In which I raid the ‘fridge with possibly dire consequences.
There’s a potluck at work the first Friday of each month, and the left over food tends to sit in the ‘fridge for awhile before people remember to take their Tupperware containers home. This means that if you’re me – and therefore too lazy to walk across the street and buy a sandwich on your lunch hour – you dig through the leftovers and eat stuff that’s many days old.
I didn’t eat anything for breakfast today, so around 1 o’clock I was starving and nuked the rest of the black bean soup. Then, on my lunch hour, I tried to eat some of the thai noodle salad but it was sour and I tossed it out unfinished… but not before eating several bites and trying to decide if it was really off or if I was just being a dork.
So I could be dying right this very minute. Srsly. Because I feel a little funny.
Hopefully I won’t get food poisoning, because that would totally put a wrench in my let’s-go-eat-at-Kelly’s-after-work plans with K!
In which there’s a trip to the Tri-cities.
I went and saw my stylist Saturday afternoon for a cut and color. I said I was doing a lot of gigs this summer and that I needed hair I could scrunch up into curls easily… so bitch chopped all my hair off! I have a totally asymmetrical, VERY SHORT razor bob and I’m still a little weird about it, but Curtis & Syl said it was hawt and teh BF likes it, so I guess it’s okay. Color’s good, at least, even if I don’t have bright enough highlights.
My new hair and I played a brewery Saturday night with the boys. (K’s pics of the event are here, because he’s even more of a cell phone camera whore than I am.) People in Walla Walla talk about the Tri-cities in rather the same way that people in Fairfield talk about Ottumwa, so I was surprised at how awesome the crowd was at Saturday night’s gig in Kennewick (which happens to be the town I was born in). They were enthusiastic, friendly, and they clapped after solos. They danced. They followed us outside during breaks and told us we were awesome. We got an ovation, even. The room sounded good and the vibe was great.
But, being a brewery the place only served beer – which I don’t really drink – so I had Pepsi and water all night and made K take me out for cocktails THE VERY INSTANT we rolled into W2 at 12:30a. He took me to the Stone, where we listened to three adorable twenty-year-old skater boys tell us all about their various broken bones and trips to hospitals. The bartender gave me a glass of merlot because he didn’t have a cork for the bottle and couldn’t save it. We rolled out of there about an hour later and went to K’s, where we stayed up late. Really late. Ahem.
On Sunday, we lazed around a lot and accomplished nothing of interest to anyone but ourselves. Monday, we bought groceries and vodka. K mowed his lawn. I made portabella capellini for dinner – a culinary triumph! – and we ate in the shed because the weather was being almost decent. I crashed at K’s again last night and caught a ride to work with him this morning.
I haven’t seen my own house since Saturday afternoon ’round 4:30, and I feel vaguely guilty about it.
In other news, my dress arrived today! Maybe it’ll warm up enough for me to actually wear it this summer.
In which there are links.
A new Twitter-like site was launched recently. It’s called, for no apparent reason, Plurk. It’s basically Twitter with a cuter GUI, and doesn’t, as far as I can tell, do anything new. I signed up for an account (because I’m a whore and have to try all the new junk on the ‘net) but won’t switch entirely to Plurk until there’s a WordPress plugin for it and/or it proves to be more stable than Twitter.
Feeling conflicted about cheating on Twitter, I started using Ping.fm (per Vuboq‘s advice) to update all my services simultaneously, and now I’m running totally redundant content all over the damn web.
I really hope all this shit is useful to my beloved future AI, who will mine it all to use in personality modeling. (Other people have children or build monuments. My beloved future AI will immortalize me by basing part of itself on all the shit I’ll leave on the ‘net when I die. Blog posts, book lists, tracks listened to, purchases, blah blah blah. I’m so well-documented!) Because there really can’t be any other good use for all this meaningless chatter.
Although I do love reading my friends’ Twitters on my cell phone (when Twitter’s actually working, that is) as I go about my day. Keeps me feeling close to people who live on the other side of the country, or even on other continents, and that’s really the most hopeful application of technology, innit? Community!
In other news, teh BF is still hawt and I’m having way better sex than you. Srsly. WAY better. Like, omfgwtfbbq better it’s freaking ASTONISHING I am so totally not kidding!
In which I’ve returned home! Yay!
The remainder of the Seattle trip was great. I saw an old girlfriend from high school. I stayed up all night for Devi Bhava. I mat an awesome British chick and had breakfast with her and we shared a cab to the airport.
I slept on the plane for a bit, then woke up in time for airline coffee. The flight was half empty so I got a whole seat to myself.
I was picked up at the airport by a so-excited-to-see-me-he-was-practically-vibrating K. He drove me home and went to work. I unpacked my suitcase and then CRASHED OUT HARD.
