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Dangerous Compassions

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We got out the door at 5:18 am to Mom’s wave.  All’s well.  We made it to Barstow panera where I have apple juice and Ming has unsweetened iced tea.  I feel good.  I might see my friend tonight.  I feel worried about mail and we’ll need groceries.  We’ll need rest.

I played ukulele in the car.  I played “Tire Swing” and “Bhaja Mana Ma” over and over and tried playing “Three Little Birds” but was having a hard time hearing myself.  I could hear my singing but not the uke.  I gotta learn to strum harder.

Ming strummed so hard he gave himself a blister on his thumb.  I strum with my fingers.

We stopped in Tehachapi at the steampunk cafe.  Boy do they have good food.  Ming had the french toast and gave me some.

I read the X-Files wikipedia article yesterday.  I loved that show.  I lost track of it over the years.  I was telling Ming and Mom last night how when I was an undergrad freshman year in the dorms, my hallmates would be like, “It’s time for the X-Files!” and would go downstairs to the rec room and watch it together.

I tried watching it one time and it was so scary I was like, “Wtf is this?”  And, “Why would anyone want to watch this?”

It was later that somehow I saw an episode and fell in love with Scully and Mulder.  There was some really creepy stuff but I liked the mythology.  I rented the episodes from Goleta’s independent movie rental store.  Can’t remember now what it was called…but I ended up running into my best friend there one time.  We had been estranged.  She wrote her email address on the back of a Safeway coupon, and the rest is history.

By Laura-Marie

Good at listening to the noise until it makes sense.

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