fifteen minutes into my shift and I'm holding the muzzled front end of a horrible shih tzu sovthe doctor can swab a culturette over possible MRSA lesions on his abdomen. through the muzzle, the snarling little fucker bit me. it was just enough to draw blood so, per ACCES protocol, I am taking up space at the human ER on a busy Sunday afternoon... far more concerned about contracting MRSA and watching my arm rot off than about any bite. "you guys have a rough job" the intake nurse said cheerfully. said another nurse, "I have a shih tzu but he only has one tooth!" pets are so unifying...
after work last night I went to c's. he is truly a delight. we sat in his attic and drank tea and talked about... pretty much anything. a very attractive photograph of syd Barrett is affixed to the brick chimney that runs through the middle of the room. we agreed that it's crucial to always regard the world with wonder... smiling at each other in a "you get it, too" kind of way. I shall never be jaded, honestly. I drove home at 5, t Rex on the radio and the aurora bridge obscured by my perpetually fogged windows, grinning like I didn't know better.
*
you don't need to read "boy" by, I believe, James hanley. it has no redeeming qualitities and it's description of syphillis is medically inaccurate.
*
the nurse brought me a stack of magazines. Seattle, Health, More, or Victoria?
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
a shuddery sigh and a sleepy smile
stephin merritt!
...not bad for a handheld, 15 rows back.
they were brilliant, of course. the guy next to me was alone also. i politely asked him if he'd seen them before. he said no. at intermission he asked "are they always this... mellow?"
j turned me on to the magnetic fields. i have many, many memories attached to them. s dancing along to "totally meaningless." t buying me '69 love songs' because i wanted it, not because it was anything he'd ever heard of or would ever listen to (and he didn't). blaring the 'holiday' album on grey fall days. the crowd was thirties, dark frames and facial hair and quiet appreciation. they played at a venue directly across the street from my former apartment on first hill- i remember blaring them from the 9th floor, possibly singing along. i walked into the misty night smiling.
*
music affirms. it provides a sharp mark on the timeline.
*
the sky was mecurial today. the hiss of rain would give way to brilliant sunshine. even the downpours were somehow glowing. i sprawled on the trampoline and read an entire bukowski novel (another one- i have to pace myself because i can only obtain them new. the libraries and used stores are hopeless- too many pervs in this berg, i suspect).
today, at the lair. soundtrack: "primitive" by the groupies.
this is hideously cliche and i am reminded of that line from 'lost in translation'... you know the one. i have been experimenting with self-portraits. the others are not appropriate for a family medium.
a lyric from last night's opener (whose name i never heard): "the proud crowd all looks away as though they've never been lost or lonely/and no one's gonna save you."
*
pedestrians outside the window of the cafe i'm at walk west, pupils constricted against the setting sun.
...not bad for a handheld, 15 rows back.
they were brilliant, of course. the guy next to me was alone also. i politely asked him if he'd seen them before. he said no. at intermission he asked "are they always this... mellow?"
j turned me on to the magnetic fields. i have many, many memories attached to them. s dancing along to "totally meaningless." t buying me '69 love songs' because i wanted it, not because it was anything he'd ever heard of or would ever listen to (and he didn't). blaring the 'holiday' album on grey fall days. the crowd was thirties, dark frames and facial hair and quiet appreciation. they played at a venue directly across the street from my former apartment on first hill- i remember blaring them from the 9th floor, possibly singing along. i walked into the misty night smiling.
*
music affirms. it provides a sharp mark on the timeline.
*
the sky was mecurial today. the hiss of rain would give way to brilliant sunshine. even the downpours were somehow glowing. i sprawled on the trampoline and read an entire bukowski novel (another one- i have to pace myself because i can only obtain them new. the libraries and used stores are hopeless- too many pervs in this berg, i suspect).
today, at the lair. soundtrack: "primitive" by the groupies.
this is hideously cliche and i am reminded of that line from 'lost in translation'... you know the one. i have been experimenting with self-portraits. the others are not appropriate for a family medium.
a lyric from last night's opener (whose name i never heard): "the proud crowd all looks away as though they've never been lost or lonely/and no one's gonna save you."
*
pedestrians outside the window of the cafe i'm at walk west, pupils constricted against the setting sun.
Monday, February 22, 2010
budding, blooming... dripping dew...
it has been warm and sunny for the past week. the cherry trees are blooming and people are uniformly cheerful.
these multicolored carrots thrill me.
plans for spring/summer 2010:
-actual garden-on-deck. actual deck usage. i am going to hang lights and procure cheap seating and invite people over for refreshments. four years of living there and my utilization of the space has been meager at best... especially, sadly, since i quit smoking 2 years ago.
-yakima valley wine tasting... augmented with appropriate white-trashiness, of course.
-trip to vancouver when it isn't ass-cold and grey. the night market in victoria would be delightful also.
-a drive-in movie...
-more dance classes.
-hike something.
-sun tea.
-wear skirts.
i write this whilst wearing fingerless gloves and a sweater, "psycho killer" playing in the background... the night is clear and inky. it is easy to be fanciful when the future seems annoyingly intangible.
*
tonight s and i went to our new favorite sushi place. we had omikase. "anything you don't want?" she asked. "no." she declined all matters uni and the meal began. this was our bill. finances, woman! didn't i fucking vow not to do this?
i had never eaten a fried shrimp head, complete with eyeballs, before. it was delicious. the toro, OH MY GOD. the entire meal was fucking orgasmic. "you just watched me eat more flesh than i've eaten in about six years" i said after, grinning uncontrollably. "i am so proud of you" she replied.
we now have an unofficial standing weekly sushi date. i cannot responsibly eat nigiri every time... but even the cucumber rolls at this place are somehow better than others.
*
life is to be lived, after all.
*
today, walking towards downtown:
i immediately thought of what a cool lair that would be- why not?
*
tonight i listened to "my heart is a flower," a song i hadn't heard in about 15 (!) years. i remembered every line and laughed aloud at how time can fucking stand still so beautifully. suck me dry/til i wilt/til i'm nothing/til next spring.
these multicolored carrots thrill me.
plans for spring/summer 2010:
-actual garden-on-deck. actual deck usage. i am going to hang lights and procure cheap seating and invite people over for refreshments. four years of living there and my utilization of the space has been meager at best... especially, sadly, since i quit smoking 2 years ago.
-yakima valley wine tasting... augmented with appropriate white-trashiness, of course.
-trip to vancouver when it isn't ass-cold and grey. the night market in victoria would be delightful also.
-a drive-in movie...
-more dance classes.
-hike something.
-sun tea.
-wear skirts.
i write this whilst wearing fingerless gloves and a sweater, "psycho killer" playing in the background... the night is clear and inky. it is easy to be fanciful when the future seems annoyingly intangible.
*
tonight s and i went to our new favorite sushi place. we had omikase. "anything you don't want?" she asked. "no." she declined all matters uni and the meal began. this was our bill. finances, woman! didn't i fucking vow not to do this?
i had never eaten a fried shrimp head, complete with eyeballs, before. it was delicious. the toro, OH MY GOD. the entire meal was fucking orgasmic. "you just watched me eat more flesh than i've eaten in about six years" i said after, grinning uncontrollably. "i am so proud of you" she replied.
we now have an unofficial standing weekly sushi date. i cannot responsibly eat nigiri every time... but even the cucumber rolls at this place are somehow better than others.
*
life is to be lived, after all.
*
today, walking towards downtown:
i immediately thought of what a cool lair that would be- why not?
