a scare

So a creeper followed me off the bus the other night. It wasn't super late--9.30pm. I'd had a fun night of happy hour and pop-up Please Maid Cafe and was on my way home, on a bus I don't ride too often but which stops at a quiet corner near my place. So I exited, and he did too, wearing a surgical mask and ballcap and weirdly large coat. Realizing it was just him and me on a quiet dark street, I got a bad feeling, and waited at the bus stop to see where he'd go. When he lingered, and then came back to the stop, approaching me, I told him to get going, go away.
Upon which he said quietly, Don't lose your life to me.
Upon which I lit out for home.
That's right, run he called. I didn't look back until I was past my apartment building.
*
Yeah I was shaken up, unsure whether this was malevolence or mental illness or something in between. In the moment, it didn't matter. I listened to my gut and got the hell out of there. I talked to an SPD officer yesterday and he admitted there wasn't much the cops could do, or could have done had I called 911. It's not a crime to say dumb shit. It's not a crime to be a weirdo rolling around in a surgical mask. The reality is we all have to keep an eye out and listen to our guts.
And, I'm glad I'm okay but I am so sick and tired of dealing with harassment. Would this wack job have approached a lone male? Watch the "Master of None" episode called "Ladies and Gentlemen." Women know. But until a guy says it--and honestly, probably until a white guy says it--no one's really going to listen. And until Seattle starts dealing with its homeless/mental illness problem--Man in Tree anyone?--nothing's going to change.

a balm for a weary soul

On such a terrible news day, I spent some time looking at abstract art.
We must find calm, courage, and peace, somehow.

it's alive

So we had diversity training at work this week.
Four hours of sitting in a stuffy conference room with co-workers watching a Powerpoint show and participating in interactive exercises. Sound like a recipe for eyeball-numbing boredom? It was actually interesting and entertaining and sort of fun.
Except. EXCEPT.
Except for the small-minded bigots (I witnessed two, possibly three) who sat sullenly, arms crossed, non-participating, combative when spoken to, for the entire four hours.
Sexism is alive and well; as a female I can vouch for that, and this session was no exception.
Racism, homophobia and all their neanderthal cousins seem to survive as well.
This isn't a huge surprise, given the political climate now, but still, shocking to witness it in person.
From adults.
From educated humans who ought to know better.
It makes me so tired.
So very sick and tired.
We haven't evolved much. We've survived. I wonder for how much longer.
*
Reading a Sylvia Plath biography at the moment. Author Anne Stevenson's hostility is so barely concealed. I feel like I need another bio just to balance the picture.
*
New (to me) music: Tkay Maidza, Australian hip hop artist and super cool girl.
This video tho.

kunst

These days, I'm either all chill or none at all.
The center is gone, like somebody licked out the middle of the Oreo.
Maybe I'm becoming more of a nihilist; either everything matters, or nothing does.
I'm inclined towards the latter.
*
On a less bombastic note, I witnessed some beautiful art this week.
First, at Retail Therapy, new work by artist/poet/raconteur Philipp.
I met new people and talked art and old books and drank red wine and admired the pieces, happy/sad that my pal's work is now out of my price range.
Then, on to Dendroica, to meet up with new friend Noel, a mad talented cartoonist and poet. This was a rambunctious gathering of cartoonists who got their start in the '90's, as nerdy, lovable, talented and provocative a group as I've met in awhile.
And I realized belatedly that my pal Indu was also showing on the Hill at Bluecone.
For all the kvetching I do about Seattle losing its soul, maybe I'm wrong, maybe the time for breaking shit and tearing things apart is still upon us.

cali

I was lucky enough to spend a couple of days in southern California recently.
A friend found love and moved and invited some of us to come hang out. His fella is a big-hearted sweetie, and they've got a swell house and an adorable young Schnauzer. We dined the first night at Casa Mota on Mexican food and 32-ounce Tecates--what better way to launch a weekend? Saturday was a lazy morning outside by the pool, drinking coffee and catching up. Then, Thai food and an hour's drive to Palm Springs, where we lounged poolside, drank pineapple mojitos and basked in the heat. The next day--already my last!--was a swap meet, and chilaquiles with killer salsa at El Corral.
*
Some days I feel alone, lonely, lost.
A good book makes me feel less alone.
Laughs with friends.
Music (tomorrow, Le1f!).
This little Spike Jonze video. Grover is my heart.