Ground Control to Major Tom
Bleh.
A pint of fried rice bleh.
Today:
last day of work at Cyber Dogs.
Said good-bye to Giselle, since I won't work with her anymore. She was surprised when I hugged her. I wished her a happy life, then wore the daisy she left behind in my hair.
Had fried rice on the couch with Web and Jennifer with too much soy sauce and sweet and sour sauce for dinner. We all piled on the couch, passed sodas around, and listened to mp3s of the band we're going to hear tonight. Some Gypsy Punk band named Gogul. As I passed Web a soda and he handed me my rice and Jennifer reached over us for the sweet and sour sauce, I realized we'd all settled into a routine. We were real roomates, or even family members. :)
Naw-Sir took Jennifer, Web, and me to the Gas Works Park over by Lake Union. It used to be a real oil
refinery, but when it closed, the city made it into a park. You can even walk around the section where
they refine air and oil into natural gas. There was a picnic area near that, and Naw-Sir and I watched
a huge picnic down below us. There were blue-and-white checked picnic blankets on picnic tables, kids
and babies running around screaming and playing, adults eating all sorts of picnic foods, and two guys playing bluegrass on fiddles. The scene made me homesick for the Walnut Valley Festival for a minute,
but then I realized this type of scene is no longer only relevant to the Midwest. Then I didn't know
whether to be happy or sad. It's like the big cities take anything unique or special about the tiny
in-between places scattered around the country as soon as they can, then claim them as their own.
Wandering around with Naw-Sir wasn't as panic-inducing as it has been in the past. We walked to the
top of a hill in Gas Works Park where people were flying kites and lying in the grass and talked about
how taking pictures of people who don't know they're being photographed is best. He told me about one
of his favorite thrift stores--it's a senior center somewhere in town, run by the residents themselves. "Sometimes they're really grouchy, like you're disturbing their day," he said. "It's really cute." The first time I met Naw-Sir, we were both (and Web and Jennifer) strung out on some "chemicals." (Note: I don't like those and not doing them again), and what I'm slowly learning is a real, calm presence isn't ultra-smooth playa game. Anyway, I'm starting to trust him. I keep reminding myself, I hated Seattle Jon when I met him. Now I adore him. I loved Samuel when I met him. Now he's too strung out on crack to get any more of my compassion. I used to hate Jennifer. Now, I want to adopt her.
What's frustrating is that I used to rely on these senses--these instincts that tell me who is OK and who isn't. And they don't work anymore. I have to assume Web doesn't hate me all the time. I have to just say to myself I"m friends with people here. Where is that sense of peace and presence that comes with true friends? I only feel comfortable completely with maybe two or three people here--Morgan, Ananda, and Jennifer. I project too much about Web and have so many burns and scars I don't even try to feel comffortable around him any more. The point is:
if God gave me this abundance of stupid empathetic listener shit, and all these feelings and this way to articulate them, can't they at least be RIGHT sometimes?
GRR!
A pint of fried rice bleh.
Today:
last day of work at Cyber Dogs.
Said good-bye to Giselle, since I won't work with her anymore. She was surprised when I hugged her. I wished her a happy life, then wore the daisy she left behind in my hair.
Had fried rice on the couch with Web and Jennifer with too much soy sauce and sweet and sour sauce for dinner. We all piled on the couch, passed sodas around, and listened to mp3s of the band we're going to hear tonight. Some Gypsy Punk band named Gogul. As I passed Web a soda and he handed me my rice and Jennifer reached over us for the sweet and sour sauce, I realized we'd all settled into a routine. We were real roomates, or even family members. :)
Naw-Sir took Jennifer, Web, and me to the Gas Works Park over by Lake Union. It used to be a real oil
refinery, but when it closed, the city made it into a park. You can even walk around the section where
they refine air and oil into natural gas. There was a picnic area near that, and Naw-Sir and I watched
a huge picnic down below us. There were blue-and-white checked picnic blankets on picnic tables, kids
and babies running around screaming and playing, adults eating all sorts of picnic foods, and two guys playing bluegrass on fiddles. The scene made me homesick for the Walnut Valley Festival for a minute,
but then I realized this type of scene is no longer only relevant to the Midwest. Then I didn't know
whether to be happy or sad. It's like the big cities take anything unique or special about the tiny
in-between places scattered around the country as soon as they can, then claim them as their own.
Wandering around with Naw-Sir wasn't as panic-inducing as it has been in the past. We walked to the
top of a hill in Gas Works Park where people were flying kites and lying in the grass and talked about
how taking pictures of people who don't know they're being photographed is best. He told me about one
of his favorite thrift stores--it's a senior center somewhere in town, run by the residents themselves. "Sometimes they're really grouchy, like you're disturbing their day," he said. "It's really cute." The first time I met Naw-Sir, we were both (and Web and Jennifer) strung out on some "chemicals." (Note: I don't like those and not doing them again), and what I'm slowly learning is a real, calm presence isn't ultra-smooth playa game. Anyway, I'm starting to trust him. I keep reminding myself, I hated Seattle Jon when I met him. Now I adore him. I loved Samuel when I met him. Now he's too strung out on crack to get any more of my compassion. I used to hate Jennifer. Now, I want to adopt her.
What's frustrating is that I used to rely on these senses--these instincts that tell me who is OK and who isn't. And they don't work anymore. I have to assume Web doesn't hate me all the time. I have to just say to myself I"m friends with people here. Where is that sense of peace and presence that comes with true friends? I only feel comfortable completely with maybe two or three people here--Morgan, Ananda, and Jennifer. I project too much about Web and have so many burns and scars I don't even try to feel comffortable around him any more. The point is:
if God gave me this abundance of stupid empathetic listener shit, and all these feelings and this way to articulate them, can't they at least be RIGHT sometimes?
GRR!