I took all my posters, maps, and flags off my wall. My room has become bare and enlarged in preparation for this move. I took two more boxes to the post office today and ran into an old friend who I haven't seen in a few years. We used to work together when I was at my first real grown up job after college. It was nice to exchange chatter about workplace drama and what's coming up for me. I'm sure we'll cross paths again someday. I've always enjoyed his company.
It cost $45 to ship most of my shoes because I'm Liz and I have a shoe problem.
Tonight (yesterday? I don't know, my night hasn't really ended?) I did a show called New Television, a show two friends put on at the Acadia. It's fun seeing what brain children my friends are thinking of and participating in. It was a nice change of pace from the Monday Night Comedy Show, as in I wasn't in a basement pretending three dollar You-Call-Its don't bother me. I was able to do five-ish minutes and some new material worked, so it's a win in my shoddy unleatherbound book.
My room is a complete pit. Random things are scattered all over my floor: lighters, pens, broken sunglasses, bras, black books from serving, extension cords, zip ties, crumpled papers for wrapping breakables, an empty bowl of cereal. This room is so big. I have the entire upstairs of my house, right underneath the A-frame. There's real wood paneling slanted on both sides with a drop ceiling. It appears to be Scandinavian but I don't know why. Probably because of the IKEA accents or that it's sauna-y.
This last week has been rough, but I feel strong. If situations like this had arisen in the past, I would have immediately buckled under the Silver Bullet. Instead, I can't sleep and I'm eating cereal marketed towards children who aren't running away from their problems. I unknowingly survived a break up and didn't even realize I persevered without drinking until the storm had calmed. I made the right decision in regards to a friend who was in grave need of help, a decision I originally questioned because I sympathized with the pain. Today I actually thought to myself, "well, it's in the past - let's move on." A major and personal development. I'm anxious to get to a point in my life where I'm living and not just trying to survive, but perhaps it's because I'm still somewhat early in sobriety.
I'm starting to plot out my trip to Yellowstone on my way home to Seattle. I'm thinking I'll take a week to get back home and time it right so I get into town when my parents are home on the weekend. Ultimately, I'll have a week to chow some asphalt and take in some sights along the way. I've heard Mt. Rushmore is largely overrated and that the monument is smaller than people anticipate. I'm also looking to check out Devil's Tower in Wyoming on my way to Cody. I went to Yellowstone with my parents in 1995 but I don't remember much outside of getting eaten alive by an insect that scientists recently deemed would have no crucial impact on the environment if it were forcefully eliminated. Cody, Wyoming also has the Buffalo Bill Historical Center, which I'm sure is a positive experience sans lotions and baskets.
So I'll have a week to myself. I should probably organize my music and download podcasts that aren't Russian language lessons. Eventually I'll have to play Tetris with my car to fit everything I've pushed into one corner of my room. Of course, not everything is a perfect cube. Giant Angry Bird and IKEA plush shark "klapper haj" will be more forgiving of the inner confines of my Soul than the boxes full of N64 games, cowbells meant for actual cows and not Will Ferrell, and a giant tube full of Neil Young posters and obscure National Geographic maps.
Tonight, later today after it gets light out and the dark again and I'm aware that's confusing because I haven't slept and it's 5:04am, I'll be downtown at the Pourhouse doing what is probably my last show in Minnesota. I'll be doing a whole ten minutes and not unfinished new stuff that I'm questioning on the way to the venue. I'm actually really looking forward to it.
It's starting to get light out and kitty is hiding his face in the blanket we're sharing. In two hours I'll have to shove him unhidden face first into his carrier and then reward myself with McDonald's breakfast.
It's 5:14am, and George likes his chicken spicy.