On the bus

I haven't seen the retarded baby on the 24 line in a while. I used to see her and her mom (who is almost the same size as her-she's an enormous 2 year old and her mom is tiny) every day on my way to work. I miss her. I don't know for sure that she's retarded, but that glazed, unengaged look she had and the way she never cried or spoke made me think it. A very easy kid to care for on the whole. I did see the spacy Haight Street bus teenage-girl, the one who sprints to and from the bus with no facial expression, for the first time since moving away from the Haight. That bus is full of wacky regulars, and I feel sentimental every time I ride it.

My dear dear friends are moving to New Zealand next month. We had all tentatively been planning to go together around August, but events accelerated in highly coincidental and unanticipated ways this weekend. Now they are giving away most of what they own for free. I am deeply tempted to take some, although it means I will be in a similar position a few months down the road.

Every time I look around, everything has changed. Startling confrontations, abrupt endings, people coming and going, I feel extremely fluid right now. Rikky talked to me this weekend about that feeling a lot of people have when they realize that this, working full-time, is what they will be doing for the rest of their life. I personally don't have this feeling, but I think it's because there is a clear ending to my workiness approaching. I see a long series of working and not working in my future. It's very nice to think about! I will never be rich, and maybe I'll have to rethink this plan if a kid appears, but it makes me hopeful in a way that many people aren't.

Ahem. Sappy statement aproaching! This is the first Valentine's Day I've had that I neither feel bummed about being single nor in need of acknowledgement of the occasion by a significant other. I am creating new definitions of a good relationship and I think I will add this feeling to the list. Fuck yes!

Excuse me, I usually have this sort of outburst under control but lately this stuff is exploding out of my mouth all over the place. YOU know.

My apartment is empty again. Yeeeeeeeeeeessssssss. A tornado of girls hit it and tonight when I get home from work I am going to lie on top of the pile of rubble left behind and listen to Boards of Canada. I will not think. I will turn off my phone. I will alternately stare at bright colors and adjust my curtains to try and make the ceiling look pink and then green. I will raise my legs up into the air so that they lift half my torso up with them, and then I will hover like that with all my weight resting on my shoulders and upper back until I get tired. I will not take out the trash.

Maybe.