On Friday, my co-worker Shawnee and I were nearly killed twice. It was almost like the good ol' days when I worked at the hospital and rode my bike to work every day and always had at least one near death experience per day. First, we were doing a coffee run. Shawnee and I are both hopelessly addicted to caffeine. Down in Renton, it is necessary to drive to get coffee unless you want it to take you a half hour to walk down to Metro Espresso and back. We drove into some strip mall type deal and a van totally breezed right through a stop sign and nearly t-boned the passenger door (with me sitting right next to it). Then later, as we were driving home, a tractor trailer decided at the last possible moment before going off an exit, that it didn't want to exit, and so swerved right into our lane and almost sideswiped us. I like riding the bus sometimes. I feel very safe in the bus.

After work, Shawnee dropped me off in Rainier Valley which is a lot faster for me getting home than it would be to take the Renton buses up to the tunnel etc. And it also happened to be right by where I used to work. I taught ESL to a group of Cambodians at an aparment complex my first year in Seattle. They were a great group of folks and I miss them all and I miss teaching them. So I decided to walk up and see if I saw anyone I knew, and who should be there but MNE!? MNE was one of the kids I taught my second year in Seattle at the at-risk youth center. He was in a world of trouble when I knew him. He was kind of one of those stupid criminals. He kept doing dumb shit that was getting him in trouble - carrying cocaine around on his person (which he intended to sell for some extra money - he didn't use coke), jacking cars, riding in cars he knew were jacked, wandering onto property that he was specifically banned from being on as part of his parole. MNE is also the son of one of my students at the apartment complex. I was especially close to him because he was also under my direct supervision as part of his summer job. I helped him study for his GED and helped him pass the writing section and was tutoring him in math when my AmeriCorps term ended. Anyway, it was great to see him. The first thing he said to me was "I been staying out of trouble! I swear!" acting as if I'd come to give him a lecture or something. He has actually been staying out of trouble, mostly. He's trying to get back into community college and to learn to be a mechanic. I could also tell that he wasn't on as many drugs anymore because he was able to talk more or less coherently. He took me in to see his dad who had more or less forgotten all of his English, which overall isn't too surprising considering the guy is 80. His dad didn't seem especially excited to see me, but then I'm not sure if he could remember me that well either. I feel guilty for not visiting more often, but I'm never "in the neighborhood" because... well it isn't a place I have reason to visit other than to see them. I'm bad enough about visiting Abby who only lives two blocks up the hill. But I did end up recalling most of the Khmer that I learned that year. I know many useful phrases such as "I sit on the chair." "How are you? I am fine." "Teacher is teaching." and "I am 27 years old." I can also count from 1 - 39 and from 100 - 139. I can say scissors, pot, and matches. Send me to Cambodia! I'm ready to be an interpreter!

When I got home, I had a bunch of good news waiting for me in the mailbox. I am now officially a notary public for the state of Washington. Run right over with anything you want notarized! I can make it official.

Also, Bookstoreboy2 and wife are going to be staying at the cabin in the mountains again this summer. I'm going to try to go up there for a weekend this summer and hike around with them. I'm so excited!!! I'm really glad that he won't be disappearing into France just yet. And I can now stop singing "Come Back From San Francisco."

I also went bowling on Friday night with Mrs. Roboto & husband in Ballard. And hooo wee! There were a LOT of hot tamales there! Let me tell you! So many cute boys! And they weren't kissing each other either! And true to form, I didn't go up and talk to any of them. I was with a group of folks who run a cruise ship together, so they all knew each other more or less, from the boat. I was trying to psyche myself up to go talk to this one really cute guy (sorry to those of you who have already heard this story) and I was trying to think of a good opening line. I came up with "So, are you one of the boat people?" And I was almost ready to go over and ask him... and then I realized that because he was Asian, he might not take that the way I meant it. So the night ended without me talking to the cute Asian boy because I was too embarassed about what I'd almost said to realize that I could have asked him if he was one of the "cruise ship" people. Alas! But I did end up bowling over 90 both of my games, which was good. And another cute guy spilled beer on me! Oh, the joys of being around straight men.

Saturday was party day. I went to SBD's birthday party. I wore makeup. I always feel like a little girl playing with mommy's makeup whenever I put any on. Either that, or I feel like a clown. I'm not sure if it looks as bad as I think it does, but it's kind of fun to wear anyway. Maybe if I get used to bright red lips, they'll start to look natural to me.

And then there was the houseparty with the live band. I'm surprised that the cops weren't called. I really liked the music. The scene was a good anthropological observation exercise for me. Ok, hipster guys, listen up. The long shaggy 70's haircut is not doing it for you. It makes you look ugly. It is an ugly hair cut. It looks ugly on everyone. You don't need to do it. There are plenty of other hip haircuts you can have that will actually look ok on some people. For the love of all that is holy, lose the mullet. Also, you look like you're having an epileptic seizure when you dance.

Apparently, according to Loud Bob, some guy was trying to hit on me. There was some fratty looking guy standing beside me and during the break between the bands, he said "I'm standing in the wrong place. You can tell I didn't use a lint brush today." referring to the fact that the black lights highlighted every little thread and piece of lint in the place. I looked at him and nodded. Then he went away and didn't come back. If that was indeed his pickup line, what the fuck was I supposed to say to that? "Gee, yeah, that's why I carry my lint brush with me everywhere I go."??? It's ok though, he wasn't my type. I am pretty dense when it comes to being hit on, though. Usually I think that people are just being friendly or that they're secretly making fun of me. Shut up, I know I'm paranoid.

And finally... today I decided that I couldn't leave my house unless it was to do a task that was going to help me clean up my room. So I packed my drycleaning into my backpack and marched down to Broadway. The drycleaner's was closed. So I marched off to get a sandwich and then down to Coffee Messiah for a mexican mocha and then down to downtown for my kid in a candystore experience at Paperhaus and then to the market to see if I could find a good in-season mango and then down to Pioneer Square to see if the stamp man had any new stamps and to pick up a schedule for the May readings at Elliot Bay and then to the International District to look for some gifts for a friend of mine and then to Kiki's for the requisite Kinder Eggs and then... what had I come out for again? Oh yes. Dry Cleaning. Oh my. I just walked all the way from my house to downtown to Pioneer Square to the International District. That's a LOT of walking. So I headed back up to Cap Hill and went grocery shopping, and then cooked myself some dinner. Busy day, huh? And is my room any cleaner? Now do you understand why I've been cleaning my room for the last four months?