Textplosion madness.

Barring textplosive celebratory conversations, this is the most text messages I've ever received all at once. Apparently a lot of people or maybe just one or two have a lot of things they want to say to me that they don't want me to hear or read. Call, people. It's probably going to be like this for another week or two.

In two weeks I'll be old enough to go see your band almost always. It's especially funny telling that to people I've known since I was 14. I can't believe there are people I've known that long that aren't blood-related that are still in my life. I freakin' love that. I think it's amazing. I never really thought about it, and there they are.

Last night I hung out with Lucas and Zac (I think without an h or k, but I could be wrong) and kinda Kathryn and Barda. It was a really nice time (and I wish I had a better word for it, but I don't just yet). And afterwards, driving through town again felt so perfect. And though I still think I'd rather be on that side of the bridges, even the freeway felt good. The mix I've slowly been compiling is timed exactly right for the drive, and right now those songs just make me smile so big. I'm so grateful to be back here.

Living with the living.

Now that I'm ready to make my return, certain mundane necessities have resurfaced. Namely, I've resumed looking at jobs and potential places to live (but at the very least a place for band practice besides my family's basement). I found a gorgeous and inexpensive 4-bedroom house and I'd love to get some housemates for it, but I don't feel certain I can sort that out fast enough. As for jobs, I began my search at the library where, according to the job listing, "There may be some exposure to angry or hostile individuals." Amazing.

In other non-news, my phone broke when I fell on it the other night. I can still take and make calls and hear when people text message me, but that's it. I can't know who I'm talking to until the other person talks, read received texts or send 'em, etc. At first this seemed like it could be fun, but listening to the familiar chime of an incoming message is becoming torturous.

All that aside:
+ the Chris Walla record is beautiful
+ the video for "Sing Again" is adorable
+ I have strawberry Pez.
+ I've been writing some songs that I actually like.

Oh yeah.

Yesterday I had pretty much all of my hair cut off. I'm going to save a bundle on shampoo and conditioner!

I really do still like you.

I was writing an email to a friend and realized it says the same thing I need to say to a few folks, most of whom live in Seattle or Bellingham or the general vicinity of Seattlingham:

...sorry for not being more in touch lately. It's been taking me a while to get over things (sickness, shit-quality people and the shit-quality things they've done, myself, etc.). Mostly myself, really.... Anyway, I'm a lot better now but still kind of wobbly about human contact and waking up with blood crusting in my nose (no need to thank me for that image) which is maybe a little bit of a worry. I'm working on it. I start practicing with Chris soon which should help. Anyway, I will call you soon is all I mean.

...slightly edited. I think "shit-quality" is a little more accurate than "shitty" somehow. And you don't need to know about how Gmail was splitting my letters up instead of words... Though now you know anyway. And the email didn't actually namecheck Chris as this person doesn't know the guy so it wouldn't have made sense to. But that sums it up. Chances are I was supposed to hang out with you then I got sick for two and a half weeks and hoped my heart would stop hurting so much by the time my cold-stomach flu-cough-normal flu-nausea-general physical takeover subsided but it didn't. In some cases I even tried hanging out with you in this state. I was probably weird (more than usual, I mean). Sorry about that.

Unrelated:
I've been staying up too late lately, I'll be 21 years old in less than a month and I'm not sure when it will be 2008.

make more sense.

The night that would have been new year's eve, someone told me exactly the words I needed to be told. I don't even know how he meant it or what he meant by it, but when that kind of thing happens, I have no place questioning it. Sometimes I can only be supremely grateful for the good people in my life who see good things in me. Without you, there's no telling how lost I'd be.

Make yourself at home.

I felt ready to settle down for a minute... but I really don't think I am.

I left Australia early, and if it wasn't for flight cancellations and All Shall Perish, I might think I made the wrong decision. ("Why did you leave early, Cristina?" I left early because I don't always win the fight against my crazies.)

