Saturday, March 27, 2010

Soft ears

There’s something so incredible about someone you don't know welcoming you into their house, and the connections you experience even in a short stay. Sometimes it's about my work and who this person already knows me to be, but in this case Ashley doesn't know anything about me. Except that Socket called on the phone and asked for Johnny but Johnny was out of town, and Ashley said I could stay there anyway.

In situations like this, I get nervous about asking for help with my bags, fibromyalgia feels like too much to explain over a phone connection where Ashley can barely hear me. But then at the station when I say something, she actually gets it, asks what I need in the house too. She has this huge great dane who comes right up to you and rubs her head against your chest, her ears are so soft.

I always like Eugene when I visit, the people who I meet. If I wasn't trying to get away from mold, I might move to the Northwest. Except for that seven or eight months every year when you barely see the sun. I never liked the sun at all until I lived in Seattle, rushing outside when the sun peeked beneath the clouds as it was about to set, just to get a glimpse into my eyes, the possibility of escaping that seasonal affective gloom in my head. So no -- I don't think I'll move to the Northwest, but there's something about the slower pace that soothes me, Seattle was the first place where I learned calm.

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