On and off and on again

Now, this is unusual. For the first time in years, I'm up before my dad.

It used to always be this way, in the old days, when I was little. Whenever I stayed at his house on the weekend, it'd be me up and out of bed at around 7:30, and him lumbering out at about 10. This morning, despite him having had eight hours of sleep and having had only six myself, I'm here and he's in bed. I feel like I should be watching Nickalodeon or playing NiGHTS on the Sega Saturn. I feel like my cat should come running up to me, but she's gone. Funny how these things stick in our brains like glue.

I went out for sushi with my cousin Lisa and my friend Alex the other day, and after getting coffee and walking around Green Lake, we dropped Lisa off at her house. She is the owner of one of my cat's kittens. My cat gave birth to those seven kittens on a green blanket on my bed while I was a sleeping five-year-old. I can still remember waking up with my mother beside me explaining things.

I miss my kitty. I miss her a lot. This was the first time that I'd seen one of her babies since her death last year. It was strange. Figaro, who was originally named Boots by my five-year-old self, resembles my kit-kit-kitty (I used to call that out the door at night and she'd come) in a lot of ways. The coloring is different, but her facial structure and her eyes are almost identical. And she has the same weird bald spot right in front of her left ear. My aunt suspects it's the breed. What breed? My cat was a calico, and she gave birth to the most diverse collection of kittens you could imagine. In any case, it was strange. I felt like one of those people in the movies who's lost their loved one, and so swears protection and devotion to their child. And I knew all the places she'd like to be ruffled and stroked, because they were the same ones my cat liked. It was good. A sort of "life goes on" moment.

Yesterday was my dad's birthday. (And Harry Potter's and J. K. Rowling's!) We went hiking in the mountains with Granddad and Cristina. We only go hiking about once a year, but it's always so lovely. I truly believe that the Pacific Northwest is one of the most beautiful places in the world. I've flown into a lot of places now, checking out the scenery on the landing, and the only sight that can, in my mind, compare to Washington State, the Evergreen State, is the sunlit Swiss Alps. It really is a beautiful place to live. (Or to visit, as I seem to insist upon.) We stopped for lunch on a rock facing Mount Rainier, and fed a chipmunk who boldly accepted almonds from our fingertips. Last year there were grey birds who would land on your outstretched arm and eat trail mix from the cup of your palm. That's amazing. Nature is cool.

I miss taking science. I might take some science in college. I guess I'll have to, for the biological background of psychology. Tragically, I also found out that I must take a placement test in mathematics, and looking at the sample questions, I may as well spread my arms and expose my heart so that the stake of Another Year of Math can be driven in to spill my blood. I abhor math, beyond sophomore trig, which is what this would be. Oh, shut up, Catherine; you said you wanted more of a challenge.

Two days ago was my first-cousin-once-removed's wedding. It was held at her home in Duvall, which is, coincidentally, the very city in which last weekend's medieval faire was located. So the scenery around her cute little log cabin looks like something from a fantasy story. It was so pleasant, being out in nature. Once again, I felt deeply grounded and centered and at peace. Maybe like an independent observer...being removed from the hustle-bustle of society, looking at the rest of the world from a distance with curiosity, mild sorrow, and understanding. I want to be here and there. I want to live in a huge city filled with things to do at night. I like places that are open 24 hours a day, so that whenever I feel the spontaneous urge, I can go out at night and encounter light and other life. Then again, I want to see the stars and hear the crickets and the leaves in the breeze. But, I imagine I'll live in a city and vacation in the wilderness, since I'm proud and ambitious and since it's not okay to wander around alternating between cities and forests like a character in an RPG.

I looked at people's faces, during the ceremony. All shining with white sun-glow and with serene expressions. We are angels and devils. We can be so beautiful, and so terrible. But people are beautiful when sitting in peace and listening to words about Love. Not sappy naive fairy-tale love, not even necessarily romantic love, just Love. Sometimes, I am almost brought to tears by the fact that, for all our gnashing of teeth and thrashing and lashing out, we can sit quietly and our faces can shine radiantly while we hear about nice things like Love.

There was a string quartet there, of college students. They were very interactive with one another while they played, making eye contact and regarding each other with soft smiles. I thought to myself: I would like to try being a member of a group like that. Not a member of a Collective, in which I'm just another worker-bee, but one who contributes but is still necessary. A team small enough so that every piece is vital in enhancing the others and creating the whole. I have, thus far, really only been engaged in individual efforts. I've heard it said that playing in a band takes you on a wave, a high. Yes, I'd like very much to experience, some time, blending into something a little more and still standing out. Working together and interconnected like trapeze artists.

Dad received many birthday wishes. I'm glad.

I'm going to visit Kyle in Michigan for the next few days. But I've been so rotten about updating lately, you might not even know I'm gone.