December 24th in the airport in Adelaide, I sit on the floor with my Duty Free purchases, iPod and book making a mental note of the gang of dudes who look maybe like they could be DJs (that is, bearded and wearing Deez Nuts gear). So the flight to Auckland is delayed. And then delayed again. And then cancelled. Air New Zealand greets us at the end of a long and nearly motionless line of disgruntled customers, directs us to a bus which takes us to the Hyatt where we stay for free and are granted a free room service dinner and drink tickets. Suddenly my crazies fade and I notice from the inside of room 1314 that I'm in Australia. In a really freakin' nice hotel. For free.

Maybe this is a sign that I need to be alone sometimes. Within minutes I have removed my jeans and t-shirt in favour of the dress I bought when I was wondering how to dress appropriately for a family I don't know too well's Christmas festivities. I'm trying unsuccessfully to call Air New Zealand to make sure my transfers were taken care of and then jumping on the bed and turning down drinking with the band (on the way out of the airport as we were made to re-collect baggage I spotted their gear). Eventually I give up on calling Air New Zealand. Mom's checked and it sounds okay anyway. Jett is tied up for most of the day, so I hit the town scouting for Christmas gifts. No luck, but still, I hadn't hit the town alone before then and it was different. Plus I was in the good dress. Upon my return to the hotel I order room service (the most expensive dinner on the menu), change into a bathrobe and eat and sleep and eat. Read. Watch Brazil. Take a few calls from Jett, stand in the window waving at him 30 km away and am so ludicrously happy. When he finally comes over, even though the show we go to see is apparently not happening, we have an amazing night. Even though the casino is closed, we have so much fun. At least I do. He gives me a fake tour around the convention center. I climb on and into sculptures. We eat what the Jersey girl in me wants to call water ice. For the first time in a while, he doesn't seem to be even remotely distracted or controlled by his phone or computer; we just have fun and it feels so perfect. On a day I imagined I'd spend on an airplane flying away from Adelaide, Adelaide and I have the most beautiful time I never dreamed of.

When we woke up, it was Christmas. Actually, it was Christmas when we went to sleep. Goodbyes are on North Terrace, where it's cold for summer, still dark and 5 in the morning. As I walk onto the bus - I'm not even kidding - "I Aint Missing You" by John Waite is playing. My stomach is angry on the airplane and I am stuck in the window seat behind a man who sleeps with his legs wide apart, his tray table down and his hands clasped on top of it. Fuck.

But I get into Auckland with four or five hours until the flight to San Francisco. I run into the band again and we're given free vouchers to the VIP lounge. I spend what feels like most of Christmas day in the emptiest part of the VIP lounge with the guys who I discover are actually a death metal band called All Shall Perish (who were on tour with the Red Shore if anyone heard about the awful accident that resulted in the death of the driver/merch guy and singer). We take advantage of the free things, mildly inappropriate discussions occur, messes are made, the paying VIPs look a little perturbed and it's a little funny. And it turns out we're all seated in the same row on the plane to SFO. WTF, right?

So this is what we do. This is how it goes. Sometimes the simplest things that come from nowhere, the ones I expect the least that just creep up and happen, that I couldn't have forced into existence, make my life amazing. And here I am realising that I don't really know myself so well these days. I'm not always sure what I want, what goals to work backwards from. But every time I figure out something I want, it's amazing. And every time something else happens on the way there, it's incredible. I'm putting up trellises and waiting for vines now. Whatever is supposed to happen will always happen.

...on a quiet stretch of I-5...

Last night at the school holiday party I saw two of my former teachers' panties because they flipped up their skirts on stage. Both said "bad girl". Entirely unrelated to seeing teacher panties, I am moving back north. The time has come, friends, and I am beyond stoked. That's the official word. Don't ready the guest bed unless you need a new roommate.

Also, I'm fixated on Fugazi's The Argument lately. Somehow I didn't ever look into it when I was first introduced to Fugazi the year after that record came out, and then "Full Disclosure" came on last.fm and afterwards there wasn't one other song I could listen to without being frustrated. So I bought the record and it is beyond rad.