and it's only a matter of whom, and it's only a matter of when

Quite an up-and-down weekend.

I went to Port Townsend for Halloween, reasoning that a scavenger hunt on little girl bikes would be more my style than a sweaty dance party in someone's basement. Rounding the bend on the bus where I could first see the paper mill spouting pollution into the air, I breathed a sigh of relief. (I then hesitated to inhale again, as the people I was sandwiched between on the bus both reeked of cigarette smoke.) But it was like seeing the first landmark of town, and it felt like coming home.

How did that happen? I lived in PT for two months this summer, and it feels more like home to me than Seattle does, even though I've lived here for more than two years now. But really - it was wonderful. I've been feeling particularly homesick these past couple weeks (mostly due to the flu; I always miss my mom when I'm sick), and I needed home. PT came to the rescue. I felt so welcomed, so missed...I'd only told one person that I was coming, so I got to surprise everyone else, and they were all happy to see me. What a beautiful feeling.

But then I had to leave again. I don't like leaving! I think I belong there. Even though I get completely fed up with their hippie crap, I love the openness, the generosity, the sincerity of the sentiment of "the more, the merrier." I need the small town. I need friendly.

Then there's the distress (or a new word I came up with today: distraughtion. Use it. It's gonna be a thing.) of being stupid and knowing it and feeling inevitable. I hate it when I don't want something to happen and then it does. How's that for a mood reversal?

Mostly, I'm tired of discovering things about myself that I don't need to know. I never used to think of myself as someone with low self-esteem, but it keeps slapping me in the face. So much of what I do is driven by my need for approval, for positive affirmation. When did that happen? And when do I grow out of it?

Let's get back on the positive. Things I love about PT:
--people playing random background music all the time
--the way the rain sounds during the night
--the sound of the church bells
--friends who are so excited to see me that they pick me up when they hug me
--absurdly frank conversations
--streets named after presidents and trees
--Water Front Pizza.

Still in a funk. What am I waiting for?

Love always,
molly