Woke up with plans on checking
out Lizzie to take her on a beach adventure with Joette. Not feeling well, I knew that the inside of the
bus would be much better than the inside of a Marmot tent on the cool coast. I also worked on my functional résumé, something
new to me. I’ve always been a chronological
one, myself. Susan, the Supervisor from
Heaven, let me know she was on her way to The Bookery and could look over what
I had, plus loan me a book to improve my resume skills. I threw on workout clothes, a little
sunscreen, for odoriferous benefit, and headed out.
Oh, joy of joys, we have two
picketers here in front of the former Carrow’s, with some signs against Stem
Express (a biomedical research facility).
The signs had words such as “chopped up baby parts”, etc. These are the idiots who shouldn’t be allowed
any type of benefit from research when their loved one is diagnosed with
cancer. The fact is, fetuses don’t make
it; the fact is, we can prevent
things such as that by medical research.
Go back under your rock…. I didn’t
say anything. I did call the police to see if protesters needed a permit. They don’t. <sad face>. I met with Susan and her Ally and, oohhhmyyyy… I can gain so much wisdom by just
being near this lady!! Once at home, I looked for camp sites, saw
none were available and realized that, in my physical state, I needed to stay
home. My headthroat (a new compound
word) was not well, so despite having vacuumed out the bus, I let Joette know
it would be a back and forth trip.
Around 3ish4, I began the journey
to Sebastopol. IF I were to stay in this
Land of California, this is the area I would want to make my home. Surely some of the buyers of antiques would need therapy right? The journey was a nice one as I listened to
The BookThief on the way. Soon enough, I
made to the HopMonk parking lot and found Joette. This woman is all sorts of rad and I was sad
that plans on heading up to her part of the land had not been realized this summer. We walked to Whole Foods, where she bought
stuff and I loaded up on herbalorganicveganfreetradewholesomewhatever stuff to
help me feel better. Then, to a natural
food restaurant called Slice of Life where the cook had split and they were
filled to the brim with customers. We sat outside with
Lyon being ever-so-cute <why do I never have a calm dog?> until it grew
chilly and we managed a table inside. We
ate…we talked…we shared…we left. Soon,
the Hips were on.
WHY do I experience such intense Camus-influenced Absurdism at Hips
shows???? Seriously – what the fuck is
going on in my head? This evoked-journey
of inherent value and Life’s meaning seems to appear as soon as the face of
certain people are seen at shows- people I haven’t shared more than 4 words with - and I’m
unsure as to why. It’s a step back into
junior high for me and I told Joette I just want to go…leave..escape to Europe
where I know no one and can begin again.
And this was in the parking lot, I hadn't even stepped inside yet….
Yet inside, though the feelings
remained <always>, the lovely music put a damper on the emotions. The first set was acoustic and
ohhmyygawddwow! These guys. Such incredible sound! I heard Motorhome..and quickly shut down a
man who was creating a ruckus with my “mom glare.” I could
feel my eyes start to tire, along with my body, and thus, during the second
set, I left as there were still a handful of songs left. I had a long drive, though with no traffic I easily
shaved half an hour off the drive. Not
being drunk also helps in those situations.
Tomorrow – my plan is to give
myself permission to not Do. I might
very well hit day 3 of no gym, no house cleaning, no nothing. It’ll be tough, because holy gawd, I want to
empty this house, but I need to not get sick with my throathead.
Pics 'n flicks:
Lyon waits as Joette and I eat; The Joy of Sects, reframing, indeed; Joette and Me at HopMonk; The Mother Hips Magic
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