bubble

I rarely have a friday off, so I didn't know what to do with the freedom which felt like a bubble. I met with the therapist, who was, from the start, exasperated. "You ok?" "Oh yeah. Just...it's...exhausting, with..." "...all these crazies?" Pause. "Yes. I just want to talk to..." "...a sane person?" "Yes." Laughter shared. "Now I feel pressure." Laughter. He had his hands placed on the back of his chair like he was bracing himself not for, but from. "Well, listen to this...I was walking over here and I saw this meter lady writing a ticket, and I saw this man run from his car to the woman, asking her to please hold off, he had some change, and if he could just put some in the meter, the person wouldn't need to get cited. She responded, 'This doesn't concern the meter, this is something else.' 'Oh really? There's nothing I can do to help?' 'Nope.' The man walked back to his car, seemingly affected. I got the chance to witness this kindness. So, there's sane, kind people out there. Does that make you feel better?" I asked. I remembered thinking, to feel happy, I think I need to see that people do this for each other, every once in a while.

I should have gone on a run to expel the pent-energy, but did not. I think I ramped up my mileage a little too quickly post marathon, and I need to keep it in check to stay healthy. Instead, Mads J. and I went for pepper-vodka infused bloody mary's, shopping, conveyer belt sushi & sapporo, then crawled into the big bed with ice cream and boston cream pie, watching shit television until our eyes closed. You can do this sort of thing on your own and feel pretty cool, but, eventually I think you'll ask yourself what's the deal. If you've got someone to do it with, nothing else matters & you don't ask yourself silly questions about existence, timing, aloneness, etc. I just thought ahead to her leaving and almost threw up in my mouth.

As of Saturday I am no longer a record-holder at Western. K. Steen has absorbed the title with an incredible steeple at GNAC, and I'm hoping she'll annihilate this time even more come Nationals. I worked a full day at the bar, opening with this tripod of personality, serving 1 oz. tastes all morning. The gentleman held my hand a little long in departure, I wondered if eventually he would kiss it, but I think people just need to be touched sometimes. Then, he brought me a box of pizza leftovers from his lunch so that I would be comforted in food for the rest of the bar shift. I think I'm reading like an open invitation right now. I guess this was another one of those interject the meter-maid acts of kindness.

Sunday was mmm. Mads J. and I slept together, her leaving me in the early morning light for her own bed, waking a later-early for toast & coffee. We geared up for a long run in the rolling farmsteads of Ferndale. She biked beside me as I ran, my hype-girl, playing music, keeping the tempo up by way of song. At the end of the run a black horse whinnied and galloped beside me. It held the fly eyes of spring and though aggressive in gallop, it was sweet and let me feed it roadside weeds. It was another run with luxury of shirtlessness. We dressed for town, windows down, music loud; dropped her off to meet with friends from the 'couve. R & I walked around blvd. for hours, toes in water off dock, sailboats, characters yelling at ice cream cones left on the pavement. I took Mads. J through Western to see the campus, we had our last Sunday night viewing of G.O.T., chanting, "G-O-T! G-O-T!" And, because she always needs something a bit more lighthearted post G.O.T. to save herself from dreams, we stayed up late watching The Way Way Back, which I loved. I'm a huge fan of Toni Collette and now I have a huge crush on Sam Rockwell - I was blind before him, now I'm blinded in love. I just cheesed out over videos of his dance moves. Obsessed.