Week in Review:

Of course it was some kind of hell. Dave gone. I just can't seem to get used to being busy either. Then, if a day of particularly bad karma is thrown in, well, that's just icing on the cake.

Monday was the worst. I guess after that day each following day felt lighter and easier, so maybe it wasn't hellish all week; it was just the lingering shock of Monday.

So Monday: I got towed. I have never been towed in my life! There have probably been times when I deserved it and it didn't happen, but Monday was not one of those times. To be brief: I over-parked by 20 minutes in the wrong place (obviously). Will not do that again. It was a huge waste of time and money and just a general pain in the ass. The best thing to come out of it was Jason saying I could borrow his truck for two days if I needed to. For 5 hours or so I raced around town in the cab of a truck that smelled just like him. It drove incredibly smoothly compared to the Falcon: Acceleration and shifting were effortless and the bouncy nature of the 4X4's suspension made me feel like I was driving a trampoline on wheels. Lots of hills and dips in this city over which to test the springs. Ahh, and I almost forgot one sweet perk: surround sound. I gave it back to him when, after paying one hundred and twenty-three dollars, at 12:30 in the a.m., the Falcon was back in my possession. I believe that's more than the car is worth.

[It's too hard to recap a week. So much happens and each major event in itself falls short of adequately conveying the mood of the week without the little actions and experiences over which they are laid.]

The towing thing happened because I had an assignment due Tuesday that required use of a software package, SPSS, which I don't own. Consequently, I needed to use computer labs, most of which I couldn't access because I didn't yet have UW email. (That's a long story in itself.) I decided I would buy SPSS with my student discount, but I couldn't do that either. It's my student status, see: The institution just isn't set up to deal with non-matriculated graduates. That's why no email; that's why I can't buy software and why, when I was arguing with the bookstore people over being able to purchase said software, my car got towed.

What a hassle.

I did get the assignment done on time. Yeay. Later in the week I got UW email through work. Yeay. By the way, work itself is getting easier: I understand more, get more done, and I feel better about being there.

Thursday night I drove down to Puyallup to see David Guterson speak. Handsome man. He read from Snow Falling On Cedars and from the manuscript of his new book, East of the Mountains. It was wonderful to hear him read the sentences, pausing long on certain sounds and fast on others, singing it like one would a poem. The best part was feeling a connection to him through our shared locality. When I read Snow Falling On Cedars, I read a book about Puget Sound whose author experiences it exactly like I do. It was an incredible read in Korea; it brought me home.

Then tonight I went to see Henry Rollins at the Paramount. I learned that the way to see shows like that is to go it alone: I walked up to the ticket booth just 5 minutes before the show started and got a seat in row six. Six!

There's a long story behind this too. Do I take the space to tell it? Maybe I can shorten it: Dave is a long time fan of Black Flag. He played them for me the first time while we were driving in my car between Phoenix and Las Vegas. It was sunny, it was hot, Joshua Trees poked up out of the desolation. I thought the music was hideous. I just can't get into punk, even a band as influential as Black Flag. Dave told me about Henry Rollins, he bought his Grammy winning album Get in the Van and the book of the same. I read the whole book and that clinched my interest. The key: Here's a man who not only lived his dream, but endured it.

Being Halloween, the crowd was dressed in costume and so was Henry. I was the only one who wasn't it seemed; but in my various browns and Gore-Tex coat against the backdrop of so many oddities, I was a caricature of a Seattlite. Anyway, Henry wore that Superman outfit he wore in the Liar video. From my position in the sixth row and off a bit to the right of him, I observed for three hours the splendid curve of a perfect thigh as it blends itself into the narrowness of the knee. Absolutely perfect. He stood like he does when he's singing, (screaming?) leaning forward on it, sometimes spitting out into the crowd. I imagine, with muscles that size, the weight of his own torso mustn't register at all and he must feel weightless. I was inspired to lift more this week.

As for the performance: I had mixed feelings. I expected him to read some of his poetry or from other things he's written. Instead he animated anecdotes from his early days, tying them into opportunities to educate the audience, which, from my point of view, tended to aim for the totally clueless and it was easy to see where his own opinions weren't completely informed. He seemed, for the most part, like one's best narcissistic friend who loves to tell a good story, and who is allowed to act because the storytelling is so entertaining. He was hilarious. I laughed hard and thought he was mostly a stand-up comic. A weird thing is that he looks just like a former boyfriend of mine. I mean, spitting image except that Henry is definitely thicker. Even their facial affect is identical and their voices similar. Geez, they look the same, talk the same, both love themselves excessively, and both are very focused on risky careers. Bizarre.

Other things this week: Tea and rice cake by candlelight. Gutting a pumpkin and then mutilating it until it was a funny lantern. Screams for help and shrill shrieks followed shortly by two ambulances across the street from the apartment (not on Halloween). I'm moving again soon (details later). Hours of music inside on a misty, spooky day. A long nap.