I mean in my neighborhood in SF people wear all sorts of colors but mostly that light blue that the nineteenth and twentieth street gangsters go for but the hipsters at least wear muted clothing. I guess though only aging rockers wear all black these days and even then we sometimes branch out into more practical summer colors and fabrics. right now I have on a wicking gray tshirt from rei and I don't feel like I am in drag. I must be getting old.
the weather is turning though and I think tonight I might be able to wear the long-sleeved Nice Shirt I brought in case it cooled a bit. it seems only to be in the high 70F's rather than mid 80s and it's clouding up and I guess tomorrow it is supposed to rain which it must do at least once while I am here or I won't feel like I actually made it to Seattle.
lunch with my uncle was cool. I have to say that of all my relatives he and I seem to have the most immediate empathetic understanding of one another. I do get my stressed and worried genes from my paternal grandmother and share this with aunt D whom I usually visit while I am here, but the freakshow genes come from my mom's side of the family even though she would be loathe to admit it. dad's family is very concerned with keeping everything moderate and under control, whereas mom's family is littered with casualties strewn left and right and a number of us who have harnessed our, um, creative eccentricities to sometimes constructive ends.
oddly dad's side is the side where all the bipolars live while mom's side is home only to depression but one that is kind of wacked out.
anyway. grandpa was a socialist. somehow I kind of knew this but did not quite recall it. I find this quite interesting. apparently grandma voted democratic while grandpa was alive and then started voting republican until reagan did something that made her mad. she died awhile ago so I don't know what she would have thought of the shrub.
it's interesting that even at 42 I still find it surprising and refreshing that the world at large is expansive beyond my mother's limited view and that I actually have family members all over the spectrum. no one told me about any of this when I was growing up and I was pretty much just overwhelmed by mom's relatives because there were so danged many of them and I hardly knew them so when we visited up here every couple of years I would have to get used to all of them all over again and here I was the sort who preferred to spend hours quietly playing alone. mom was actually quite good at finding ways to keep me from having to interact with people ad nauseum at grandma's house by finding places I could kind of hide. one thing she understood very well about me is that people wear me out after awhile, and there were always tons of kids at grandma's house.
the mocha seems to be taking effect.
on dad's side of the family on the other hand there was but one cousin until I was a little bit older when two more came along. that was it. grandma Elsie's house was always a haven after grandma People's. no extended family to speak of, or at least none that was prone to stop by with little or no notice. besides us few kids was just a small group of calm adults. pathologically calm adults perhaps but calm adults.
see now with the coffee on board if I were not sitting in a cafe I could come up with all sorts of ways to narrate this such that it would fit in with my more *ahem* literary productions but in order to do that I would have to erect a force field and I have been sitting here long enough that I am beginning to get paranoid that I have been here too long and soon should leave in order not to overstay my welcome but it is not like the place is full and people need the tables or that the counter person is glaring at me for using the free internet for hours while drinking one measly coffee drink. if they sold some more interesting things to eat I could eat something but they don't and I've had enough scones and muffins and cookies in the past couple of days. so I'm taking full advantage of their goodwill.
this is an american thing isn't it. I mean in Paris for instance I understand that cafe-sitting is quite the institution and that no one expects you to get up after just an hour.
in any case the social anxiety this all precipitates is a little too strong to allow me to wall myself off from the outside world in order to write anything serious.
the social anxiety comes from dad's side of the family. to stay on-topic.
tonight I am having dinner in ballard. S still has not called me back. drinks are being had at Septieme at 8pm tomorrow and anyone on the friends list in the general vicinity is welcome, nay encouraged, to attend. auditorium and I will be staking out the space at the appointed hour and will, I'm sure, be staying there for a goodly period of time.
must try to think of a way not to drive in rush hour traffic. this may be impossible.