*
tonight i listened to "my heart is a flower," a song i hadn't heard in about 15 (!) years. i remembered every line and laughed aloud at how time can fucking stand still so beautifully. suck me dry/til i wilt/til i'm nothing/til next spring.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
ceiling fan shadows over empty barstools
this was advertising a brand of beer, but i love this sign regardless.
herewith, i shall vent about my fucking job.
our hours were cut last week, yet i mysteriously went from 3 shifts to 4 plus an on-call day. i have no days off together. i work thursdays 4-1, fridays 4-1, saturdays 9p-2a, sundays 4-1, and tuesdays on-call 4-12. what the fuck? c, who does the schedule, put her arm around me as she apologized. and i'm fucking pissed. i'm pissed because the place is going to shit. we're opening a satellite in renton in april and the plan is to cleave the staff between the two facilities- thereby restoring everyone from 3/4 to full time. this current schedule, therefore, is only in place until then... for now. we're all getting jacked in the meantime. i have far more responsibilities and no raise in 2 years. someone was fired a few weeks ago for "not living up to the core values of ACCES" (which they have framed on multiple walls of the hospital). i just don't fucking care. nobody does. and yet we are all so terrified of not having a job, of knowing that there ARE NO OTHER JOBS out there that do what we do, and honestly liking the place and our coworkers and the medicine we provide, that it's unwise to be dissonant. i mean, what's anyone going to do? there are no resources. we're all fucked. my frustration lies there- i hate feeling trapped, and i feel trapped. i wouldn't tolerate being treated this way if there were actually other options, but there aren't, and we all fucking know it.
i was looking at massage jobs online. they're all on the eastside, at spas and chiropractic offices, sounding odious on multiple levels. one place required we provide our own sheets to work in THEIR facility! fuck you, random clinic in issaquah! the pay at one place was $31/hr; the others didn't list their wages. i think "if i got totally desperate, i could do that... sell my soul to a fucking spa... i guess..." in the same way i think "i have a vagina, so i could always be a prostitute."
i would have to be desperate, i'm afraid.
*
today being my "on-call" shift, i spent it worrying that they were going to call. i seriously curtailed my normal activities... i spent only 15 minutes at a friend's birthday because i had to be in close proximity of my vehicle... i was stone-cold sober until i finally called work around 1030pm. "can i consider myself off-call so i can drink?" i blurted out. i didn't even neccessarily want one, but i hate being told i can't. and i resent the neurotic knot that the work situation has left in me; i hate walking on fucking eggshells in my own life.
at least i have a job.
i am very lucky to have a job. i do recognize and appreciate that. a lot.
it is 'nice' to know that we're all equally screwed. i am one of 60 people affected by this. i'm not alone. nobody is. that helps.
*
i bought my friend a cheap-ass bottle of champagne for his birthday. in front of me in line was a man buying his groceries with food stamps. i got a sick feeling- fuck, that'll be me. and i remembered anew how fucking lucky i am. i am very fortunate to be able to have a job to whine like a spoiled brat about.
i also found out that i can reapply for the avonex grant- the medication i take weekly for the MS. my income qualifies me for 2 years of free injections. without the grant it's about $1,200 a MONTH. i have been seriously worried about this for a while- i haven't had any real issues since i've been on the meds and the thought of being off them petrifies me, as hideous as they can be. knowing that i don't have to go bankrupt to keep myself healthy was a pleasant relief.
*
i fucking hate america. i hate that a fucking first-world country has to worry about such primitive shit.
i am an extremely disillusioned socialist.
*
went to brendan benson last night. i was in a flat mood- not the greatest for a concert environment. frank fairchild was sublime. brendan benson was endearing in a verse-chorus-verse kind of way. the drunken oafs seperating me from the stage kept slam-dancing inappropriately and the older man beside me had horrific flatulence. i actually left halfway through the set and rode the bus aimlessly, listening to "sh-boom" and feeling guiltily content.
the doors opened at 7. i was at the nearby thrift store until 845, reading "into the wild" for the first time. i was living in alaska when this happened (~1992) and recall the universal derision for this idealistic motherfucker. my boyfriend at the time thought he was cool, i remember. reading the story and thinking about how relate-to-able his mindset was- that whole fuck-materialism, live-off-the-grid, immortality thing- and how easy it is to think it can be applied to your own life, made me really sad whilst reading it. more than that, it made me feel really fucking old. i felt like slapping his fool ass into sense, not making him my personal garden of eden.
and it made me homesick.
but mostly, it just made me feel nauseous. it hit really close to home for no concrete reason. it was like reading about someone i went to school with. it was like knowing the future and watching someone walk into the building before it explodes.
*
it was in that mindset that i arrived at the show at 845. the place was as empty as i've ever seen neumo's.
i sucked on a nicotine lozenge and watched a pizza get delivered backstage.
*
this and every night, after the crowds leave.
i cannot wait for summer. i walked around for a while in a sweater, my coat slung over my bag. by the time i stranded my ass in broadview the sky was spitting rain and my coat was back on. the cherry trees are beginning to blossom. things are going to be fine, in their own convoluted way.
no edit
herewith, i shall vent about my fucking job.
our hours were cut last week, yet i mysteriously went from 3 shifts to 4 plus an on-call day. i have no days off together. i work thursdays 4-1, fridays 4-1, saturdays 9p-2a, sundays 4-1, and tuesdays on-call 4-12. what the fuck? c, who does the schedule, put her arm around me as she apologized. and i'm fucking pissed. i'm pissed because the place is going to shit. we're opening a satellite in renton in april and the plan is to cleave the staff between the two facilities- thereby restoring everyone from 3/4 to full time. this current schedule, therefore, is only in place until then... for now. we're all getting jacked in the meantime. i have far more responsibilities and no raise in 2 years. someone was fired a few weeks ago for "not living up to the core values of ACCES" (which they have framed on multiple walls of the hospital). i just don't fucking care. nobody does. and yet we are all so terrified of not having a job, of knowing that there ARE NO OTHER JOBS out there that do what we do, and honestly liking the place and our coworkers and the medicine we provide, that it's unwise to be dissonant. i mean, what's anyone going to do? there are no resources. we're all fucked. my frustration lies there- i hate feeling trapped, and i feel trapped. i wouldn't tolerate being treated this way if there were actually other options, but there aren't, and we all fucking know it.
i was looking at massage jobs online. they're all on the eastside, at spas and chiropractic offices, sounding odious on multiple levels. one place required we provide our own sheets to work in THEIR facility! fuck you, random clinic in issaquah! the pay at one place was $31/hr; the others didn't list their wages. i think "if i got totally desperate, i could do that... sell my soul to a fucking spa... i guess..." in the same way i think "i have a vagina, so i could always be a prostitute."
i would have to be desperate, i'm afraid.
*
today being my "on-call" shift, i spent it worrying that they were going to call. i seriously curtailed my normal activities... i spent only 15 minutes at a friend's birthday because i had to be in close proximity of my vehicle... i was stone-cold sober until i finally called work around 1030pm. "can i consider myself off-call so i can drink?" i blurted out. i didn't even neccessarily want one, but i hate being told i can't. and i resent the neurotic knot that the work situation has left in me; i hate walking on fucking eggshells in my own life.
at least i have a job.
i am very lucky to have a job. i do recognize and appreciate that. a lot.
it is 'nice' to know that we're all equally screwed. i am one of 60 people affected by this. i'm not alone. nobody is. that helps.
