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[personal profile] silverfae9
If you were to smell my childhood, it would smell like pot smoke and beer and warm sweet oranges fresh off the tree. It would smell like overheated amp wiring, Jacaranda blossoms, and night blooming jasmine. This is not a bad thing.

I'm trying not to let my mom's visit make me morbid, but it's hard. She's like a cartoon version of herself, and this is hard--we were very good friends during the short period of time between when I moved out and she got married one more time. At some point when I was very young our roles switched and I became the mother. I worry about her.

I feel like yuck. This has been a bad week and for once I'm not going to pretend it hasn't.

In other news, last night's show was pretty cool. (Well, once I sat down and the room stopped spinning.) I really, really like Seattle.

This morning on the bus someone pulled the 'request stop' cord and then the guy across me wearing headphones pulled it too. Because I didn't see the first one pull it, I thought for a second that something was malfunctioning in my brain, that there was a lag somewhere important.
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silverfae9

August 2010

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