“There’s too much gas in the Gus Bus, take him down.”

I am not a stoic. If you read this blog or follow me on twitter or have heard me at a bar saying something like “So that’s when THE ABRASION started and I really wanted to tell him to pull back his teeth” you know I’m not the sort of guy who is going to keep his opinion to himself. Or… much of anything. There’s not much of anything I keep to myself. I try to make it funny, I try to keep it civil, but I try to keep a constant flow of communication, mostly so I don’t feel lonely.

Last week was less about that, and more about me sitting and thinking. I didn’t blog that much. I tried to keep the tweeting to a minimum. I IM’d a lot, but I do that by instinct. But I spent a lot of time sitting in the sun and feeling things, trying to put things in order so I can talk about them. A series of events just brutally shifted my emotional self, and I was unprepared for how it would make me feel.

I had sex. It was good. She was enthusiastic and beautiful. I had forgotten that every single part of sex is fun. I have some issues to work out still. But it was a rewarding experience. I am glad I did it. That being said, I forgot how much bullshit goes along with sex. There’s so much posturing and guessing and there’s so much drama. I know it’s healthy, I know it’s part of life. But some of the industrial strength angst I felt this week made me long for the stony faced man who just told people “I don’t date” whenever it came up. I am trying not to let this wind me back into old patterns, but it’s so easy. Not having sex is so easy, Internets. Trust me, you don’t even have to think about it after a while. You don’t even want to.

My grandma died. We didn’t find out for a few days because she didn’t die at home so nobody had a phone number for my folks. She was old, and she smoked, and she loved salt and shopping. She had a bad heart and she hated taking blood pressure meds so it was bound to happen eventually. She died the way she lived, in a casino with a menthol cigarette in her mouth and casual disdain for liberals and foreigners. I love her dearly and it’s very difficult to acknowledge that she’s gone. I found myself thinking “Man, Grandma Mickey died. I wonder what Grandma Mickey thinks about that, it’s been so long I should give her a call.” while I was washing dishes in the sink. I do this with my Grandpa Walker too, sometimes. The entirety of last week was overshadowed by the hugeness of her death. She is legendary in my memory, larger than life. And while I have the mementos of her physical life, the memories of our time together: The scorpion dance, the arguments, the birthday song, us eating an entire roll of mint lifesavers while we drive around town, that feeling in the pit of my stomach where I realize I want to strike an elderly woman – This is my inheritance. (also the Tanuki)

I got let down. It happens. But I had been looking forward to this for so long and to have it unravel so close to fruition was very frustrating. These last few weeks (months, years) have been one continuous reminder that the only one I can rely on is myself, and everything else is just cream, which is a bit depressing in general, and this just added to my angst over the week. They apologized and I accepted, but I’m still selfish, and upset that I don’t get to see my best friend shyly stuff dollar bills into a thong at Silverado while intoxicated to the point of medical distress.

I got to drive all over Portland. It sucked ass. Fuck you, freeways. Fuck your slow ass driving 30 on the on-ramp. Fuck your inability to merge effectively. Fuck the 26. Fuck people who can’t figure out how to turn on a red. Fuck everybody who speeds up to block me in a lane just to switch into the lane in front of me. Fuck everybody who turns right from the left lane. Fuck all of you who CANNOT FIGURE OUT WHAT A TWO WAY CENTER TURN LANE IS FOR. IT’S FOR TURNING. IT’S NOT GOD DAMNED ROCKET SURGERY.

I let a friend down. And a new friend at that. Need to pay more attention to that.

I didn’t get to ride my bike. Mostly this was me being lazy, there were opportunities that I passed up, but I feel like I let myself down by not enjoying the heat and sunshine after months of blaming my lack of riding on the cold and wet. Pathetic, and something that has to be fixed.

There are other things that are chewing through my ulcer but I think that’s enough for today.

2 thoughts on “Potpourri

  1. "but I feel like I let myself down by not enjoying the heat and sunshine after months of blaming my lack of riding on the cold and wet." —What is it about people in Portland and their need to enjoy the sunshine. Man, you ride your bike to the farmers market, then go out for brunch, go out for a bike ride followed by a barbeque with friends. By the middle of the summer, I'm exhausted from so much 'enjoying the sunshine.' There's too much pressure. Sometimes I just want to lay on my couch and watch tv.

  2. I like being a little exhausted by it, actually. There's something about living someplace with so much natural beauty that I have to mete it out which is awesome.

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