*
i bought my friend a cheap-ass bottle of champagne for his birthday. in front of me in line was a man buying his groceries with food stamps. i got a sick feeling- fuck, that'll be me. and i remembered anew how fucking lucky i am. i am very fortunate to be able to have a job to whine like a spoiled brat about.
i also found out that i can reapply for the avonex grant- the medication i take weekly for the MS. my income qualifies me for 2 years of free injections. without the grant it's about $1,200 a MONTH. i have been seriously worried about this for a while- i haven't had any real issues since i've been on the meds and the thought of being off them petrifies me, as hideous as they can be. knowing that i don't have to go bankrupt to keep myself healthy was a pleasant relief.
*
i fucking hate america. i hate that a fucking first-world country has to worry about such primitive shit.
i am an extremely disillusioned socialist.
*
went to brendan benson last night. i was in a flat mood- not the greatest for a concert environment. frank fairchild was sublime. brendan benson was endearing in a verse-chorus-verse kind of way. the drunken oafs seperating me from the stage kept slam-dancing inappropriately and the older man beside me had horrific flatulence. i actually left halfway through the set and rode the bus aimlessly, listening to "sh-boom" and feeling guiltily content.
the doors opened at 7. i was at the nearby thrift store until 845, reading "into the wild" for the first time. i was living in alaska when this happened (~1992) and recall the universal derision for this idealistic motherfucker. my boyfriend at the time thought he was cool, i remember. reading the story and thinking about how relate-to-able his mindset was- that whole fuck-materialism, live-off-the-grid, immortality thing- and how easy it is to think it can be applied to your own life, made me really sad whilst reading it. more than that, it made me feel really fucking old. i felt like slapping his fool ass into sense, not making him my personal garden of eden.
and it made me homesick.
but mostly, it just made me feel nauseous. it hit really close to home for no concrete reason. it was like reading about someone i went to school with. it was like knowing the future and watching someone walk into the building before it explodes.
*
it was in that mindset that i arrived at the show at 845. the place was as empty as i've ever seen neumo's.
i sucked on a nicotine lozenge and watched a pizza get delivered backstage.
*
this and every night, after the crowds leave.
i cannot wait for summer. i walked around for a while in a sweater, my coat slung over my bag. by the time i stranded my ass in broadview the sky was spitting rain and my coat was back on. the cherry trees are beginning to blossom. things are going to be fine, in their own convoluted way.
no edit
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
i shall bend to the will of FANTASTICNESS!
first, a sexy plant that has evolved to collect and conserve its own nutrients, whilst still maintaining a shape that somehow reminds me of an open, willing mouth...
https://fortress.wa.gov/doh/providercredentialsearch/SearchResult.aspx
look! go on! fucking hell! it's awesome!
now i can exhale and humbly chronicle the angst of the last 2 months... the daily checking of this website, the bleatings on facebook of classmates getting licensed before i -i, i would snottily, silently fume, who took the boards before any of them!-, the general foul feelings of envy and frustration and helplessness and the delusions of "fuck massage, i already have a career, i never really cared about it, i just wanted something to do..."
i finally called the dept of health today. i went to the calder exhibit at the seattle art museum- he's already one of my favorite artists, but my fucking god. i think i like the shadows his pieces cast against the blank white walls more than the solid creations. "gamma" is my favorite- it reminds me of a time-lapse film of springtime. i asked a kindly guard if i could take pictures. he said no and thanked me for asking. i smiled and blurted out "damn!" i immediately apologized.
the silver prints from his NY studio were fucking awesome- photographs that were taken in the 30s-40s, full of shapes and shadows. yes, the beauty of calder is in the remnant left behind- that moment when you look at the reflection and it resembles a fish, or a flower, and then you realize your mind went somewhere you totally didn't intend it to go in imagining that... that is art. that is art to me, anyhow... anything that evokes a response you may have not anticipated in yourself.
um, calder...
so after i wandered through the exhibit (and revisited my favorite piece of SAM's permanent collection, "leda and the swan" by john covert) and was all lulled and mellow, but admittedly gushingly menstrual, i remembered the 2-month clusterfuckery of my licensure. "FUCK THIS" i thought, and i sat on an exceedingly comfortable wooden ergonomic chair in a marble stairwell, across from a statue of a camel, and dialed olympia. what had held up my license thus far? an LVT from alaska, 2002, that had been misread as "LMP (licensed massage practitioner)" that they needed a copy of (and upon realizing their gaffe cheerfully said "oh! don't worry about that. that one's for animals!", and a lack of a date for the taking of my boards. "it was september 22" i said. "i think. it was the tuesday of that week." "oh!" said barbara, the very nice woman whom i've dealt with for all my washington licensure woes. "there you are! you popped right up!"
i *should* be annoyed with the dunderheads in olympia for fucking up the last month+ of my life (and i *should* be annoyed with cortiva for fucking up the previous month) but i am not. i am elated. i have the "license" page on speed-dial on my phone. i was in fremont, holding a cup of hibiscus tea in one hand and cynically checking my status with the other, standing underneath an awning to avoid the pissing rain, and i fucking gasped. i squealed. i yelled "HOLY SHIT!" and started to laugh. i may have even danced. i don't quite remember.
*
i listened to "another way to die", the jack white-alicia keys collaboration that is REALLY FUCKING GOOD, whilst staring out the bus window and grinning like a fool. i am fucking proud. the world opens up in a way i have not allowed myself to acknowledge thus far. even if i never do anything with it, i could. and i remembered tonight how much i fucking love cranio-sacral. i am excited again. i feel like i finally fucking accomplished something with my admittedly scattershot life.
*
the tongue-plant above and this dewy li'l marvel are both from one of my favorite places in seattle, the indoor sun shoppe. today was fucking bleak. i am a greenhouse whore in general, and this place has humidity and succulents up the wazoo... and they're open several hours later than the volunteer park conservatory.
i believe their secretions are to trap wayward insects... this is a carnivorous plant. they become paralyzed in the sticky miasma! plants are fucking brilliant.
the "blue study" posted yesterday? NO LONGER APPLICABLE. i love the softness of this, how everything bleeds into itself. this is a curvature of the EMP, obviously. the sky was that fucking grey.
monday night? i found "vox" at the used bookstore. i reread it in one sitting. the last 'session' always makes me fucking squirm. an older woman was browsing nearby. i was studiously trying not to grind myself against the chair. oh brynn, don't write that! i carefully reshelved the book in its proper place afterwards. thanx vox, yr awesome 4ever!
*
i already love this dumb town, but today i love my place in it a little more.
no edit
https://fortress.wa.gov/doh/providercredentialsearch/SearchResult.aspx
look! go on! fucking hell! it's awesome!
now i can exhale and humbly chronicle the angst of the last 2 months... the daily checking of this website, the bleatings on facebook of classmates getting licensed before i -i, i would snottily, silently fume, who took the boards before any of them!-, the general foul feelings of envy and frustration and helplessness and the delusions of "fuck massage, i already have a career, i never really cared about it, i just wanted something to do..."
i finally called the dept of health today. i went to the calder exhibit at the seattle art museum- he's already one of my favorite artists, but my fucking god. i think i like the shadows his pieces cast against the blank white walls more than the solid creations. "gamma" is my favorite- it reminds me of a time-lapse film of springtime. i asked a kindly guard if i could take pictures. he said no and thanked me for asking. i smiled and blurted out "damn!" i immediately apologized.
the silver prints from his NY studio were fucking awesome- photographs that were taken in the 30s-40s, full of shapes and shadows. yes, the beauty of calder is in the remnant left behind- that moment when you look at the reflection and it resembles a fish, or a flower, and then you realize your mind went somewhere you totally didn't intend it to go in imagining that... that is art. that is art to me, anyhow... anything that evokes a response you may have not anticipated in yourself.
um, calder...