Got up, showered, dressed, and promptly got whisked away by K when he got off work. We dorked out and talked and fooled around and cuddled all night. It was awesome.
I so missed him.
I had yesterday off. (They scheduled me an extra vacation day for no apparent reason.) I took two naps, had K over for lunch. Last night we went out to Kelly’s and had cocktails and fried food, then went back to the basement and talked and dorked out and… well, yeah. Lots of that. YUM. *waggles eyebrows*
Today I’m back at work. There were only 41 open tickets when I got here, so it must have been fairly slow in my absence. (I get worried when it’s slow at work. I hope I don’t get, like, laid off or something.)
Amma was great. Work is great. I have gigs every weekend all month. Other than the fact that my G’ma thinks I’m a total trollop, my life is great. Yay!
In which I’m at the retreat in Puyallup.
Amped! is the coolest chick EVAR. She came to my motel all on her own volition, she chose a kick ass restaurant in Kent for brunch, she has the cutest baby, and she drove me (and Leela) to our Puyallup motel. I *heart* her, and it was way cool finally meeting her in person after knowing her online for four years. Plus the bitch can knit, let me tell you what. And make beer! And wine! And donuts! And cute children!
The Puyallup motel, on the other hand, leaves things to be desired. First of all, it’s a single – I wanted a double – and, of course, there’s this. Second of all, it’s farther from the program location than I’d wanted, and getting back and forth has been a bit of a hassle.
Yesterday afternoon I took a cab to the retreat because it was raining. (Seven bucks for 1.82 miles. Not bad. Dry, at least.) Arrived at the fairgrounds, followed the signs, registered for the retreat, bought a water bottle – apparently as an American I’m hardwired to respond instinctively to cross merchandising – and stuck it in my bag, then went to the snack shop for chai.
I sat in the hall for awhile and watched the local satsang and the tour staff set up. All that industry, and nothing for me to do. Next event on the retreat schedule? Three and a half hours away.
There’s no smoking inside the fairgrounds. Had to go stand on the corner outside the entrance and watch the traffic roar by. There was a wedding reception in one of the other buildings inside the grounds, and people were coming and going for that. I enjoyed watching Amma devotees in whites and hawt Mexican dudes in boots and tight pants self-sort at the gate.
I went back inside the fairgrounds. Wandered around. Found the food and the bookstore and the bathrooms and learned the general layout. Eventually, I joined the queue. I didn’t really make a decision to do so, I just didn’t have anything else to do.
An hour later I ended up with a good conversation under my belt – I was standing in line next to two first-timers who thanked me for what I’d had to say about Amma and said I should do stand-up comedy for a living – and the lowest darshan token number I’ve ever had in my life: B4. I went inside, put my bag next to the stage, went and ate dinner, hit the bathroom, and was in place half an hour before Mother arrived.
Made it all the way through satsang but had to get up halfway through bhajans and move around a little. I love sitting so close to Mother, but it kinda fries my circuits and I don’t think I’ve ever made it entirely through to arati without at least getting up and moving to the wall. Some years I’ve felt compelled to leave the hall altogether, so I’m getting better.
When darshan started, I went outside for a bit, then had a seven-layer brownie at the snackshop. (I love that coconut/chocolate shit. So teh yum!) When I re-entered the hall She was already at C2, so I packed all my crap into my bag, hid it under the side of the stage, and got in line for darshan. The line was on express and the next thing I knew I was next. I wiped my face to make sure I wouldn’t get oil all over Amma’s clothes, and the woman doing Lap Assist absently stroked the side of my forehead while the couple in front of me finished getting their hugs. There was a space in front of me, the devotee on Lap patted at the floor, I moved my knees, looked up, and my beloved Amma was reaching for me, smiling. I melted into the lap, so ineffably glad to be there after a year of being apart from Her. She murmured “My daughter, my daughter, my daughter” into my ear and my heart tried to break: a crack and a rush like bones breaking, and your chest sore and bright and aching, and you know She’s changed you again. When I sat back and She put my prasad into my hand and smiled at me again, I said, “Oh, Ma!” with my dry voice and She reached for me and hugged me again.
I went to sit to the left of Her chair. Within minutes of leaving the lap, I was stone cold exhausted. It took an hour to get a ride organized and I sat, deeply fatigued, mind utterly silent, watching Mother give hug after hug, being grateful that such beings even bother to remain enough in the world to do such great works.
It’s estimated that Mother has given over 30 million hugs.
This year is not so much about bhakti. I’m meditating a lot, and there’s no work for me to do because this isn’t the Iowa programs and I’m a guest, not a host: it’s all profound depth and silence and a sense almost of isolation, and maybe this is the year I learn to truly love to meditate. I don’t know, but this morning I didn’t even bother to go to the morning program. Leela got up at 5:30 to catch a ride to the yoga class with the chick from Dublin, and I’ve just been hanging out here by myself. I was tired, and The Curse is coming, and it just seemed perfectly fine to be here (I miss at least one entire program every year. It’s how I roll.) even though I’ve wasted utterly precious time I could have spent in the presence of Mother’s body.
