Echo

This concert’s really good. The vocalist sounds like Amy Winehouse without the audience having to look at a trainwreck.
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Its true. I spent most of my life feeling out of time, out of place. I was seeking, waiting, wanting some kind of home, some kind of feeling where I could feel a sense of true belonging. In the last few years, I felt like the present finally caught up, and I don’t worry about not finding a specific home. I feel like every moment now is exactly where and when I was meant to be, and I trust that it’s taking me where I’m going. In the last few years, my soul has been peaceful.
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3 years ago, I would have been highly anxious and uncomfortable being at a concert alone. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself. Now its easy because I don’t care. My world is my world.

I type my notes into my phone. Now I email posts to my blog. People always comment whoever I’m talking to it must be one hell of a love affair. I’m always smiling and laughing, or typing intently. Most of the time, I’m just talking to myself.

I’m learning how to BE in this world, as I try to understand it.
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Something people say they find surprising is how shy I am with my feelings. Especially given the rest of my personality.

That’s probably why I’m drawn to shy people. I feel like they would understand how I feel.
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I can’t teleport yet but I have a credit card.
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I’m at the Bonobo show. Opening band, Surrealize, was good. I walked up the stairs and this guy in his 50’s passed me going down. I saw him above me and smiled. He looked away but his hand hid his crotch. I bet he had no idea. It was unconscious. But I see it. I watch these unconscious words and movements of people build a secret language, and it is this langauge I like the most. Only problem is, half the conversations with people, it’s a completely real conversation, but as they move away from it, they start forgetting or believing, the experience fading like dreams.

What can I do. Except keep doing what I do and wait, for someone who can still talk to me and believe in me when dawn breaks into day.
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I’ve been planning to go to the Chemical Bros show at the Hollywood Bowl for a while now. August 29, 2010. Just realized. It’s a 22 day. There hasn’t been one in a while but Aug has 2 of them. The 29th falls on a Sunday. My temple is the Hollywood Bowl. I don’t need to tell you that will be a magical night. Make plans.
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I love this picture of us!

I wanted to go see a Mariners game and took the monorail down to the stadium only to find out the M’s were out of town and it was Motorcross going on. I don’t have an interest in Motorcross, especially when the scalper trying to push a ticket on me was being blatantly obvious about checking out my ass, particularly because we were standing facing each other. I hate men who do that. So I walked around, stopped at the bar that turned out to be the first place I went into my first trip to Seattle, and then walked home. I took the way that would take me through Pike’s Market, stopping at a vendor to buy a small bag of vegetable chips. She asked me if I wanted a bag and I laughed, because it was such a small item, and she kind of looked a happy kind of stunned, then asked me if she’d already asked me that already. I said no. Then she came around to the outside of the booth, leaned in and said, “You have really nice teeth. Your smile…your teeth are incredible. I know that must sound so weird.” She was looking at me like even the wrong twitch in my response might embarrass her, so I smiled and said thank you, and that was a really nice thing to say. And I really meant it. It was really nice of her to say. She seemed relieved, saying, “I didn’t want to seem strange, but I felt I had to tell you that.” It was a nice exchange. It made me feel good, and it probably made her feel good that she took a risk to compliment a stranger, and it was well-received and appreciated. Seattle is thawing with spring.

There is nothing beyond your scope of writing.

That one line could sustain a flight to the moon.

Excerpt from my first trip ever to Seattle:

Arrived at 8pm. Showered, got dressed and asked the taxi driver to take me to wherever is cool on a Friday night. He drops me off in this area where there are a bunch of bars/clubs all within blocks of each other. Apparently, if you buy a $12 cover, it gets you into 12 clubs. So I go to one of them but it’s still early so I spend some time chatting with the bouncer about the city, telling him that I’m thinking about moving here. He tells me that the best thing about seattle is how nice and diverse the people are. I need to eat so he directs me to a pub around the corner that is supposed to have awesome food. I go to that pub (McCoy’s) and it’s a quaint little place that commemorates firemen. The only space in the bar is at the counter so I sit next to an old man who stares at me. Finally, he declares that he wants to buy me a drink and won’t take no for an answer. So I’m ordering my food and he’s talking to me about what he does, etc. He’s really nice and a little bit crazy, like someone’s eccentric uncle, even going to the lengths of taking out his dentures to show them to me. I’m listening to him talk about his life and he’s decided that he shall call me Rosebud and then later, he decides that my name will be Sunshine. And I’m apparently the nicest person he’s ever met. At some point, some guy pressed up against the bar between us to order a drink and the old man tapped him on the shoulder and said, “You need to say excuse me to the Lady.” The guy was confused and I said, “No, it’s not a problem.” But the old man tells the guy he’s got to apologize for invading my personal space or he’ll break his legs. So things are a little tense and the guy moves away and the old man finally gets up and goes home. He wasn’t a bad guy, just lonely, I think.

“I will amuse myself with terror.”
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