Welp, here’s Tig Notaro’s segment on This American Life - Live. (Not the best quality) Captured w/ my smartphone. It’s up to you if you click play or not. :)
I’d absolutely kill to get in the ocean.
I’m cold.
I’ve been cold for months now.
Andrew and I went to Disneyland earlier this year.I can vividly remember waiting for space moutain. My legs and back were killing me and as we encroached on an hour and a half waiting I remeber cursing myself for insisting we come. As soon as I sat in that space ship and started zipping around, all was forgiven. I would’ve waited all over again. Portland summer is a lot like that for me. It is so magical…so perfect, I forget how hard the wait it. My bones ache for the change.
It’s supposed to get up to 70 this weekend, lets all cross our fingers.
ugh.
Today I said something snotty to a employee. Which is unlike me! I pride myself on being polite.
This was after I was in traffic for an hour and a half trying to get to my sewing class on time.
This was also after a shitty day of work.
Which was also after a series of shitty days (months) at work.
I feel really burnt out. I want to get home and do things to help me feel better but I’m so tired and upset. I spend about 8 + hours a week in traffic a week. The thought of sitting in grid lock while the summer passes me by brings tears to my eyes.
Goodbye Belmont.
Thursday we get the keys to our new place.
I am nervous because it’s our place. The days of my place are behind me.
I am also nervous because it’s in a new neighborhood. A new and exciting neighborhood. Not the beautiful neighborhood I have inhabited for some time now.
Currently I walk out of my front door and spill out into a bustling street. Most all of my hearts desires can be satisfied within a few walkable blocks. Even when I’m in a poor mood I can’t help but smile when I walk down my beautiful street. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve said to myself ” oh stop, it isn’t really that bad ” as I take in my surroundings.
Lastly and perhaps most important I such at change. I am a creature of habit.
Much like a failed relationship, now that the move is so close I’m having trouble remembering the bad stuff.
I will not miss the loud drunken cackles. I will not miss the upstairs neighbors who make my life hell. I will not miss searching for parking. I will not miss the street noise, and don’t even get me started about motorcycles.
…home is wherever he is anyways.
