concert on a school night

I'm at the Rebel Lounge for Wendy's birthday outing. A band named Shonen Knife is playing. I left later than everyone and yet I'm here before them. The crowd is in mostly black and I am wearing a yellow dress shirt with black cats printed on it. A few people have said they like my shirt. I feel accepted. 

travels

It's Sunday. I have to work tomorrow. I'm lying on the couch while my weekly supply of pinto beans simmer in the crock pot. My clothes are hanging on the clothesline, in the rain. I'm sure the rain will stop soon. I'm also cooking some rice in the rice maker. Together, the rice and beans make a complete protein. I like them, and they're simple. And cheap. 

Last Saturday, I drove to Colorado to visit my dogs. It took about 13 hours. Stayed with a friend from work. Went hiking too. I saw deer, bison, and two moose. On the way back I stopped in New Mexico to visit my friend Josh. He's got an art studio, and he and his wife Maja also built a cool little artist residence. The current resident was a writer, Sarah, from Yellowknife (Canada!) where the Aurora Borealis shines 240 nights a year. I drove home on Thursday so I could see Tron: Ares with my sister and the nephews. I also applied for my passport on Friday. Mine had expired long ago so I had to apply like it was the first time. 

I wonder where I should go next. 

Up late

Technically. It's about an hour later than I meant to be up. I've got a collection of short stories to listen to while I drift off to sleep. I thought I'd say something. 

Goodnight!

anniversary

Anniversaries are important for humans. We grow in rings, like trees, I think. Mostly. I suppose there could be some people who would rather molt; shed their hard exoskeletons and are soft and vulnerable for a little while until they harden up. Maybe. That seems less likely. 

Anniversaries are important because they let us look forward and back. Like standing in between two mirrors. 

See, that sounds closer to what I'm thinking but still not quite right. Hmm.

I've been dreaming of cities. Vast, beautiful, cities. I walk their streets and listen to my footsteps. The cities are empty. I hear birds sometimes, and there are trees and grass and other living things, but no other people. It's peaceful. It feels like a garden but instead of flowers, someone planted buildings. It's daytime, always. I would hum to myself. I remember wondering if I'd ever hear my favorite songs again. The first couple times at least. It's the nature of dreams the we accept the premise, at first. As dreams repeat, I begin to recognize them and can bend the rules. I'm not afraid of the empty cities. I'm not looking for anyone, and I don't think anyone is looking for me. The cities are still a mystery, but I'm not too worried about it anymore. 

Today would have been an anniversary but now it isn't. My calendar still reminded me because I didn't think to turn it off. 

I'll probably not change it yet. Nights and days measure the passing of time and maybe that's just not personal enough. The anniversaries are my own. 

I'm sleepy now. Time to go walk in some cities. 

Vacation Days!

 I've got a week off from work because apparently I've been working mostly non-stop. I've accrued a great deal of vacation time this year. I wonder if maybe I've been going through emotional turmoil so I've been pouring myself into my work. I don't think that's it exactly. More like there's no pattern to my life and I've been defaulting to the only one. Not very original of me...so I'm gonna do something about it. 

Not sure what exactly yet, but definitely something. 

When I'm at work (and I'm sure this is not an experience exclusive to me), I think of all the things that I could be accomplishing INSTEAD if I just weren't at my job. The peat bog of my mind spits up small and large projects, perfectly preserved bog bodies of productivity, where they stare grimly at me. 

I imagine this dynamic version of myself that I could be, accomplishing great things, if only I weren't sitting at my desk making money for someone else.

And then when I get home, I am drained, forgetful, unmotivated, complacent. I suspect this is a feature of life, and not a bug. 

SO I MADE A LIST!

When I was at work last week, and the Ghosts of Unrequited Tasks floated down hallways and rattled the windows, I wrote them down. I have them, for now, trapped. Today, I woke up and told my brain I was going to work just like normal. (Brains, by themselves, are not intelligent. I forget that all the time. Our minds like to follow the most often-trod paths of the exotic jungle of the Self, and if you can just get them started on something, it's much easier to nudge them onto a byway, down alleys and up aqueducts, all the unexplored regions. 

That's how it is for me now, anyway. I used to be crazy, which was a kind of superpower because I required absolutely no logical reason for doing any given thing, other than it might be interesting.

I've become far too practical in my old age. For me, I mean. 

Writing was not on the official list, but I've been meaning to do that too. Maybe try for another Scary Short Stories October. That was fun and with this week off I could get ahead of it. 

Oh yeah, this is all coming together. 

ocean sounds

Last night, I kept waking up and hearing the ocean. It's a tricky thing, because I'm not sure if I was really hearing the ocean or only dreaming that I was hearing the ocean while I was in that middle space betwixt sleep and wake. It wasn't unpleasant; I like the sound of the ocean. I just kept getting stuck in this loop of thinking "that sounds like the ocean am I at the ocean I shouldn't be at the ocean it was raining last night maybe it's the rain that sounds like ocean zzzz" and then I'm lulled back to full sleep by the soothing ocean sounds. 

When I woke up, I inspected my fan. (I sleep with a fan on.) Nothing unusual. 

There was an unusual amount of sand on the floor, though. 

Weather Alert

A half an hour before sunset today, I felt restless..A slight melancholy had been settling upon me, like a veil made of chiffon and spiderweb. A crack of thunder shattered the stillness and rattled the windows of the house. A monsoon storm was upon us. The lightning flashed and rent the sky and the rain pummeled the earth. "Perfect," I thought, and I grabbed my keys and rode out into the storm. 

I turned up the music and drove.