I spoke with K for an hour after woke up around eleven, and naturally there was more mind-blowing synchronicity between us. I’m just gonna admit that I’m totally in love (and that if he’s full of shit, I swear I will dismember him and feed his remains to small, vicious fishes) and that he’s adorable and earnest and cute I wish he was here.
After I finish writing I’ll shower and dress and meditate, and keep watch out the window for a ride back to the program hall. I’ve had nothing today but coffee and I need some real food, and, of course, Mother’s going to be there. Plus it’s Q&A tonight!
In which I take the longest bus ride EVAR.
Woke up at K’s this morning. He may have tried to let me sleep in, but he tends to look at me while I’m sleeping [the utter weirdo] and the attention wakes me up. (At least he has the grace to make the coffee.) We lounged around, talked, took showers, dressed, got in the car.
I walked into the airport just as they were announcing my flight. We kissed, he left, I went through security. (This time, they did not go through MY ENTIRE SUITCASE: yay.)
Sat at the gate for awhile. Boarded at 10:50, flew to Seattle. Arrived on time, went downstairs, called my devotee roommate Leela (we met on the Travel Exchange, not IRL). I was at baggage claim 16. She was at baggage claim 1 – of course. So I hoofed halfway across the airport to meet her. Thank God for rolley cases!
After several phone calls we finally found one another and met properly. I pulled out the stuff I’d printed off the ‘net and we discovered we were only fifty yards from the Gray Line bus counter. We got in line to buy tickets, but when we got to the desk a big Russian dude came and said, “If you pay cash, I help you. Come. You pay cash.” We followed him. He took our luggage and walked us to the bus. (Turns out the counter dude hadn’t had a break in six hours and really needed to pee.) The Russian bus driver stowed our luggage and escorted us on board.
Forty minutes later, the bus was full and Leela and I had met another Amma devotee who lives in Mother’s ashram and we were all three having a lovely chat.
Not only does the Gray Line stop constantly, but it doesn’t even go to the Travelodge. We had to catch a commuter to go the rest of the way, and much hilarity ensued as the driver stowed a metric ton of luggage in the ass end of that little short bus. (A woman next to me let out an involuntary groan watching the driver stow suitcases. When I raised an eyebrow at her, she shrugged and said, “There’s three bottles of booze in that suitcase at the bottom.” LOL!) The short bus was fun because everyone chatted and laughed, but fast it was not: we didn’t check into our motel until 3:11.
After check-in, we walked over to Whole Paycheck and ate, and I bought some green plasti-shoes. (I *heart* them. They’re very springy!) We walked over to Seattle Center and found the program hall, but no one was setting up yet. We laid in the grass because the weather is drop-dead gorgeous today. Leela gave a beggar some change; I gave him a cigarette.
We idled back to our motel. I got all comfy on the bed with my laptop. Leela went back out. I chatted with K on the phone because we’re über-dorks who can’t go eight hours without speaking to each other.
The program doesn’t start until 10 tomorrow morning, so I’ve got quite a bit of time on my hands. Am wondering if I care enough to find a pub within walking distance… we seem to be in gaytown (everyone, from the motel desk clerk to the Whole Foods checker to the barrista at Starbucks, not to mention half the boys on the street in this neighborhood, is utterly flaming), so it might be worth going out to find a drink.
Stoked to be in Seattle! Super stoked to see Mother tomorrow!
Oh, and the Flickr set is here.
In which there’s so much going on that it’s totally like there ain’t nothin’ goin’ on. Know what I mean?
I’d like to write something brilliant and witty today.
But I’m not going to, because I’m currently one of those useless, in-a-new-relationship, cheesy, goofy, drippy, self-absorbed peeps who can’t think about anything other than her own condition. (It’s baaaaaaad, my babies. You’re so lucky you’re not a fly on the wall ’round here lately, because you’d get freakin’ diabetes. Srsly.)
On the surface, everything is pretty normal. I work my day job. I eat and sleep and talk on the phone. I could make a laundry list of the things I’ve been doing – work, drive, drink, eat, talk, laugh, cry, cuddle, sleep – but the shit that’s really been going on is intense. We talk all the time, we’re still not getting enough sleep, we eat at odd hours, we’ve been known to kill a bottle of vodka in two sessions, and we’re lucky we haven’t been arrested for smoking naked in his driveway in the middle of the night. (Okay, so we only did that once.) We’re hopelessly geeked on each other and it rawks.
