I continue to be totally and completely amazed. Daily. All sitting on the edge of my chair, all starting sentences with "all" and "and", all writing for almost an hour to start my day in what is quite possibly the greatest coffee shop known to anyone.
Last night I drove around by myself for the first time, down to the station to go to orientation for the BBQ this Saturday. Jon and I will be setting up fence at 6 am, which blows, but a free pass to come back to see the Helio Sequence and Joseph Arthur isn't too bad at all. I can't say I mind. All (there it is again) sunrise with the top down, needle and sweeping cityscape, work and reward, maybe some naps in the sunshine. Then movies under the needle in the nighttime, and Rocky Horror Picture Show if I can manage to stay awake for it.
And that's just one day. One. A regular Saturday.
And the rest of my day yesterday was grand, before orientation it was pizza with Janet and Deb and Deb's daughter, and I was excited to see them, and they were excited to see me, and I was excited that they were excited, and Izzy played with pizza dough. And afterwards, Kristin didn't see my text, so I kept driving for a while - all down Broadway, down and around, up Aloha, up to what seemed like the plateau up on top of the hill, and back down again. There was a pretty spot with needle and sunset Kristin took me to on the scooter, and I knew it was closer to downtown based off of the needle in the frame, and then I shot down a main drag towards the other end of 10th and came to Harvard. And it was all houses on the left and open on the right, a low metal kind of fence that wouldn't keep you from jumping over and a highway underneath. And past that, all pieces of the edge of a city, all houses stacked up on the hill, shiny grey bridge and sunset over mountains. It was great. I didn't know if it would be okay to park, so I cut around another couple of streets and picked Boston to go down, because Boston made it seem okay, and then when I went right onto Harvard with the open sky on my left this time, I discovered it was alright to park. I turned up the music and shut off the car and sat there, head resting on my arms, watching the Earth turn, all pinks and oranges reflected up in the patches of clouds, cartoon sunbeams shooting out. And it was perfect, and I was happy, and I cried, the second half of a first side of a mix tape ringing out over the noise of the traffic below, and it was all perfect.
Hi. I live here.
The concept of interacting with a Boy, or anyone for that matter, on an open processing plane is comforting, staggering, intimidating, and all kinds of good all at once. So many times, in so many ways, I've forgotten how to make friends, and focused on how I thought I wanted to sound when I met someone (pants-off potential or not) and if that wasn't the case, I was in old familiar ways and places and I didn't have to think about how I really felt or what I wanted to say, because I was already in the middle of comfortable things, things that came with opinions and set-up scenery... and now, I get to see what I'm made of. I get to remember why I feel certain ways, and why I don't, and how I came to those conclusions, and where I'm right, and where I'm wrong. Talk about putting my recovery in a suitcase and taking it with me. It's a whole different ballgame in a whole different ballpark, like, the bat and the ball and the bases are all there - but all of a sudden I'm in China or something. Same movements, new languages, and an inherent simplicity that you can't get when everything has gotten too familiar.
Seattle is big, in a nice way. Big enough to get lost and stay new and not run out of things to do and to see. Not so big that it freaks me out.
Today I'm actually going to apply for a few jobs, I've gotten registered with UW already, and I'm going to hook up with a few temp agencies too so that I can have a good amount of options. The question of actually having a tough time finding a job has not plagued me, it's just where and when I'll wind up at one. I'm putting some pretty lofty manifestations out into the Universe, like a comfortable environment, good pay, and a pretty commute that has nothing to do with the horror stories of the highways I've been told so far.
I wish I had my headphones, although I like being conscious and hearing what's around me.
Between morning pages and this, I think I'm out of words. Time to get to work, or something kind of like it.
Bon Courage,
Penny