so after i wandered through the exhibit (and revisited my favorite piece of SAM's permanent collection, "leda and the swan" by john covert) and was all lulled and mellow, but admittedly gushingly menstrual, i remembered the 2-month clusterfuckery of my licensure. "FUCK THIS" i thought, and i sat on an exceedingly comfortable wooden ergonomic chair in a marble stairwell, across from a statue of a camel, and dialed olympia. what had held up my license thus far? an LVT from alaska, 2002, that had been misread as "LMP (licensed massage practitioner)" that they needed a copy of (and upon realizing their gaffe cheerfully said "oh! don't worry about that. that one's for animals!", and a lack of a date for the taking of my boards. "it was september 22" i said. "i think. it was the tuesday of that week." "oh!" said barbara, the very nice woman whom i've dealt with for all my washington licensure woes. "there you are! you popped right up!"
i *should* be annoyed with the dunderheads in olympia for fucking up the last month+ of my life (and i *should* be annoyed with cortiva for fucking up the previous month) but i am not. i am elated. i have the "license" page on speed-dial on my phone. i was in fremont, holding a cup of hibiscus tea in one hand and cynically checking my status with the other, standing underneath an awning to avoid the pissing rain, and i fucking gasped. i squealed. i yelled "HOLY SHIT!" and started to laugh. i may have even danced. i don't quite remember.
*
i listened to "another way to die", the jack white-alicia keys collaboration that is REALLY FUCKING GOOD, whilst staring out the bus window and grinning like a fool. i am fucking proud. the world opens up in a way i have not allowed myself to acknowledge thus far. even if i never do anything with it, i could. and i remembered tonight how much i fucking love cranio-sacral. i am excited again. i feel like i finally fucking accomplished something with my admittedly scattershot life.
*
the tongue-plant above and this dewy li'l marvel are both from one of my favorite places in seattle, the indoor sun shoppe. today was fucking bleak. i am a greenhouse whore in general, and this place has humidity and succulents up the wazoo... and they're open several hours later than the volunteer park conservatory.
i believe their secretions are to trap wayward insects... this is a carnivorous plant. they become paralyzed in the sticky miasma! plants are fucking brilliant.
the "blue study" posted yesterday? NO LONGER APPLICABLE. i love the softness of this, how everything bleeds into itself. this is a curvature of the EMP, obviously. the sky was that fucking grey.
monday night? i found "vox" at the used bookstore. i reread it in one sitting. the last 'session' always makes me fucking squirm. an older woman was browsing nearby. i was studiously trying not to grind myself against the chair. oh brynn, don't write that! i carefully reshelved the book in its proper place afterwards. thanx vox, yr awesome 4ever!
*
i already love this dumb town, but today i love my place in it a little more.
no edit
Tuesday, February 09, 2010
there are still gravelly alleyways in the heart of seattle. i love this route.
this is, admittedly, a terrible photograph- adjacent buildings prohibited me from aligning it to my preference. and it's generic as fuck. but i love the way the blue sky is reflected... a thin line seperates the structure from its background.
last week continued the pattern of "2010, not so much." luckily everything has crescendoed to the point where i am happy and well-humoured again; as the parlance goes, i am trying to Take It In Stride. at the end of my 13hr shift on sunday i got bit by a cat; since one of the other techs got bit a few weeks ago and ended up having to stay in the hospital for a week on IV antibiotics for severe tendonitis, we are all required to visit the ER any time a bite breaks the skin. i waited at the hospital for 3 hours, feeling inane, watching 'the family guy' and my inaugural episodes of 'john and kate plus 8' (OH MY FUCK) at 3-5 am. i was sent home with an rx for doxyxycline. i feel like i've been on a lot of antibiotics lately. that extra tweak in my circadian rhythm has fucked up the last 2 days. i woke at 5 this morning, went back to sleep around 9, woke at noon, and cleaned the fuck out of my house. i mean, my shower actually drains now. i was horrified by the amount of filth and debris i ignore: plant leaves caked with dust, the black mold on the outside of the toilet, long-forgotten chex scattered behind a plant. "i will never be this gross again!" i cheerily vowed whilst taking a blissfully un-clogged shower afterwards. the truth of this remains to be seen; i default to sloth all too rapidly.
*
this is from a postcard i have on my fridge. the boy is holding his dog; in the background is a mushroom cloud. this is one of the first photos i took with my iphone. i like the blur.
"i like the blur" should be in my obituary.
this is, admittedly, a terrible photograph- adjacent buildings prohibited me from aligning it to my preference. and it's generic as fuck. but i love the way the blue sky is reflected... a thin line seperates the structure from its background.
last week continued the pattern of "2010, not so much." luckily everything has crescendoed to the point where i am happy and well-humoured again; as the parlance goes, i am trying to Take It In Stride. at the end of my 13hr shift on sunday i got bit by a cat; since one of the other techs got bit a few weeks ago and ended up having to stay in the hospital for a week on IV antibiotics for severe tendonitis, we are all required to visit the ER any time a bite breaks the skin. i waited at the hospital for 3 hours, feeling inane, watching 'the family guy' and my inaugural episodes of 'john and kate plus 8' (OH MY FUCK) at 3-5 am. i was sent home with an rx for doxyxycline. i feel like i've been on a lot of antibiotics lately. that extra tweak in my circadian rhythm has fucked up the last 2 days. i woke at 5 this morning, went back to sleep around 9, woke at noon, and cleaned the fuck out of my house. i mean, my shower actually drains now. i was horrified by the amount of filth and debris i ignore: plant leaves caked with dust, the black mold on the outside of the toilet, long-forgotten chex scattered behind a plant. "i will never be this gross again!" i cheerily vowed whilst taking a blissfully un-clogged shower afterwards. the truth of this remains to be seen; i default to sloth all too rapidly.
*
this is from a postcard i have on my fridge. the boy is holding his dog; in the background is a mushroom cloud. this is one of the first photos i took with my iphone. i like the blur.
"i like the blur" should be in my obituary.
Saturday, February 06, 2010
women will usurp men for sheer vulgarity, always. I love that about my gender. it was very therapeutic to go out, drink a lot, eat delicious sushi, and talk about everything from UTIs to faking orgasms to horrible sex with guys who don't realize it's horrible. we all agreed that "when it's right, you know." and I have never had bad sex with someone I truly cared about.
*
bad sex is your body's way of saying "why the fuck are you with this person?"
*
we're getting our hours cut again. spending about $100 last night on debauchery was bittersweet; I shan't do that again for awhile. the winter has been thuddingly slow at work; it was either everyone reduce hours or several people get laid off. I've lived on 3/4 time before. it'll be fine. p said "there's your incentive to do massage"- and once I finally get my fucking license (still pending in the system) I will. I need my ass kicked into motivation far more frequently than I care to admit.
On a financially hypocritical note, I enthusiastically agreed to go to Ireland in September...
*
i've started drawing again- going to the figure sessions that are held all over town. it is so narcotic. I love walking home with a graphite-stained arm. and I'm designing p's massage logo, trying to draw fucking hands. I really, really hate drawing hands... I don't think I can put mittens on a massage ad, unfortunately.
it is sunny, upper 50s, jubilantly springlike. I saw fully bloomed daffodils in someone's yard yesterday. the deck door is open. I can hear the oceanlike roar of the freeway.
*
bad sex is your body's way of saying "why the fuck are you with this person?"
*
we're getting our hours cut again. spending about $100 last night on debauchery was bittersweet; I shan't do that again for awhile. the winter has been thuddingly slow at work; it was either everyone reduce hours or several people get laid off. I've lived on 3/4 time before. it'll be fine. p said "there's your incentive to do massage"- and once I finally get my fucking license (still pending in the system) I will. I need my ass kicked into motivation far more frequently than I care to admit.
