until I wilt

-the rocket in beautiful downtown Bellingham.
-thanks, Entropy.
-yon seahorse! genus hippocampus, from the Greek hippos- (horse) and -kampos (sea monster)! now you know.
-a derelict barber shop in Columbia City. first time back in my old neighborhood in 11 months. nothing's changed. it was a weird feeling. I consider the Columbia City era one of the sadder portions of my angsty silly life.
-meanwhile, in a storefront window in Bellingham...
-and there are Ween fans there too!
-inside the blighted building, Bellingham. it was barricaded from the outside and the bar had been vandalized. so I went inside. right after I got this photo a light came down from the top of the stairs. penlight? gun? cyclopsian rat? "sorry! we're leaving! right now!" there are probably a lot of squatters in Bellingham. there certainly seem to be enough vacant buildings that no one's giving a shit about.
-this place also had a sign: "if you don't eat here, who will?" unfortunately they were closed.
-I lied. totally taking pictures of the damn cat.
-again.
-West Seattle. pre-arranged. thank you!
-fennel!

SHIT is an anagram of THIS.

just saw Sherman Alexie and G Willow Wilson at Elliott Bay. after the readings they took questions from the audience. a woman introduced herself as a 5th grade teacher starting a creative writing unit with her students, and do they have any advice to share?
Willow: "write something and finish it. you'll be ahead of 99% of everyone else out there."
Sherman: "write about what you had for breakfast. that totally defines your life."
and it kind of does:

he's driving, I'm riding, pissy drizzle causing the wipers to skip. his hand is on my leg, my hand is on his neck, our unspoken default. he's quieter than usual but I don't notice right away. my sentience doesn't tend to coalesce until I've eaten. I pardon myself this chronic deficit.
we sit at a table in the corner. we each have a wall to stare at, muttering small talk about the aesthetics of the various things on the table.... the salt shaker is perfect, the sugar canister sucks, ketchup used to be much thinner and the impractical bottle shape is purely based on brand recognition. coffee with cream. he takes sweetener, I don't. he leaves behind pats of butter, I avoid the onions. our waiter has tattooed fingers and plugs in his earlobes, and we don't tip him as much as we should have. Marilyn Monroe, skirt flying, smiles down on us. the silence is less, but it's still there. and after breakfast the same problems reinvent themselves, and I get a whole week alone in which to replay it.

-my first Raynaud's of the season.
-wall of fog, parts 1 and 2.
-the forbidden basement of the Rainier Brewery.
-kiwi of love.

man-bait!

-overlooking Pike Place. reflections through glass.
-Capitol Hill.
-the rrrumpus rrrroom (roll them rrrrrs) of an estate sale in Magnolia. the red glow of the Schlitz beer light! it made one's lips vanish!
-the sounds you sleep through... 11th & Pine.
-through the western windows of Pike Place (more reflections)
-filament!
-14th & E John.
-the fog deleted the southern view of downtown.
-4th & Pine.
-Olive Way.

at the aforementioned estate sale I procured a 1968 copy of the "Pillsbury's Main Bake-Off Main Dish Cookbook." it suggests mixing cooked ham, celery, and canned cherry pie filling, then baking it in a voluptuous biscuit ring. it's a "sweet cherry ham bake"!

let's do and say we did.

I have lacked an attention span lately. work? winter? ...but I still have the ability to, say, watch Japanese videos of how to make tomago... this is always a rather vapid time of year for me. I become simultaneously hyperactive and indifferent. it is a struggle to accomplish much of anything.

