So very happy to have seen the adorable and incredibly talented Pat Hull (www.pathullmusic.com) last night, along with the many darling Chico peeps who accompanied him. It made me kind of wistful and nostalgic for the creative community forged in the weirdness of such a small place as that hometown of ours. The space was funny, a basement in a house complete with a tended bar, though the bar only served Pabst out of a keg and it hurt my belly to force down the aluminum taste of that stuff. I fell into the usual way, with too much inebriation making me awkward and sat by myself for awhile, until I got to the point where I just wanted to dance and made Em dance with me. But as sometimes happens, I got carried away with my enthusiastic moving and hit my mouth hard against her head and cut my lip. Seems okay today but I had blood in my mouth when I went to bed. Pat was kind to give me a CD before I left and in the morning I listened to his pretty voice and the angelic “True Love” choir comprised of all these people that I adore and miss so much. Erin and Lucas, wherever you are, I want to see you all the time, and I want meet baby Mo as I know I love him already.

Met Em for brunch at Cricket for gossip and then a nice walk in the Springtime sun peeking out of the clouds. Soon a walk to my Powell’s for a book- I finished the first part of 2666 and totally loved it but am kind of stuck now and my easily distracted brain is already searching for something new. I’ve been re-reading pieces of Pride and Prejudice nights before I fall asleep and taking a lot of comfort in my favorite little love story but maybe I should indulge the emotional masochist in me a little bit less and try on something that has nothing to do with romance. My problem is, if there’s no romance, I can barely interest myself in anything. And really, every good story is kind of a love story.

I found this old barely begun blog recently, after receiving some kind of spooky email that had a link to it. Strange unexpected things have been happening lately, in a good way, and I've been trying to pay attention and pull meaning out of these little oracles, just for the fun of it. The past has been reaching out to me, and I think I could have a lot to learn by letting it catch me and not pushing it away.

Something that is nice to remember, that seeing some old friends lately and listening to them has brought to the surface:
It's worth it to indulge big-hearted messy feelings and share them with people who want to know you.

I forget to make the effort to really be with people, to let myself know them and let them know me, and I let myself be a lot more sad than I need to be. But trying to allow life in has yielded so much fun lately:

Saw an old friend play the sweetest natured show ever, that reminded me how much potential there is to make things that are whole-hearted, uncompromised, and uncynical.

Auggie and I staying up until 2 am; he was making me laugh by telling me this story about seeing this transformation of the persona of Rickie Lee Jones. It was in a concert in San Diego this time that she played two shows in one day, where she apparently sipped through a bottle of whiskey through the whole afternoon show and was very pleasant and sweet, and then, wasted, heckled the audience through the whole evening.

Rob and I shoulder dancing to "Push It" in Tiga, lit by candlelight, when Nicole played it for us.

The funny magic of "Peanut Duck" catching on all the time.

Wonderfully surprised to meet on the street outside of Jam a band of old friends from Chico who are playing a show a mere block from my house. They met me with many big hugs and invitations, so great, so weird. This place is so much smaller than I understand.

It feels so good to know: that the many complications of life are a wealth, that I can dig into them and build upon them and cherish them for what they are and that will be my way through them.