On a financially hypocritical note, I enthusiastically agreed to go to Ireland in September...
*
i've started drawing again- going to the figure sessions that are held all over town. it is so narcotic. I love walking home with a graphite-stained arm. and I'm designing p's massage logo, trying to draw fucking hands. I really, really hate drawing hands... I don't think I can put mittens on a massage ad, unfortunately.
it is sunny, upper 50s, jubilantly springlike. I saw fully bloomed daffodils in someone's yard yesterday. the deck door is open. I can hear the oceanlike roar of the freeway.
Tuesday, February 02, 2010
unsaid
freedom extends before me as a white-yellow mass.
i am giddy and horribly sad at the same time. i hate feeling disposable. doesn't everyone?
fuck it. everything else is grand. that whole situation, the situation which is done now, only stressed me out. now i can stop feeling guilty for thinking about somebody else when i masturbate. ha! i mean, ha. in retrospect, that's an incredibly depressing sentence.
LET US MOVE ON.
i joined the "morale committee" at work to boost my own, i don't know, nonexistant morale. the fact of a "morale committee" existing in the first place causes my cynical soul to curdle. true job morale would mean: i have a job. this touchy-feely feel-good pap causes me much wincing. but i lie a bit. i volunteered to be in charge of valentine's day (ha! the IRONY!) and am quite excited. those valentine mailboxes made from paper bags, possibly decorated, filled with variations of "i choo-choo-choose you"? i'm totally gonna do that. everyone was equally happy about the idea. see, we're all inherent ten-year-olds, just inconveniently jaded. the morale committee (HEREAFTER REFERRED TO AS the MC) is responsible for svengali'ing the holiday parties, etc... lots of potlucks. in the faraway distant future, when we actually get raises again, it's supposed to count towards a raise. i am not holding my breath. meanwhile, who doesn't like free food?
part of this newfound onus involved me annoying everyone at work with my camera, getting candid shots for a bulletin board in the back hallway. someone usurped said camera and took a picture of me.
i was walking through the oppresive grey of pioneer square yesterday, taking pictures, when i stumbled upon this in an alley:
i stood under it, trying to find resolution in the completely crappy lighting, for about 10 minutes. everything about this moment: the bricks, the fire escapes, the radom plants, the red glowing windows of the street-level restaurant (not pictured), the puddles, my own frigid hands in fingerless gloves, was eerily perfect. i tried to send an email to s. my mailbox does not show that it was sent.
these are the instances where i am able to justify my life. perhaps i am destined to be a perennial observer, but goddamn if i don't recognize and appreciate my surroundings.
other good things...
-i start lindy hop in 2 weeks!
-my annual work review was on sunday. it was good. they couldn't think of anything to say other than "exercise more patience." i know. I KNOW.
-my neighborhood bar, at the bottom of my hill, is playing ice-t and making a redolent grilled cheese sandwich for someone else. totally weird: i had "it was a good day" in my head MERE HOURS AGO, apropos of nothing... specifically the line "and none of my friends got shot in south central LA." now, ten hours later, my world is a bit tweaked and this song plays. life!
-the white stripes cover of "the seeker" whilst staring out the window of the 44.
-moroccan mint tea
-a HAWKWIND T-SHIRT at a thrift store. i bought it, i'm wearing it. it is, as the parlance goes, buttery-soft. and lavender.
-a scary guy got off at the same bus stop as i. "who's your pick for the super bowl?" he asked me. we had a very nice conversation as we walked to the corner. i wanted to hug him and say "thank you for 1. proving my paranoia incorrect and 2. being nice to me when you absolutely didn't need to and i really fucking needed it", but i smiled and said "are the saints playing? i like new orleans, so i guess i'd choose them" instead.
-the last class of swing 2, level 3.
-aforementioned freedom of immature bullshit. this is one of those rare situations where i don't come across as the asshole! insert listless "yay". seriously, though, this does make me feel a fuckton better.
*
i am reminded of when j first told me he was leaving alaska, and me. we went to the office lounge and got drunk. he was cold and unsavory. i cried, as i do. i vaguely remember leaving. he followed me down the dark bike trail. i cloudily recall turning around and wishing him a good trip. at the time, i was surprised by myself- surprised that i could want him to have fun and prosper. but i did. i loved him. how could i have not wanted that? i walked the rest of the way home by myself, uncomfortably aware that this (after being in several relationships, one of which involved marriage) was quite possibly the first time in my life i'd truly pushed my ego aside for another person.
humans have to do that sometimes.
*
i did it tonight.
i'm not even mad. i'm relieved. sad. a bit pissed. but mostly relieved.
*
like i said, my mind is a promiscuous place.
*
behold a festering urine culture!
(at this point i try, and fail, to work 'the [aforementioned] MC' into an applicable, sentient sentence.)
no edit
i am giddy and horribly sad at the same time. i hate feeling disposable. doesn't everyone?
fuck it. everything else is grand. that whole situation, the situation which is done now, only stressed me out. now i can stop feeling guilty for thinking about somebody else when i masturbate. ha! i mean, ha. in retrospect, that's an incredibly depressing sentence.
LET US MOVE ON.
i joined the "morale committee" at work to boost my own, i don't know, nonexistant morale. the fact of a "morale committee" existing in the first place causes my cynical soul to curdle. true job morale would mean: i have a job. this touchy-feely feel-good pap causes me much wincing. but i lie a bit. i volunteered to be in charge of valentine's day (ha! the IRONY!) and am quite excited. those valentine mailboxes made from paper bags, possibly decorated, filled with variations of "i choo-choo-choose you"? i'm totally gonna do that. everyone was equally happy about the idea. see, we're all inherent ten-year-olds, just inconveniently jaded. the morale committee (HEREAFTER REFERRED TO AS the MC) is responsible for svengali'ing the holiday parties, etc... lots of potlucks. in the faraway distant future, when we actually get raises again, it's supposed to count towards a raise. i am not holding my breath. meanwhile, who doesn't like free food?
part of this newfound onus involved me annoying everyone at work with my camera, getting candid shots for a bulletin board in the back hallway. someone usurped said camera and took a picture of me.
i was walking through the oppresive grey of pioneer square yesterday, taking pictures, when i stumbled upon this in an alley:
i stood under it, trying to find resolution in the completely crappy lighting, for about 10 minutes. everything about this moment: the bricks, the fire escapes, the radom plants, the red glowing windows of the street-level restaurant (not pictured), the puddles, my own frigid hands in fingerless gloves, was eerily perfect. i tried to send an email to s. my mailbox does not show that it was sent.
these are the instances where i am able to justify my life. perhaps i am destined to be a perennial observer, but goddamn if i don't recognize and appreciate my surroundings.
other good things...
-i start lindy hop in 2 weeks!
-my annual work review was on sunday. it was good. they couldn't think of anything to say other than "exercise more patience." i know. I KNOW.
-my neighborhood bar, at the bottom of my hill, is playing ice-t and making a redolent grilled cheese sandwich for someone else. totally weird: i had "it was a good day" in my head MERE HOURS AGO, apropos of nothing... specifically the line "and none of my friends got shot in south central LA." now, ten hours later, my world is a bit tweaked and this song plays. life!
-the white stripes cover of "the seeker" whilst staring out the window of the 44.
-moroccan mint tea
-a HAWKWIND T-SHIRT at a thrift store. i bought it, i'm wearing it. it is, as the parlance goes, buttery-soft. and lavender.
