it’s bright here
It’s bright in the south half of here – apartment/condo/whatever – exactly 5pm Sunday, me getting a jump on my Monday weather, knowing how I feel right now I’ll still feel when and if I’m lucky enough to wake up to the birdy phone alarm at 4:35 tomorrow and sit, and today (when you read this) I will have moved off the edge of the bed to a more straight-back chair I came upon sitting with a twin in front of a house pretty far up 29th Street, me on a gleeful early walk (cue Velvet Underground’s “Sunday Morning” for ethereal backdrop) and laughing out loud, and choosing the healthier of the two and carrying it home, along with a book I’d snagged 10 minutes earlier from a “little library”, this a sci-fi wonder written by a black woman, which seems to happen a fair amount, poetry too, and I dig that, the point is my hands were full with gifts from the Universe (never mind $200 showing up in the mail from Medford, MA yesterday – raining gifts like a slant on the Weather Girls “It’s Raining Men”), and it’s pretty damn skippy to be writing about my very own internal emotional weather with the Weather Girls (and Velvets) providing the musical milieu.
I guess a point is, this Monday, I come to sit here at the keyboard – which is the laptop resting on this small, low-to-earth blue table, heavy and powerful, I likewise grabbed from a curbside, got to talk with its owner who’d recently had a divorce, like me, and was moving from long-time stability, like me, except she was on her way out to El Cajon and I was just arriving for the San Diego party. Feeling more than a little like Alice, having slipped and oozed through the looking glass I found bordering the 5 from Portland to Encinitas. In other words, “Y’all don’t come back soon, you hear.” I’m sitting on an ottoman someone laid on me in Encinitas, typing on the laptop on a low solid table, which I accepted here in Golden Hill and I was right then singing in the sunshine, like what’s her name, and my back hurts quite a bit from no lumbar support since Wednesday, and, kids, my gratitude level is so sky high – I swear I feel like I’ve been living here in Golden Hill all along, I just now caught up with myself. Curiouser and curiouser.
This all makes wonderful sense to me, which is pretty much the point of my writing and daily blogging along with a burning desire to say it well enough to engage and/or at least entertain. That’s all I want. I’ve done some other cool feels-like-home stuff the last few days which I’ll spill soon. This post today – post number 7 zillion on Couch Surfing at 70 – is day one after the end of the “Weather” book I talked about last Friday. I’ll get that book published down the road, if you assume I ever get some furniture and the desktop reassembles and my back decreases the level of howl and my fiery focus returns to all the right places.
So yeah – me and Gale Garnett – singing in the sunshine.