---- I've decided that I'm going to start an "Inventory Item of the Moment" catalog that will highlight a given thing/person/interaction that I am currently taking inventory of. And by inventory, I mean judgement. -----
Since I didn't make it to Burning Man this year, I view this post as a vehicle for 'letting it go' so that my catwalk-about is not tainted by the day to day irksomes of life.
#1.
My Midwestern (no offense) Middle Aged (no offense) Heavy Heel Walker Upstairs Neighbors:
I hate how you stomp and I will not miss your stomping stomps. Learn how to walk lighter or eat less. I am glad I will not hear you stomping for 4 months. Sorry Masha.
Thank you.
Saturday, September 27, 2008
It really is ironic...
...how you need a god damned Leatherman army knife to open the plastic bulletproof tomb that enshrouds the Leatherman army knife.
@#$%^^%$$#@#
@#$%^^%$$#@#
Saturday, t minus 4
Am freaking out a tad w all the things I still need to do for the trip. I mean, things have gotten done...but the list is growing at the same time it's shrinking. Net movement: nill.
Full disclosure: I did CHOOSE to just organize my jewelry area and dust and clean all that right now. Not necessarily urgent but it's all related to this Reverse Nesting Syndrome - when you clean the hell outta your place before leaving it for 4 months. What is that???
Kent in is in the hospital and this has been very hard, sad and emotional for every single person who knows him and loves him. I won't go into the details here because they are his to share, not mine - but suffice it to say I don't want to be leaving Seattle when one of my best friends and one of The Best People (a race of superkind humans) is in the hospital. I'm sure he'll be out soon and healthy, but until I see him do a midwestern Homecoming cheer on his patio again a la Spartans .... well, I am considering pushing my departure back a few days. We'll see.
If I arrive on the 2nd as planned, I plan to go to Byron's Bay immediately and hang out on the beach for 1 week, then go back to Sydney for Kristen's bday on the 7th. I'll chill in Sydney for a week and then head to New Zealand with Kristen for a 4 day weekend of wine tasting and Kiwis. Neat.
Full disclosure: I did CHOOSE to just organize my jewelry area and dust and clean all that right now. Not necessarily urgent but it's all related to this Reverse Nesting Syndrome - when you clean the hell outta your place before leaving it for 4 months. What is that???
Kent in is in the hospital and this has been very hard, sad and emotional for every single person who knows him and loves him. I won't go into the details here because they are his to share, not mine - but suffice it to say I don't want to be leaving Seattle when one of my best friends and one of The Best People (a race of superkind humans) is in the hospital. I'm sure he'll be out soon and healthy, but until I see him do a midwestern Homecoming cheer on his patio again a la Spartans .... well, I am considering pushing my departure back a few days. We'll see.
If I arrive on the 2nd as planned, I plan to go to Byron's Bay immediately and hang out on the beach for 1 week, then go back to Sydney for Kristen's bday on the 7th. I'll chill in Sydney for a week and then head to New Zealand with Kristen for a 4 day weekend of wine tasting and Kiwis. Neat.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Blogstalgic
It's cool being back on a blog, my own little world of words. They're consistently whizzing around my head, always, and I think I've forgotten or chosen to ignore how nice it is to write things down.
There was a time about 3 years ago where I was writing a lot, writing because I had to because a lot of things sucked at once and my life was not so much falling apart, but molting and morphing. The existence of my blog back then allowed me to step up and out of the heavy shit and put on observer goggles, witty lenses, somehow access to a lighter and more immediate perspective. I wanted to be on a sitcom, out of my own skin, in a pretend world every now and again. That place where the words were kept was it.
Now it's different. Not totally sure how yet since this is just getting going. But this place is definitely not escapist. We'll see how it goes...
http://catcall.blogspot.com/
There was a time about 3 years ago where I was writing a lot, writing because I had to because a lot of things sucked at once and my life was not so much falling apart, but molting and morphing. The existence of my blog back then allowed me to step up and out of the heavy shit and put on observer goggles, witty lenses, somehow access to a lighter and more immediate perspective. I wanted to be on a sitcom, out of my own skin, in a pretend world every now and again. That place where the words were kept was it.