-a scary guy got off at the same bus stop as i. "who's your pick for the super bowl?" he asked me. we had a very nice conversation as we walked to the corner. i wanted to hug him and say "thank you for 1. proving my paranoia incorrect and 2. being nice to me when you absolutely didn't need to and i really fucking needed it", but i smiled and said "are the saints playing? i like new orleans, so i guess i'd choose them" instead.
-the last class of swing 2, level 3.
-aforementioned freedom of immature bullshit. this is one of those rare situations where i don't come across as the asshole! insert listless "yay". seriously, though, this does make me feel a fuckton better.
*
i am reminded of when j first told me he was leaving alaska, and me. we went to the office lounge and got drunk. he was cold and unsavory. i cried, as i do. i vaguely remember leaving. he followed me down the dark bike trail. i cloudily recall turning around and wishing him a good trip. at the time, i was surprised by myself- surprised that i could want him to have fun and prosper. but i did. i loved him. how could i have not wanted that? i walked the rest of the way home by myself, uncomfortably aware that this (after being in several relationships, one of which involved marriage) was quite possibly the first time in my life i'd truly pushed my ego aside for another person.
humans have to do that sometimes.
*
i did it tonight.
i'm not even mad. i'm relieved. sad. a bit pissed. but mostly relieved.
*
like i said, my mind is a promiscuous place.
*
behold a festering urine culture!
(at this point i try, and fail, to work 'the [aforementioned] MC' into an applicable, sentient sentence.)
no edit
Friday, January 29, 2010
alighting the parallel
wednesday night, m noticed the halo around the moon. we were about two blocks from where i first lived when i moved to seattle in 2002... i never would have thought that nearly 8 years later, i'd be trying to take a picture of the sky from that street. some things just never occur to me as possibilities.
the halo didn't show up, really. i haven't the equipment to capture aureolae.
tonight, 29 jan, is the first moon of the new year, which is apparently called the "wolf moon." today is also its closest orbit to the earth, otherwise known as its perigee. i have learned so much from being able to sloth around my lair in my knickers, sweatily manhandling my iphone!
*
today is grey. this week's medication hit me hard. my whole body hurt and i awoke feeling both sweaty and clammy- a disgusting combination. actually, clammy is always gross. even the word is vile- it sounds like what it is. i walked around seattle center, intending to see where they've torn down most of the rides, but i decided that this would break my heart, so i wandered around the fountain instead. two boys were running through the spray in t-shirts. a lone man played guitar on a bench.
this pleases me. in the summer these trees shade the entire street.
*
i didn't really show too many hawai'i pictures... realized this whilst scanning through today's far less attractive photographs. who wants to see mundane photographs from a sunnier, albeit grouchier era? fuck, it seems like months ago. i'm okay with that.
this is the drunk guy from the first night, the soon-to-be lovemakah. he was trashed. his name was johnny, i think. this was at the first bar we could find... "nashville waikiki." it was actually pretty cool, mostly because it wasn't playing country music. two young things with much hair product were dancing to the eurythmics instead.
the first day at the hostel... bad placement of head in relation to mural.
this was abandoned. i love finding shit like this.
another market in chinatown.
one of the hotel-spelunking elevators. "ooh, infinity!" i remember saying, waving my arm. d is in the background, detached.
you could find a HUGE VALUABLE pearl! only $14.95!
fuck, meerkats are adorable. alas, the little bastard wouldn't turn around.
there is something quite sad about taking one's self-portrait in honolulu. i wanted proof of being in the lovely room i got to enjoy for the last two days.
an artifact of the 'real' honolulu.
i am currently at one of my favorite cafes:
outside the window the sky is dark and rain drips from awnings. and if i look straight ahead, i catch a glimpse of my distorted reflection in a metal toaster. the music is really good. the mate chai is delicious also. this, right this moment, is my tiny slice of the world.
the halo didn't show up, really. i haven't the equipment to capture aureolae.
tonight, 29 jan, is the first moon of the new year, which is apparently called the "wolf moon." today is also its closest orbit to the earth, otherwise known as its perigee. i have learned so much from being able to sloth around my lair in my knickers, sweatily manhandling my iphone!
*
today is grey. this week's medication hit me hard. my whole body hurt and i awoke feeling both sweaty and clammy- a disgusting combination. actually, clammy is always gross. even the word is vile- it sounds like what it is. i walked around seattle center, intending to see where they've torn down most of the rides, but i decided that this would break my heart, so i wandered around the fountain instead. two boys were running through the spray in t-shirts. a lone man played guitar on a bench.
this pleases me. in the summer these trees shade the entire street.
*
i didn't really show too many hawai'i pictures... realized this whilst scanning through today's far less attractive photographs. who wants to see mundane photographs from a sunnier, albeit grouchier era? fuck, it seems like months ago. i'm okay with that.
this is the drunk guy from the first night, the soon-to-be lovemakah. he was trashed. his name was johnny, i think. this was at the first bar we could find... "nashville waikiki." it was actually pretty cool, mostly because it wasn't playing country music. two young things with much hair product were dancing to the eurythmics instead.
the first day at the hostel... bad placement of head in relation to mural.
this was abandoned. i love finding shit like this.
another market in chinatown.
one of the hotel-spelunking elevators. "ooh, infinity!" i remember saying, waving my arm. d is in the background, detached.
you could find a HUGE VALUABLE pearl! only $14.95!
fuck, meerkats are adorable. alas, the little bastard wouldn't turn around.
there is something quite sad about taking one's self-portrait in honolulu. i wanted proof of being in the lovely room i got to enjoy for the last two days.
an artifact of the 'real' honolulu.
i am currently at one of my favorite cafes:
outside the window the sky is dark and rain drips from awnings. and if i look straight ahead, i catch a glimpse of my distorted reflection in a metal toaster. the music is really good. the mate chai is delicious also. this, right this moment, is my tiny slice of the world.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
what can you probably only find in seattle? A GLOW CHAMBER.
these little nuggets tend to seduce me.
today, for example: i got rid of the VW golf. i was only 659 miles shy of seeing the odometer hit 200K, but she wouldn't have lasted that long on my watch. the donation folks came by, jump-started her, and drove her off while i studiously avoided the front window.
trampoline. buddy holly. sunshine. a random bus to a random cafe. somehow i ended up completely across town.
these little nuggets tend to seduce me.
today, for example: i got rid of the VW golf. i was only 659 miles shy of seeing the odometer hit 200K, but she wouldn't have lasted that long on my watch. the donation folks came by, jump-started her, and drove her off while i studiously avoided the front window.
trampoline. buddy holly. sunshine. a random bus to a random cafe. somehow i ended up completely across town.
Friday, January 22, 2010
I drove sweet green back home today. Patrick installed a new battery for me; his neighbor (in the midst of renovating his glass-blowing studio) used his compressor to fill my front tire, and I filled her with 10.3 gallons of petrol. I inserted a beach boys cd and listened to "sloop John b" as we rattled merrily across the aurora bridge. she has insurance and current tabs. I replaced the "make levees not war" sticker in the back window. it is a singular thrill to turn an engine off and know it'll start back up again, a novelty the golf has failed to provide for the last 6 months. by the time I parked her outside my lair my sweater reeked of gasoline and hot engine fumes. I am sure the neighbors are muttering a collective "oh shit, it's back." I kissed the steering wheel before I closed the door.
freedom is a very seductive thing.
freedom is a very seductive thing.
