Get ready to leave, motherfucker

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And so begins my travel blog. I haven't left yet, but tonight, after Bumbershoot, is when I have to finally, completely begin to pack everything up and prepare to leave.

I need you so much closer
So come on, come on

Death Cab was, as always, beautiful at Bumbershoot. Also lonely. Once again no one to make out with, eh? No one really at all this time after Nico had to go handle some drama. I feel like I need someone so much closer. Though I'm not sure who that should be at this point. What a silly--or, perhaps, perfect?--time to leave for the other side of the world.

I also went to the One Pot bumbershoot dinner where everyone who ate had to contribute something based around the year and revolutionary spirit of 1968. I shared some ideas about revolution and counter-culture and read a paragraph from the story I've been writing about Paris in 1968. I almost cried several times in front of 80 people. But in a good way. It was fabulous, but I wish I had been able to do it at some place and time when we all could have been more leisurely about it; there were so many people I wish I had been able to talk to! So much, so many ideas to share.

So fucking close to leaving I can taste it. ...okay, no I can't. It might be scary how mentally unprepared I am to leave. Or perhaps instead of "mentally unprepared," I should say..."unsentimental?"

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