Now it's different. Not totally sure how yet since this is just getting going. But this place is definitely not escapist. We'll see how it goes...
http://catcall.blogspot.com/
Monday, September 22, 2008
Countdown
It's the Monday of the last full week that I'll be here in town before heading to Australia. I can't believe it. I'm in some odd in between state of what I'll call After the Storm and Before the Walk.
After the Storm took place over the last ~ 2 weeks:
- 5 vaccinations/shots that made me hallucinate and be horribly depressed in that crying in the shower kind of way that is comical after it passes but is downright and profoundly dark when you're in it. But hey, if you've got cooties, c'mon and sit near me because your germs will die when they meet my vinegar like blood. [heads up mosquitos in africa: I am scared of you but you WILL die if you even think of biting me. Wassup.]
- 3 Lasik doctors offices were visited where every single one of them dilated my eyes, allowing the sun to pour in and singe my brain with it's UVA/B rays, those assholes. I suppose I should mention I forgot to bring sunglasses and they reminded me 12 times. Fine, I take back the asshole comment.
- 2 eyeballs cut open w lasers and 20/20 vision miraculously implanted. Laying there with an eye speculum spreader thing knowing a blade was slicing open the jelly part of my eye was one of those things that tested my ability to pull off a little mind-bend control trick on myself.
- 1 kitchen, 1 bedroom and 1 closet all gutted, reorganized and cleaned. I am a horrible housekeeper and organizer, but make up for it with deadline driven frenzies and cupcakes.
- 8 bags of shit schlepped from condo full of kitchen, bedroom and closet debris to goodwill. Should have resold it or ebayed it or similar, but just couldn't bear to look inside those black Hefty garbage bags one more time.
- dozens of phone calls and emails with all of the annoying and official entities in life: car insurance, health insurance, travel insurance, refi guy for house, etc etc. This portion of my last few weeks made me realize that if I was a rich rock star (someday dammit), my greatest extravagance would not be on a JayZ/Beyonce yacht, a chef or a stylist. It would be one fucking personal assistant so that I never have to respell my last name, SS# and mobile number into a computer system 4 times sideways ONLY to be asked for that very same info by the human I end up (maybe) talking to. W.T.F.
After the Storm took place over the last ~ 2 weeks:
- 5 vaccinations/shots that made me hallucinate and be horribly depressed in that crying in the shower kind of way that is comical after it passes but is downright and profoundly dark when you're in it. But hey, if you've got cooties, c'mon and sit near me because your germs will die when they meet my vinegar like blood. [heads up mosquitos in africa: I am scared of you but you WILL die if you even think of biting me. Wassup.]
- 3 Lasik doctors offices were visited where every single one of them dilated my eyes, allowing the sun to pour in and singe my brain with it's UVA/B rays, those assholes. I suppose I should mention I forgot to bring sunglasses and they reminded me 12 times. Fine, I take back the asshole comment.
- 2 eyeballs cut open w lasers and 20/20 vision miraculously implanted. Laying there with an eye speculum spreader thing knowing a blade was slicing open the jelly part of my eye was one of those things that tested my ability to pull off a little mind-bend control trick on myself.
- 1 kitchen, 1 bedroom and 1 closet all gutted, reorganized and cleaned. I am a horrible housekeeper and organizer, but make up for it with deadline driven frenzies and cupcakes.
- 8 bags of shit schlepped from condo full of kitchen, bedroom and closet debris to goodwill. Should have resold it or ebayed it or similar, but just couldn't bear to look inside those black Hefty garbage bags one more time.
- dozens of phone calls and emails with all of the annoying and official entities in life: car insurance, health insurance, travel insurance, refi guy for house, etc etc. This portion of my last few weeks made me realize that if I was a rich rock star (someday dammit), my greatest extravagance would not be on a JayZ/Beyonce yacht, a chef or a stylist. It would be one fucking personal assistant so that I never have to respell my last name, SS# and mobile number into a computer system 4 times sideways ONLY to be asked for that very same info by the human I end up (maybe) talking to. W.T.F.
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