Monday, January 18, 2010
I am in the Honolulu airport, very ready to leave. this voyage has redefined my paranoia that shit, maybe it really is me... even though I see other people behaving badly. even if I don't respect the person, I respect the situation.... it ultimately sucked for me, and I feel terrible that my actions may have caused it to suck for them also. it is very difficult to imagine myself impacting anything around me in a long-lasting manner; I ripple, annoy, and vanish. this mindset allows me to behave much more obnoxiously than I might if I actually thought I mattered to anyone. that sounds pathetic when I reread it, but I'm being honest.
on thé bus here i listened to "another Green world" and tried not to cry.
on thé bus here i listened to "another Green world" and tried not to cry.
Saturday, January 16, 2010
over halfway
...i really am thinking of this voyage in such a manner, almost as an exercise in endurance.
there are, of course, many nice things.
this is from the first day, before i lobstered myself... how halcyon three days ago felt!
today we went to the zoo; it's pretty much across the street from the hostel. it's one of the top 3 in the united states, per multiple placards, and it was pretty awesome. hotter than fuck, and d is one of those people who stands in the background rather than approaching or interacting with anything, but it was worth twelve dollars.
the signs are very respectful of the animals.
it was d's decision to take my picture with the goat. i like goats. they have fun pupils.
i really enjoy this building; i think it's a hotel. it has that air of "let's make the most ingenious, NOW structure we can, circa 1958" quality about it. it belongs on a postcard with scalloped edges, advertising the "tiki steakhouse" and "color television in every room" on the back.
amid all the hellacious floral and disposable dreck of hawai'i proper, one can enhance one's lifestyle.
these fuckers are everywhere. ah, l'america... it's all the same, ocean be damned.
103am: i am currently laying on my nasty hostel cot, sunburn throbbing, listening to d try to exhale a lung through his nostril. i miss the rain. we promised each other to snorkel tomorrow. hopefully i won't menstruate into the ocean and get attacked by a shark.
there are, of course, many nice things.
this is from the first day, before i lobstered myself... how halcyon three days ago felt!
today we went to the zoo; it's pretty much across the street from the hostel. it's one of the top 3 in the united states, per multiple placards, and it was pretty awesome. hotter than fuck, and d is one of those people who stands in the background rather than approaching or interacting with anything, but it was worth twelve dollars.
the signs are very respectful of the animals.
it was d's decision to take my picture with the goat. i like goats. they have fun pupils.
i really enjoy this building; i think it's a hotel. it has that air of "let's make the most ingenious, NOW structure we can, circa 1958" quality about it. it belongs on a postcard with scalloped edges, advertising the "tiki steakhouse" and "color television in every room" on the back.
amid all the hellacious floral and disposable dreck of hawai'i proper, one can enhance one's lifestyle.
these fuckers are everywhere. ah, l'america... it's all the same, ocean be damned.
103am: i am currently laying on my nasty hostel cot, sunburn throbbing, listening to d try to exhale a lung through his nostril. i miss the rain. we promised each other to snorkel tomorrow. hopefully i won't menstruate into the ocean and get attacked by a shark.
Thursday, January 14, 2010
komoniwanna
i started today residually pissed from the night before. i left d sprawled in the room, sleeping (he told me later that he spent part of the night, after i returned to the room and he left, sleeping at the beach and hanging out at denny's, where he was propositioned by a midget prostitute- which i would not have believed if i hadn't seen her already myself) and started to walk. once one exits the plasticity of waikiki, honolulu becomes an actual city with its layers of quirk and filth. i would still never live here, but i appreciate it more.
i walked north for a long while, trying to find a diner i'd seen from the bus the day before. there was no diner to be found. there were very few places to eat in general; i ended up in an odd area of official buildings and acres of manicured flora and the occasional gas station. i walked to the actual downtown of honolulu, which reminds me, oddly, of downtown fairbanks: low-slung buildings with overhanging signs advertizing shops like "pat's teriyaki" and "fashion cabinet." groups of men malingered out front, smoking and looking slovenly. the corporate end of downtown was aflutter with pairs of women carrying bags from ross and long's drugs. (long's drugs! that's where i used to shoplift before they went out of business in alaska and, i thought, everywhere!) store windows contained creepily outdated garb: orange sequin-trimmed prom dresses, dusty vases, fake flowers. they actually sell fake flowers in hawai'i.
*
on the other side of downtown is chinatown, the most authentic one i've ever been to in the sense that 1. i was the only white person, apart from an older couple, that i saw in its 6-block radius (i am often the only white person in any outside-of-waikiki setting. yesterday d and i were on a packed accordion bus and afterwards compared notes. "i saw two others" i said. "no, there was another guy up front" he replied. it's a new enough experience that i notice it. i am ashamed of my insulation.) 2. no one spoke english above the basic fundamentals. 3. products like this, which i have no idea how to comprehend. i think the definition is what throws me off; i imagine "cake" as "something with fairly defined edges."
the hawai'i capitol building is a marvel of bombast. i saw it from afar yesterday before i knew what it was.
this was tonight's sunset from a park north of waikiki that i do not currently recall the name of. the sand was pure white. no seagulls, no insects.
d and i met up later and behaved nicely towards one another. he calls it "hotel spelunking"- strolling into the nice places (of which there are many) to see what the accessibility of their spa amenities are. this is how i have now seen honolulu from the 31st floor of the sheraton and enjoyed a ($7.56!) gin and tonic from their oceanside, tiki torch-lit lanai. there is another lovely place a few blocks from the place we're staying (about 5 hostels are crammed along our block of lemon street- all that's missing is a locking gate at either end) with a pool that he "thinks we could totally get into." i smiled noncommittally.
d is sleeping/snoring in the room; i am back on the stairwell where the internet actually connects. to his credit, he stopped at the drugstore and bought breathe-rite strips and some fucking anti-snore pills, neither of which help at all. (he is too busy snoring to know this yet.)
the idea of being on vacation is finally starting to kick in. i feel mellow. happy. then again, there may be things other than hawai'i contributing to that.
i walked north for a long while, trying to find a diner i'd seen from the bus the day before. there was no diner to be found. there were very few places to eat in general; i ended up in an odd area of official buildings and acres of manicured flora and the occasional gas station. i walked to the actual downtown of honolulu, which reminds me, oddly, of downtown fairbanks: low-slung buildings with overhanging signs advertizing shops like "pat's teriyaki" and "fashion cabinet." groups of men malingered out front, smoking and looking slovenly. the corporate end of downtown was aflutter with pairs of women carrying bags from ross and long's drugs. (long's drugs! that's where i used to shoplift before they went out of business in alaska and, i thought, everywhere!) store windows contained creepily outdated garb: orange sequin-trimmed prom dresses, dusty vases, fake flowers. they actually sell fake flowers in hawai'i.
