Saturday was a day dropped right out of July into March. It was so beautiful that I felt a little bit drunk and teary. (I wasn't though. Not even hungover! I know, it's crazy but it's true.) I spent the morning cleaning the house and talking to my mom on the phone.
Incidentally, I feel sorry for everyone in the world who can't have my parents. Yours may be pretty great and all, but mine are the cutest. Also, apparently my brother is crazy to come and visit me this summer. He just misses the hell out of me. He has never told me this, but my mom swears its true. Maybe my brother and I actually have a really close sibling relationship and I just don't know about it.
Once the house was sparkly I puttered around Capitol Hill for a while and then, what with all the sun and the balminess and everything, I felt the need to make things grow, so I went to a place called Indoor Sun, in the U district, recommended by R.
Now, I kind of expected a place called "Indoor Sun" to be crawling with hemp-wearing, patchouli-scented, laid-back hippies, and the older guy who was working there pretty much fit my stereotype. He had no doubt been to his share of Dead shows in his day.
But the girl working the cash register probably bites hippies in her spare time. She was wearing a lot of makeup and a lot of piercings and she was NOT happy about working in a plant store. I was standing around debating between the mother-in-law fern and a weird-looking succulent when the phone rang, and she answered it: "Indoor Fucking Sun Can I Help You?"
Finally I got everything I wanted, paid for it, and hauled it all out to the car. But I couldn't find the dirt I had bought, which was supposedly in the back somewhere, so I went back in and said to Punk Rock Cashier, "I'm sorry, where is the bag of dirt I bought?"
"You mean the ORGANIC POTTING SOIL?"
"Er. Yeah."
A loud sigh. "It's in the BACK [you retard], behind the second gate."
Ah, Seattle in springtime!
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Saturday night monkey and I went to see Neko Case, Kelly Hogan, and Carolyn Mark. There was a talky-talk storytelling session beforehand, and we sat right up front. We were so close I could have kicked Neko in the shins. (Not that I would do such a thing.) Then, at the actual show, we were right up front again, pressing our bellies against the stage.
I'm guessing that the ladies might have felt a little stalked.
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I spent most of yesterday at the Victrola reading children's novels. (Not hungover again! I'm going to do this more, I swear. Who knew that hydration could be so much fun?)
Last night we went to a candlelight vigil for peace. Although perhaps not the best-behaved vigilers, I think it's safe to say that we had the most fun.
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