snoop

Boyyeee what a way to end a weekend, at a sold out Snoop Dogg show.
Dyme Def was the second opener, loooove those kids and hope to see a lot more.
But we were there to see the legend, and he did not disappoint. Chill, charming, fly, he had everybody dancing and smiling.
At the bar, my friend asked the remarkably relaxed bartender: what exactly is the "juice" in gin n juice?
(I especially heart this song after Nosaj Thing ended his Neumo's show last year by cueing it up and simply walking offstage.)

hey stranger

There were times I didn't think I'd make it through this week. Grim events have lurked and materialized, and I'm soaked in weariness.
But also in the past 7 days, I've met some super cool out-of-towners. Seattle is known--and despised--for its freeze, for its surface friendliness and veneer of hostility. Sometimes I feel I'm on a personal mission to dispel the myth. Last week at the Eldridge show my pals and I met some Portlanders, goofy musicians who showed us YouTube videos and drank PBRs and did crazy dances. At the end of the night we all went our way, no numbers exchanged, just smiles and good-bye.
Tonight, I went to a nearby bar for a beer and some dinner, alone but not lonely. I met a funny pair from Cle Elum, in town to drink beer, see friends and valiantly attack a gigantic bowl of potato chips. She works at a chimp refuge, he fights fires. For an hour we shot the shit, laughed and bonded, and then I settled my bill, shook hands, and peaced out.
Tomorrow I have no plans. It may be the first time in a long time. I need it. I'm ailing. I need to summon my strength.

byeeee

Lots of good-byes lately.
A couple of friends moved away. A few more are thinking about it. Some old friends are distant. I shared long hugs today with one of my favorite people who is leaving the country for a couple weeks. We pretend-cried but after she left I held back real tears.
I'm not good at good-byes. I hate them. I even hate "see ya later." To me it's all bad-byes. (Bad-bye always makes me think of Homer which makes me Google Homer Simpson quotations which then makes me laugh. Anyway.)
And yeah I know it's all cyclical and death is a part of life and good-bye is necessary for hello, I know all that.
I know it. Now I gotta learn to live it.
*
Photo is along Dexter Avenue a few weeks ago.

burned

Happy July y'all.
I've been busy, working like mad on a story draft, planning trips (look out Denver, Kansas, Connecticut, Dar es Salaam, and London).
The Fourth was one of the best in awhile. I slept in, went for a long run, wrote a little. The hopped a bus, laden with beer, a chilled rose, brownies and onion dip, and went to the beach to a good friend's bbq. We had a lazy afternoon of sun and drinking and catching up; an artist friend took a break and biked over, another friend joined later and drove us to my sis's bigtime event, patio bbq with the fam and then fireworks--mortars, roman candles, black cats, bottle rockets, and assorted other explosives for the kiddies.
I emerged with the only injury, my thumb knuckle blasted and blistered after a little girl waved her freshly-lit sparkler too close. Later on we walked to the lake and watched the official show, then capped off the night with a firecracker fight, the kids wrapped up in blankets, laughing at the bigger kids playing with fire.
Still rocking the band-aids and ointment, but regretting nothing.

ow

So deciding to have a sob-free day was probably a bad idea being that I got some new ink. Ha. On the other hand, pain can be centering. When a very talented and capable tattoo artist is running a needle into your skin, you can't think about much else.

It's been a painful week but not in entirely negative ways:
Some people I love are going through really tough times. We have no idea of the outcome and there's more ahead. It's a minute-by-minute battle not to freak out with worry. I've been going through my own, self-inflicted misery and it's minute-by-minute too, sometimes. But guess what, I've lived through it so far and I'm okay. Wow. Then there's the pain of getting a tattoo. The first few cuts hurt a lot. A LOT. Today, I lay there thinking "WTF was I thinking?" Then it becomes routine. It still hurts, but it's become less of a surprise. I concentrated on breathing. Un-clenching. Ash and I talked about how hard it is to keep life simple and not fuck things up. I thought about my other ink and the reasons I'd gotten it done. Then, it was over. The lack of pain feels enormous, like a big beautiful bubble. But I wouldn't have got there without the previous ninety minutes.

tldr

Not much better than new slang: tldr
My niece is super critical of how I talk. She's deemed cray cray to be old person slang. Same with jelly. 
I say, whatevs.
*
I wanted to bestow some hipster scorn on this band and on their video but both are oddly sweet and funny. Don't hate, just enjoy the wiggle.

stuff about trust

Man I am learning some stuff about trust these days. Or more accurately: I'm in a position to learn about it. Whether I can/will/have/do is another thing entirely.
Change is good, impermanence is necessary--I get that.
I've been reading about (in)dependence and object permanence and want vs need, and I feel like maybe I didn't get what I needed to as a kid, but guess what, I'm no longer a kid. Somehow I gotta learn these things and hopefully I'll learn them before I damage something kind of lovely.
Hopefully.