Short post. Tired.
I’ve been counting a lot of ‘lasts’ lately. Last time watching TV in my house. Last time eating at my dining table. Last time sleeping in my own bed.
Tomorrow morning when I get up, I will sit on my couches for the last time. My nice couch, I’m gifting to my sister; my hand-me-down couches have been sold. I won’t have much time for the last sit, as I’m subbing all day tomorrow. Easy money. Then I’m attending a party in my honor at KJo’s. The following day, Saturday, is Moving Sale, Part Deux: Revenge of the Dishes.
I’ve been quietly going on a culinary victory lap of Seattle, eating at restaurants for (maybe) the last time, and trying places I’ve always wanted to go but never got the chance. Yesterday I went to Kuaui Family Restaurant, finally using that gift certificate that Auntie Pat gave me in 2000. I asked if they would still accept it, and they said yes, of course… Auntie Pat passed away five or six years ago, they said. May she rest in peace.
The gift certificate was for $15. Use it all, because we can’t give you change! So I ordered the pork lau lau, and then used the rest of the money for some cucumber kimchi and fried oysters. They said they planned to keep the gift certificate as a keepsake, since it has Auntie Pat’s signature on it. I love Hawaiian foks, they make me feel so at home. That’s aloha.
I’ve been to plenty of other places to eat in the last few days, ever since I switched to paper plates. I want to do the last load of dishes tomorrow, so everything will be ready to go on Saturday morning.
Cowsin C suggested that I beef up my craigslist ‘for rent’ ad with some more pictures. I should have thought of that a week ago, when the place was all clean and I had furniture. Now the furniture is all but gone, and the stuff I haven’t sorted through yet is on piles on the ground. My living room is just a staging area, the on-deck-circle for the stuff that’s going next.
Tomorrow night I will be camping on the floor in a sleeping bag; my sister will bring her sleeping bag too, and it will be a sleepover in an empty house. Just like the day they gave me the keys to this place in March of 2004. We had a sleepover then, too, and I was so excited to have my own place, my first house.
Tomorrow night, and afterward, it will still be my house, but instead of excitement, I’ll be feeling anxiety about getting my stuff all cleared out, getting my bags packed. Anxiety about China: what if my coworkers are assholes? What if I don’t learn Chinese? What if I come back after a year in China and beg for my old job back… will I still be able to afford my own empty townhouse?
Last night I dreamt my sister and I were walking quickly through a confusing building; she got ahead of me, as she sometimes does, and then the lights went out and there was an earthquake. A long one. I called for her, but she was gone. When the earth started shaking, I went to find her, trying to use my cell phone as a light, but for some reason, the light wasn’t working. I tried to call her, but the automated message said, “You are all gay, pull the emergency cord.” As I cursed the unhelpful and unnecessarily homophobic phone company, I noticed people running by, pulling emergency cords in the walls. Finally, my sister found me, trying to get light from her cell phone as well. Then we evacuated the building.
Exhausted. More tomorrow.