there's a book on bathroom graffiti on the sale table at the university bookstore. it only included one from seattle- from the comet- the rest was overwhelmingly from texas, nyc, and los angeles. two loo tags from my classy seattle nights come immediately to mind: "jeff goldblum is watching you pee", under which someone scrawled "best graffiti ever!", at the dubliner in fremont (i've probably mentioned that one before), and "i can see you", years ago and since painted over, in the lower arcade at pike place market.
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my arms are still redolent with massage oil. i'm sticking to the table as i type. i kind of love my life.
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i went to fucking thurston county yesterday to meet my clan for my grandmother's 80th birthday. i was already vexed because the 'green wellness' thing turned out to be bullshit. as in, nonexistent. as in, a health club with some dude saying "yeah, they left on bad terms" and me saying "in the past two days?" their "location" was kind of lovely, though: right on lake union, with houseboats abutting and birds wandering about. it was below the china harbor behemoth on westlake. there's a full-on fucking swimming pool down there! now you know.
so i was feeling rather surly already. the car did wonderfully. i drove to olympia in hideous rain, listening to can and pink floyd. i was enjoying myself until i passed my former exit, and then the depressing memories kicked back in. i don't think of specific things, really, just a generalized malaise. i was so fucking unhappy when i lived down there. i have mentioned this before, but i don't think even i truly know (or want to know) exactly how that era of my life permanently fucked me up.
or maybe it improved things. you can't appreciate until you know how shitty things can be as an alternative.
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i am thankful of my current contentment.
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the demographic is just different there. i was behind a minivan with a chain-link license plate frame, a 'support our troops' sticker, and a christfish. i went to tar-jay to buy cheap nicotine lozenges (needing to burn through the wad of cash in my pocket that i did not use at the bullshit-pot-place) and saw guys wearing huge medallions and backwards ballcaps, teenagers holding their own spawn, moussed hair. this, to clarify, is in lacey. in olympia, on the other side of i-5, the populace becomes old and white and beaurocratic- lots of gold jewelry and obama stickers and snotty earnestness- not the hippie dreams of olympia 25 years ago, but the nimby, pleated, constipated version of "liberal." there are probably still the vile urchins along state street and 4th ave- downtown olympia is filled with evergreen rejects with their stank and their fucking dogs and their american spirit cigarettes- but that's not open-minded awesomeness, that's just being a fucking smelly putz.
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i will discuss, or not, the familial pathos later. it was often taxing. i wince a lot with my family. but it improved by the time i made my grateful voyage back to seattle.
the skyline is always such a glorious view. that curve on i-5, when the city appears, feels like a triumph every time. it reminds me that i have my own lovely life now.
a few days ago s and i had tapas. this is the stuffed squid with awesome red sauce.

blood sausage with cocoa powder and superfluous popcorn!

and sunday night, the view from o's 'front yard'.

it's good to have a delightful world to come home to.