the dr. and i got back from seattle yesterday and as we stepped out the doors of SFO into a cool breeze i was certainly glad to be home. seeing josh and buckley was great. seeing seattle was interesting as i tried, once again, to pin point the soul of the city. sitting in chris nelson’s back yard at 2AM talking about groupons in relation to escorts and what alien fellatio would sound like was priceless.

3:00 AM, food is no longer open. thanks seattle for dashing all my $2 soup from the liquor store dreams.

i felt all over the place this weekend. it felt good to be out of sf. it felt good to be traveling with the dr. it felt good to see josh. the heat was stifling and sometimes downright awful. i couldn’t escape dog hair if i tried. on the verge of my period i wanted to consume every french fry in the state of washington. it was too hot to be cranky though so i felt like i got quiet at times simply because i couldn’t figure out what was going on in my body. wrong shoe choices led me to $6 compeed bandages from walgreens and $16 flip flops from pike fit. the random athletic shoe store near josh’s on capitol hill had one pair of non-leather flip flops and they only came in pink. i’ll take them sir as my shoe is filling up with blood.

i feel like the older i get the more i enjoy sitting around in the shade eating and that makes me sad.

on the ferry back from bainbridge island i researched public pools to visit before coming to the realization that it was 7PM on a sunday and nothing would be open. it was just as well. after our trek back to capitol hill, laying in front of the fan with buckly, my boyfriend and the bff, listening to music felt like the most perfect thing to do after a long day in which i rode a ferry, perspired a river, and ate some grilled zucchini. my womb did not quite capsize but it did remind me of certain doom that would be arriving soon. if it had an evil laugh it would sound a lot like vincent price.

i held the dr’s hand on the plane ride home and figured he would probably want to go home and have alone time. i wanted to curl up into his smelly armpit and rest. i struggled for all of ten minutes before asking him if he wanted to be alone or not. without hesitation he noted i could come over if i wanted to and i then felt free to relax and realize that we’ve come pretty far and i still feel my heart squeeze when he winks at me from across a room.

that feeling is home. diving into the poof chair face first is home. leaning into him on the couch is home. crying during the ‘work of art’ finale is home. sleepy dresses and home cooked meals and being the inside of the spoon.


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August 2010
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