*
on the other side of downtown is chinatown, the most authentic one i've ever been to in the sense that 1. i was the only white person, apart from an older couple, that i saw in its 6-block radius (i am often the only white person in any outside-of-waikiki setting. yesterday d and i were on a packed accordion bus and afterwards compared notes. "i saw two others" i said. "no, there was another guy up front" he replied. it's a new enough experience that i notice it. i am ashamed of my insulation.) 2. no one spoke english above the basic fundamentals. 3. products like this, which i have no idea how to comprehend. i think the definition is what throws me off; i imagine "cake" as "something with fairly defined edges."
the hawai'i capitol building is a marvel of bombast. i saw it from afar yesterday before i knew what it was.
this was tonight's sunset from a park north of waikiki that i do not currently recall the name of. the sand was pure white. no seagulls, no insects.
d and i met up later and behaved nicely towards one another. he calls it "hotel spelunking"- strolling into the nice places (of which there are many) to see what the accessibility of their spa amenities are. this is how i have now seen honolulu from the 31st floor of the sheraton and enjoyed a ($7.56!) gin and tonic from their oceanside, tiki torch-lit lanai. there is another lovely place a few blocks from the place we're staying (about 5 hostels are crammed along our block of lemon street- all that's missing is a locking gate at either end) with a pool that he "thinks we could totally get into." i smiled noncommittally.
d is sleeping/snoring in the room; i am back on the stairwell where the internet actually connects. to his credit, he stopped at the drugstore and bought breathe-rite strips and some fucking anti-snore pills, neither of which help at all. (he is too busy snoring to know this yet.)
the idea of being on vacation is finally starting to kick in. i feel mellow. happy. then again, there may be things other than hawai'i contributing to that.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
vowels
today was my first full day in honolulu. i am writing this on the stairwell of the hostel, at 120am HST, exiled from the room i am sharing with d so that he can sleep. he snores like i have never heard anyone snore before; it's louder and more disturbing than the garbage truck that idled under the window at 7am. it's a phlegmy, evil sound that he emits even when laying on his chest. the four people in the next room doubtless had trouble sleeping also. my own fucking insomnia, related this time to our residual tension and dread from last week as well as his horrible noise, has allowed me 6 hours of sleep since 9am sunday. i feel exhausted but not tired. but the trip has been an emotional drain thus far. d and i have been sniping at each other a lot. there were many times today when the thought "i don't even like you as a human" crossed my mind. so these photos shall remind me that there was much fantasticness gleaned from today as well... my bitchiness-calibrator.
these trees are everywhere. they are huge, about 50' tall, and the strandy branch-things hang to and sometimes root underground.
i do believe i am the palest person in oahu.
honolulu is embarrassingly picturesque. "what came first, the skyline or the strategically placed palms?" i asked d. as usual, he merely grunted. or perhaps i am less hilarious than i think i am.
i don't really like this town overall, though. waikiki is a fucking shithole, in the way that downtown is nothing but high-rise hotels and sprawling malls and cacophonic gift-shop-including chain restaurants and thumping dance music and cheesy plastic shit and people handing out flyers for the indoor shooting range.
however, the people here, the locals, are amazing... uniformly gregarious, friendly, enthusiastic about their home. the only rude folks i've encountered are the aforementioned tourists... a universal lament.
from the past 24hrs:
-a man fanning warm air from the bus exhaust vent as it pulled away from the curb.
-elderly asian women in orthopedic sandals and ankle socks.
-a group of stoners playing backgammon.
-being bitten by a cockatoo and bleeding for the next five minutes.
-a blue crab scuttling along the outside of the bulkhead at the beach.
-getting splashed by a wave as i was standing in the water and exclaiming, before realizing i was within earshot of several preteen boys, "ooh! that went all up in my business!"
-taking a random bus tonight, by myself, and listening to neil young, then bobby hebb, then gogol bordello. the lights inside the bus make people look dead.
-cigarette butts littering the adjacent rooftop.
-johnny, a falling-down drunk who'll be "fifty next year, bra!", telling about how he's going to make love to his woman for the first time on valentine's day.
-every clerk i've encountered greeting people with "aloha."
-learning about the haitian earthquake from fucking facebook.
-video-screen trivia at an irish pub. other patrons chain-smoked under the "no smoking" signs.
-humidity but no dew.
the climate is stunning. it was about 80 today, cloudless, no breeze. i would get incredibly fucking bored if i had to be in it all the time, but after three months of the seattle sky vomiting its misery down the back of my neck, it's a very pleasant change.
i am that girl.
now i must try to sleep. mind first, then body.
these trees are everywhere. they are huge, about 50' tall, and the strandy branch-things hang to and sometimes root underground.
i do believe i am the palest person in oahu.
honolulu is embarrassingly picturesque. "what came first, the skyline or the strategically placed palms?" i asked d. as usual, he merely grunted. or perhaps i am less hilarious than i think i am.
i don't really like this town overall, though. waikiki is a fucking shithole, in the way that downtown is nothing but high-rise hotels and sprawling malls and cacophonic gift-shop-including chain restaurants and thumping dance music and cheesy plastic shit and people handing out flyers for the indoor shooting range.
however, the people here, the locals, are amazing... uniformly gregarious, friendly, enthusiastic about their home. the only rude folks i've encountered are the aforementioned tourists... a universal lament.
from the past 24hrs:
-a man fanning warm air from the bus exhaust vent as it pulled away from the curb.
-elderly asian women in orthopedic sandals and ankle socks.
-a group of stoners playing backgammon.
-being bitten by a cockatoo and bleeding for the next five minutes.
-a blue crab scuttling along the outside of the bulkhead at the beach.
-getting splashed by a wave as i was standing in the water and exclaiming, before realizing i was within earshot of several preteen boys, "ooh! that went all up in my business!"
-taking a random bus tonight, by myself, and listening to neil young, then bobby hebb, then gogol bordello. the lights inside the bus make people look dead.
-cigarette butts littering the adjacent rooftop.
-johnny, a falling-down drunk who'll be "fifty next year, bra!", telling about how he's going to make love to his woman for the first time on valentine's day.
-every clerk i've encountered greeting people with "aloha."
-learning about the haitian earthquake from fucking facebook.
-video-screen trivia at an irish pub. other patrons chain-smoked under the "no smoking" signs.
-humidity but no dew.
the climate is stunning. it was about 80 today, cloudless, no breeze. i would get incredibly fucking bored if i had to be in it all the time, but after three months of the seattle sky vomiting its misery down the back of my neck, it's a very pleasant change.
i am that girl.
now i must try to sleep. mind first, then body.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Karma. It burns.
This trip is going to be a clusterfuck. D doesn't even know where honolulu is; he thought we were going to Maui "'cause that's in Hawaii, right?" I do not want to share a room with him. It'll be fine; we will both have a good time regardless. I'm just feeling bitchy and disgusted right now. What a spoiled fucking brat I am- and I'm the only one who is paying my own fucking way.
Wednesday, January 06, 2010
Friday, January 01, 2010
from there to here
d has a charming habit of using props to describe damn near everything. a massage technique will be symbolized with sugar packets. if he's giving you directions, a fork will become the road, the salt shaker a house. he will include as many details as there are accoutrements at his disposal. last week, over a plate of particularly delicious fries, he demonstrated the tenets of calculus for me at the deluxe.
new years day 2010. i read an entire book (short stories about the futility of modern male life- it's called "trouble" and i forget the author, but it's mostly quite good) and blared nancy sinatra. she was part of a mix tape that i will never give to the person i made it for. 'tis a pity. it's a really good tape.
the sidewalk was most likely referring to something a titch more carnal, but it eloquently describes how i've felt about things lately.
it's a beautifully grey day. i walked to fremont in the wind. there is a mellow smugness that comes from being utterly un-hungover on new year's day. marvin gaye has replaced the bee gees. my keyboard is covered with glitter.
*
i wish i could fall in love with the people who deserve it.
new years day 2010. i read an entire book (short stories about the futility of modern male life- it's called "trouble" and i forget the author, but it's mostly quite good) and blared nancy sinatra. she was part of a mix tape that i will never give to the person i made it for. 'tis a pity. it's a really good tape.
the sidewalk was most likely referring to something a titch more carnal, but it eloquently describes how i've felt about things lately.
it's a beautifully grey day. i walked to fremont in the wind. there is a mellow smugness that comes from being utterly un-hungover on new year's day. marvin gaye has replaced the bee gees. my keyboard is covered with glitter.
*
i wish i could fall in love with the people who deserve it.
Monday, December 21, 2009
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.
*
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.
*
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.
*
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.
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