I finally saw Lost in Translation yesterday, and I can't stop thinking about it. I went all over Capitol Hill last night trying to buy the soundtrack, and I was so disappointed when I couldn't. I promise never to say another word about Godfather III; Sofia Copolla is incredible. So is Bill Murray's face. And Scarlett Johannsen is just. Wow.
I carried my umbrella this morning. Those of you who don't live in Seattle may not know this, but nobody here carries an umbrella, not ever. To carry an umbrella is to admit that it is raining, and thereby to admit defeat. Only tourists carry them, because we natives love the feeling of icy cold water trickling down our necks. Or so one would assume.
But this morning I, along with most of the rest of the city, caved in and carried one, and those who didn't got soaked to the gills, as my mama would say. I have a beautiful umbrella that my New Orleans friends bought me before I moved--it looks like a banana tree, and it has a bamboo handle. Whenever I carry it, I feel like that scene in Harold and Maude, where Maude is the only yellow umbrella in an ocean of black.
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Those of you who've been reading this journal for a while may find this hard to believe, but I saw the best U.S.E show ever this weekend. Yes, I've seen them over a dozen times. No, it doesn't get better every time. But this time, Birdgyrl had a sushi pre-party, and all--ALL--of our friends were there, and, I'm sorry to sound like a hopeles hippie, but the energy was just so good. Monkey and I were bouncing up and down holding hands for most of the set. It was as close to a religious experience as I'm likely to get these days.
Also, I seem to be seeing someone. So, that's different.
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I would like to dedicate this entry to the beautiful Spanish-speaking couple who sat across from me on the bus this morning, being happy. I'm sorry you had to get off at different stops.
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