You know, if I had easy access to a computer at night, this journal would be something entirely other. I always update in the morning, while I'm having my first coffee, and although I probably shouldn't admit it to you, that's when I'm at my best--or at least, my most optimistic and least pensive. You might not like me at midnight.
Anyway. The weather was fucking beautiful this weekend. Danny's barbeque on Saturday was fun, and Brett actually showed up, bless his heart, although I can't say that it seemed like he was having a wonderful time. That man will go unmolested by me from now on, I swear.
There was live music at the bbq. I want to explain to you how funny/sad it was, but I don't think I can do it justice. There were these two guys with acoustic guitars, and they opened with a cover of "Just What I Needed." It was all soft and strummy and folkie and harmonized. And they would stop playing for a few seconds and gaze meaningfully into your eyes and you'd get ready to clap----and they they'd start again. There was also witty banter inbetween songs, a la the scat-singing sisters on Saturday Night Live circa 1987. If I had been sober it might have just been depressing, but as it was I leaned over to my Monkey and said, "Is it me, or is this the most hilariousest thing ever?" She said, "I don't think it's just you."
Yesterday I walked all over downtown trying to find a little black dress to wear in my friend Claire's wedding next month. What seemed like a relatively easy shopping assignment in the beginning has now of course turned into an impossible quest for the Perfect Dress, so naturally I didn't find it. But I did drink a beer in the sun in Pioneer Square and read Einstein's Dreams, which Birdgyrl had lent me. It's a good book to read while you sit in a sidewalk cafe drinking beer, in case you're looking for one.
I also saw about a million examples of what I call (privately, in my head) The Package. (Not that kind of package, you dirty bird.) Even though I deny having a lot of nesting urges right now, the one thing that does tug on my heartstrings is when I see a youngish daddy out on the town with a cute kid, both of them having a great time. I always think, It might be nice to have that little family package. I could do that.
Speaking of which: When I called to wish my mom a happy Mother's Day yesterday, the first thing she said was, "I had a dream last night that you ran off and married some Seattle guy we'd never met, and I was very angry with you!"
I told her that there was no immediate danger of that happening, but she didn't seem totally comforted. Then I started to think maybe it was some weird wish fulfillment dream.
I also talked to my brother, who was visting the parents for the weekend. He said it was 92 degrees down there. When I told him excitedly that it had gotten up to 65 here, he just felt bad for me. "You must be miserable."
I'm not miserable of course, but as much as I love Seattle, I'm not sure I can stay forever. I miss sitting on the porch swing talking, and sweating while my glass of sweet iced tea condenses in my hand. I miss dirty summer feet and lightning bugs and thunder, and how the sky turns green just before a storm.
I can do without these things for quite a while, but not for forever.
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