourg. the beatles' version of 'memphis tennessee.'
-jasmine incense.
-chicken noodle soup.
-researching about things i never thought i'd fucking research.
-i shall be staying at the AdaM hotel in reykjavik! note the capital letters. it is part of the name.
-turning a client onto the church. the band.
-stabbing myself with the needle i just did a cystocentesis on... on urine filled with rod bacteria. my finger's still there.
-hitting a van at a stop light, no damage.
-DADT is no more!
-neither is don van vliet.
-an unexpected email from k telling me that he thought of me when he heard he died. he did have excellent taste in music, i'll give him that.
-a man with dark-framed glasses and a full white beard at the table beyond, arms folded across his chest, asking earnestly of his date if she, by chance, does hot yoga.
-i'm going to vegas in february! i have the CE check in my bag... enough for registration, airfare, and probably accommodations. i've never been to las vegas as a nonsmoker... should be interesting.
-i gave a 45 minute chair massage today. i was sweating and watching the clock... there is only so much you can do. she seemed satisfied... she smiled and took my card.
-I HAVE FUCKING BUSINESS CARDS! with my name on them! printed, from a print shop! i picked them up on friday! eeeeeeeeeeee! so exciting!
-there is a lunar eclipse commencing tomorrow night at ~1015 PST, so i heartily recommend you gaze skyward.
*
it's good. life is good.
no edit
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god damn. i just looked out the window, happenstance, and fuck if it's not fucking snowing. sleety ridiculous snotty stuff. huh. i have nothing good to say about that...
i originally looked out the window to speculate on how many memories i have from this vantage point... a decade's worth. and i'm still alive, and so are you.

introversion to a fault. it's kind of always to a fault.

i have been sporadically unable to talk properly for the last few days. i sound like i;m drunk. i'm having specific issues with short vowels and syllables... since i have all the time in the world with my fucking brain to contemplate the situation precisely. i am trying to remain lucid and logical about it: i have MS, which is so insignificant that i have to remind myself of that fact... until it intrudes and forces me to remember. i still get so fucking terrified of What Could Happen and so frantic to prove how aware and appreciative of my body i am: today, for example, i did everything else normally. i moved well, walked everywhere, didn't think about it until i had to open my fucking mouth. i am accustomed to the sort of existence that allows me to, say, do what i did in the last 24 hours: work an 11 hour shift on my feet and running around; jump on the trampoline whilst blasting the, sigh, go-go's; draw; draw blood from puny veins; operate a stick shift on the freeway; buy groceries, 6# of apples in one arm and 10# of cat litter in the other... I USE MY BODY TO LIVE.
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it's all good until i speak.
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i've been hyperaware, over the last few days, of other people's mannerisms. i'm trying to convince myself that it's not a disease flaring up, that i;m merely neurotic. lesson: people stammer a lot! they slur words together and pause in odd places and use "uh" and "um" relentlessly. it's comforting to truly pay attention to such 'imperfections'... yet another example of humans thinking they're far more ostentatiously fucked up than they are. everyone's too bogged down with their own shit... we all have carte blanche.
i wonder if other people do this: compare themselves to those around them to convince them they're, if not "normal", at least fucked-up in a blend-in-able way? i assume so... but it's one of those eerie vulnerabilities that not many people talk about.
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so much of this is probably just me working myself up into a tedious brynn-froth... but i'm seeing my neurologist on monday anyway. fucking peace of mind, justification, whatever... i need that.
*
s left for texas today. i drove him to the airport. and then i drove away. i didn't cry until i hit the freeway. the loneliness slammed down. it doesn't help that the weather is wrist-slittingly bleak and cold... and it's the holidays, and despite how much i vehemently insist that i don't give a fig about such bullshit, it does tend to make one feel slightly nostalgic and isolated. we woke up to his evil alarm and the warm blankets and i didn't want the world to change. i thought "pause this... this is good." but life goes on and he's gone for several weeks and i smacked a car upon return to seattle (no damage or injury, just proof that i was in my own fog and not paying fucking attention) and i spent a long time rereading the same articles in the paper and playing with the cats and wandering vaguely.
i went to ballard and fondled scarves. the guy at the bank told me that one out of twenty people come in reeking of pot. i bought a coconut chai and two cds. some place was selling cedar balls for 50 cents apiece. i recognized a dog with very distinctive hair that was at the ER last night- i don't remember what for- she looked fine now. bus to the u district: the driver let two homeless people on whilst reprimanding them. "i'll let you ride anyways" he said. the woman thanked him meekly. jasmine incense. girls in ill-fitting pants and ugly boots and open-mouthed laughter; guys with pasty skin and flat asses and dirty hair. bus to capitol hill: listening to blur and nodding off. 00-gauge spacers. the rain started. walked here, where i am now typing this, with my hands in my pockets- a bolus of rain fell from an eave 4 stories up and landed in my pocket too.
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this is a 'take a step back' kind of day. perhaps after class i will make a ridiculous soup. i'm going to dice my ass off.
here's a facebook outtake... am i the only one who gets narcissistic in public bathrooms? no?

my flippancy belies my fear. everything will work out regardless. life has a funny way.

antici....

i have no life.

i take that back- i have been so fucking inconsolably JANGLY lately, i can scarcely tolerate myself. this is entirely self-induced... yet another example of not appreciating the moment in lieu of completely unsatisfying possibilities.
(see: quebec, copenhagen, paris, platinum blonde, nose piercing, the atelier, new orleans...)
i get so fucking exhausted with myself sometimes.
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every winter i fluctuate between two extremes: the "yay, i live in seattle" mindset of appreciating bare pavement and culture and tall trees and scarves; and the "fuck, i live in seattle" mindset of blinking dully at relentless greyness and pale skin and varying shades of grim and SAD and perpetual dampness. this winter has kicked my psychological ass thus far and it's not even halfway through december. i am sure there are other reasons for that... i am overworked and frustrated and underpaid and unsatisfied and always looking for the fucking thrill that will somehow distract me from the ennui and make everything better. this is a childish way to view the world. dissatisfaction dissolves into self-deprecation.
i passed this on capitol hill:

it helped.
tonight it fucking poured, again. we stood outside the sanctuary and took pictures.
this is a shitty picture, but i was getting wet.
saturated.


antique scream is a fucking awesome band from the bowels of oregon. they have the rawkstar thing down, i must say.


the past few weeks:
red walls.
homemade guacamole that kicked ass, if i do say so.
culture shock: india.
walking at night and listening to "you put the lime in the coconut, you're such a silly woman."
insomnia.
feeling like a feral cat.
dogs vomiting chocolate, chewing tobacco, marijuana, and antiinflammatories.
clary sage.
knees in stirrups while i'm asked what i'm doing for the holidays.
slurring without being drunk.
gala apples with cinnamon sugar.
ceviche.
ginger.
eloy.
making a fucking ass out of myself.
*
looking at my life and smiling nurturingly, bemusedly, detachedly: "oh brynn, you silly, silly little girl."

danger

I have been smiling so much lately. zingy. hyper-aware yet painfully oblivious. there is not the comfort of familiarity; instead it is the thrill of novelty.
a cette je dis "baisez-le." la vie est être vu. donc il est.
je prend a la merde plus je voudrais faire avec ma vie... vivre en Québec, parler français, nouveau amis, nouveau hommes. les chambres avec tapis et chats et soliel et joyeux. je dormis en ton bras.
sans lis... pardonnez.