I am completely neglecting my Gramma and my dog. I spend nearly all of my free time at K’s. When I swing through my house, I’m there to shower or pick something up. Gramma’s given me some good-natured shit about the fact that I’m out all the time, but at least in the following breath she allows that I’m “old enough to make [my] own decisions.” It’s SO WEIRD to be only a few months from my 40th birthday and in a living situation that makes me feel vaguely naughty about coming home the morning after to shower and change before work. Hah!
Tomorrow I fly out of ALW at 11:20 AM, off to Seattle to spend five days with Mother. I will eat Indian food and meditate and get darshan and drink chai and spend money at the bookstore and attend the retreat and it will be wonderful.
In which there are totally pictures about the whole thing.
Saturday morning after K dropped me off at home I took a 4-hour nap. He had to roll in to work and I felt a little bad about that, but I just haven’t been getting my usual 8 or 9 hours a night since I started hanging out with him and I had to be on my game for the Dayton gig.
Curtis & Syl came and picked me up around five and the three of us drove to Dayton. After burgers and a few drinks at the bar, we suited up and proceeded to make the music from nine to one. (Pics from the gig are here.*) The gig was fun, but whoa, Nelly! was it ever redneck! I nearly got brained by a couple who were dancing where my mic stand was supposed to be, I picked three cowboy hats up off the floor and handed them back to their owners, and overheard a completely earnest conversation about spurs. And if that weren’t bad enough the band, to keep the drunks on the dance floor, broke into In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida, which scarred me for LIFE. I mean, it’s not like I haven’t done Shotgun Wedding eleventy-hundred times in my career, but In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida?!?
Looking forward to those festival gigs.
Sunday we had a bona fide full band rehearsal for the first time in months. RB recorded it and burned us all practice CDs, so we’ve even got material to work from. Since I still haven’t installed the big hard drive in my laptop, I’ll have to figure out how to get the thing onto my iPod without utterly aggravating myself so I can listen to it during downtime this weekend.
Thursday I’m flying to Seattle for my annual (and much needed) Amma-time. Next Tuesday I expect will be a little surreal for me; I’ll stay up all night for Devi Bhava, get myself from Puyallup back to the airport by nine thirty, and be home by eleven. (K: “Can I pick you up from the airport?”
Me: “On Tuesday?”
K: “Yeah.”
Me: “But you’ll be at work.”
K: “I don’t care.”
Me: “You want to take time off work to pick me up at the airport?”
K: “Yeah. Whatever. Pleeeeeeease?” OMG teh cutez.) Once home I’ll probably drag myself up the stairs, unwind my sari, curl up with my blue dog and sleep all day.
Later today, I’ll be going to the cemetery with my grandmother to do the Memorial Day duties. Later, after doing the wiring at my cousin’s, I think we’re BBQing at his place. The area’s having severe weather warnings, but right now it’s a perfectly gorgeous day.
[* I may have created a monster. In the past three weeks, K’s gone from being a normal human being to having a domain name website he won’t shut up about and carrying a super sweet tricked out cell phone he uses to Twitter and Flickr from. (Sound like anyone else you know? I swear, I’m dating the male version of myself.) (I’ve always suspected I was conceited, but I may have outdone myself this time. Promise you’ll kill me if I threaten to take up golf, though. Pinky swear!)]
In which the dork-o-thon continues, in all its kick-ass glory.
We have this habit of parking on this particular overlook out on a gravel road somewhere and having Deep Conversations. Like, ass-kickingly, blown, insane, emotional, silly, soul-baringly deep Deep Conversations.
I’ve got it so bad, bitches.
Yesterday I spoke with three stone-cold argumentative bitches in a row and got a little aggro, so I talked K into taking me to Oregon after work so we could drink and smoke and eat fried foods all at the same time. Someone won at Keno and bought us a final round we really didn’t need on a school night, but eventually we got out of there and went and parked in what has become our freak-out spot.
Once there we proceeded to do what we do, which is talk at an incredibly rapid and efficient pace about ourselves and each other and past damage and definitions of what health might be, all the while cuddling and crying and laughing and yelling and whispering and carrying on, and even occasionally peeing next to the car in the dark.
I’ve got it so bad, bitches.
I was in bed by half past midnight. I slept like a rock. This morning I didn’t get out of bed until twenty-two past, but somehow managed to shower and dress and walk to work with two minutes to spare.
Right now I’m eating nuked Michelina’s fettuccini alfredo at my desk, listening to K miraculously keep his cool in the 112th minute of the WORLD’S LONGEST DIAL-UP SETUP CALL, EVAR. (The poor fucker. I never-ever-never want to support whoever it is that he’s talking to, because not only should setup even with neophytes always take fewer than ten minutes, but because only morons think they’re gonna start a new career in day trading over a fucking dial-up connection!!!) Hopefully my phone will start ringing soon, because once I’m done eating I’ll have nothing to do if it doesn’t.
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4 random books from my Library!