-small plates at Ciccheti. the beef tartare is in the back. fucking delicious! felt amazing in my mouth! raw meat kind of MELTS. it is a horrific reality if I dwell on it too long- how vile! how ogreish! aren't humans supposed to be all evolved n shit? ...but if I just revel in it, holy CRAP; it is very easy to enjoy. somewhere betwixt these two realities is the formula for a blissful, conscious life, I'm sure of it.
-fog over broadway. I miss the fog. the city was swathed in it for several solid days, morning midday night; it was slightly difficult to breathe. everyone looked pasty in the dull daylight. I couldn't see the tops of the radio towers outside my lair. now it's pissing rain again. it smells better, at least.
-I'm an asshole. I cropped his face for anonymity. this was on the 43. the bus... oh, the bus. I love the bus, except when I fucking despise the bus. this particular day was actually a good one.
-the lair, facing south.
-spinsterhood 101. I'm not home much. when I am, this cat treats me like a queen. it's good for my grey, sodden sense of worth.
-Georgetown.
-stop taking fucking self-portraits of you and your cat. I mean it.
-a painting of the esteemed Kalakala, Fremont Antique Mall! I did not buy it. this echoed my already-established Kalakala-fascination (Kalakalust?), especially since it was painted fairly recently while the thing was still moored in Lake Union. I love how she's at the edge of the picture, like "oh hello Seattle... here I am and here you are."
-tis a rare winter day when I can re-engage the blue study. there are too few buildings in this town that actually embrace and reflect the light. when their glass matches the sky, I try to take a photograph.
-I like this picture because my nose looks fucking weird. we both look strange, actually. we were probably flailing around in a fit of interspecies rapture and deserve to appear warpy.
-blue study 2.
-when I was transferring all the photos off this here phone, I came across this gem of Jethro. I am sure he is living a hedonistic and nurturing life with his new family. he was a foxy little dude.

life is so much simpler than it was a year ago. I am very grateful of that.

and the days are getting longer.

dallying

-toffee, 250 degrees Fahrenheit.
-enraged with public transportation. yesterday: watched the bus I needed pull away from the curb. got in another bus. intercepted bus #1 in time to watch it pull away from the curb. it's funny now, but WASN'T THEN. waited 20 minutes, was late to class, missed returning bus by 2 minutes, next bus was 20 minutes late (I took this picture whilst stomping angrily down 24th NW, mainly to keep warm), bus connecting in downtown pulled away from the curb as I approached. at that point I yelled "god DAMN it!"
-love!
-sexy britches for your mating dance. I don't even understand these. are they for the hindlimbs of a quadruped?
-entropy hung out on my arm (she's standing on her back legs) for about five minutes, purring her little hiney off. fucking weirdo. she's a fun roommate.

"experiencing the possibility of relaxation is a huge part of the process."

year 2, day 1

seven years ago today I left my then-husband and moved back to seattle. it's a good day to be reminded anew of how different things could have been, how much happier I am, how much better things are (I assume) for both of us without each other. since then, whenever I feel morose or lonely or irritated, I remind myself that I have the privilege of experiencing MY OWN problems now. it's still such a novelty, like being bored in Paris! ...and I realize that I always had that. making someone else in any way accountable for my mood or thoughts or actions is so fucking childish and manipulative and disappointing... no wonder I'm twice-divorced. I mean, there were sundry other reasons, but my part was pretty fucking significant. ah, hindsight! so new year's day tends to have refreshing yet loaded overtones. it is, if nothing else, an excellent comparison tool. I AM SO MUCH HAPPIER NOW. so: thank you, thank you, everyone who has been and still is a part of my life. you are a HUGE reason for why I am so fucking contented. 2013 is going to be a very, very good year for all of us. love!

-14th and Olive, today. this is a shitty photo but I wanted to hastily capture the arc of debauchery on this lawn: generic pepto-bismol. 5hr energy shot. Gatorade. plastic cups. nearby was an empty bottle of cheap wine. I didn't see any Dick's packages (or condoms), but I didn't peruse too closely.
-tonight's sunset from the 49, near St Mark's.
-shadowlands, this morning.
-clean-up on aisle 1, QFC, ~11pm last night.
-harassment.
-midnight, new years, Purr. we just ducked in, cheered with the rest of the crowd, and left. they blared "livin' on a prayer" (this is a blurry shot of the accompanying wall of video) and everyone sang along. myself included. those lyrics were knowledge I did not know I possessed! Bon Jovi through cultural osmosis! stay classy, 'Merica.
-why I love Charlie's: everyone who works there is fucking awesome. they serve massive portions of tartar sauce. they are almost always open. they have booths with really tall backs and you can have completely inappropriate conversations there under a guise of anonymity. when my drink contained a huge rubber band they cheerfully replaced it. they play journey nearly every time I'm there. and the stained glass ceiling is absolutely fucking absurd.
-10th & Olive, today. BLUE SKY.
-another party remnant(s), somewhere off 12th.
-last night's sunset from 16th.
-this morning. feeling it. tea.
-tonight, 415pm, from Broadway and Pine.