I've been neglecting this space for a long time now. I miss my friends, and at this point I'm not sure I could even catch up with what's been going on, so maybe a fresh start is what's in order. A reconnection.

Here's the Reader's Digest version of my life recently:

I've been working at the same small organic gardening company since I moved back to Seattle. My boss, Shannon, understands me on levels that leave me at a loss for words, which is equal parts good and bad.

Last October I met a very cute and charismatic boy named Scout. In February Trash moved here from Chi-town and found me in bed with said cute boy. After a month of tears, joy, communication issues, beer and cigarettes, she broke up with both of us and moved back to Chicago. From what I understand, she's doing well.

In February I got kicked out of the communal living situation that myself and my possibly best friend Kristie and I started last June. Scout and I got ourselves and our three dogs into a cute three bedroom house in South Park of all places.

In the past... month? maybe... we've agreed to be in an open relationship. Scout's been dating someone who also lives in South Park. And I just recently remembered how to get my makeout on.

So that's what going on with me.

How are you guys?

what do you love about seattle? what are your favorite things about the pacific northwest? do you love it? why?

if you were going to show someone how great seattle is, where would you take them, what would you show them?

what are your favorite places and things to do an see?

5/6/06 7:30 am Eastern Standard

I used up far, far too much of the little cash I had left on a car service to the airport in New Jersey. I was just simply in no mood to drag five bags onto the New York subway. Five bag to go seven block to go up two long flights of stairs up to the F train to Herald Square to walk four blocks to Penn Station to take the NJ Transit train to Newark to the AirTrain to the airport to walk to the terminal to the check-in counter. Fuck it I said and $60 gone.

The drive took me through Staten Island just after dawn. It was, like, normal. A real normal place with trees and nice houses. Almost nice enough at that hour, and in that light to make me forget the scab on that rock called Manhattan they all commute to, from. All those suburbs are built up like a shrine to that festering, weather-beaten skeleton of a civilized society that I called home for shy of a year. They melt together into a moat of attempt at relative normality. The skyscrapers though, they started shrinking to my left as we crossed a bridge, then behind me they grew bluer and grayer like they would fade into the morning sky haze completely, but only until they were blocked by those hills of real, nice trees and real nice houses. Soon enough of course, the green deteriorated again and industry won out, eating up whole grids of the earth.

I wondered how I made it so long, so far away from the fertile green valleys and foothills that nurtured me my whole life, wrapped by two mountain ranges like they're trying to protect it, like a secret. Wondered how anything could grow or thrive there it's so contrived. Even New York weeds look weary, beaten down by life. And I thanked god for the protection of the Olympics and the Cascades, like two overprotective parents. I hope East Coasters always keep their indifference toward the West Coast, their lack of curiosity keeps them from visiting. Sometimes they end up in LA. Bless-ed, fucking ugly and dirty, or clean and fake fake fake, giving them a bad impression. Because the longer we keep the gems of the emerald city hidden, the more we can hoard them for ourselves. Sometime it's a beautiful thing to be selfish, if sharing will spoil the spoils. As it were, it would take an army of drag queens with pitchforks just to clear the bodies from Broadway for the Pride parade if every LA twit and San Franciscan fed up with rent rates dropped dead where they stood one day, there are enough transplants clogging Seattle's arteries.

So I sat at the airport alone, something I've done a million times more-often-than-not. I couldn't recall them all, but it makes me feel like I wish I could, something about sitting there surrounded by my carry-ons. It makes me wish I could remember every time I've even done something really just for me, and the way it felt, because I would pile them up like Christmas booty, and unwrap them over and over, little presents, one big gift, a continuous stream of presents to myself.

I'm stopping in Chicago, because I have a sort of home or two there, reluctantly or enthusiastically will regardless take care of me en route home to Seattle. Home to plant my feet in the place my heart never really left, but I'll be a frequent visiter to SeaTac, this I know. I love you Kristie Metcalf, honey I'm coming home, after I finish this cigarette, go through security, chew a dramamine and down a double bloody mary, secure myself an inadequate airline pillow and pass-the-fuck-out for a few hours, nine days and then repeat the ritual, as rituals are meant to be repeated, but I promise, I'm on my way, and we'll build ourselves a little nest, try-as-try-might, a base to fly from and (but) always return to (try-as-try-can.)

Clashes erupt at Poland gay march

STRAIGHT PRIDE!

pictures from kristie's nyc visit A-fucking-HOY!
( kitty & misha at the moma )
( little italy with carlyn )
( meeting the big cinq )
( the metropolitan in williamsburg )
( riding the train & subway )
( uncle scotty's pub )
( the racecar bed slumber party! )
( lucky chang's )
( kitten in a sink! )

today was kristie's last full day in town, and the one day we had planned to pack full of fun.

so of course i spent all day on the couch succumbing to a stomach virus. i had shivers, sweats, feverishness and i was writhing and moaning and puking. all i have left now is a dull headache, a rumbling in my tummy, a pain in my lower abdomen, and a fear of eating too many wheat crackers, too fast.

i think i'll be fine in the morning, thank you for coming to my pity party, please come again anytime.

it was too cold to cry when i woke up alone

i feel summer creepin in and i'm tired of this town again

you never slow down you never grown old

oh my my oh hell yes honey put on that party dress

( pictures like whoa )

so, i realized recently that pretty much the only thing that's stayed the same about me since high school is my unnatural obsession with these:



( + a funny story at the end )

hey kristie

http://seattle.craigslist.org/apa/143427574.html

we'll raise the money to move me home by selling tickets to the nude mud wrestling competition over who gets the master w/ the deck.