March 25, 2005

Today I am finally level 2. I know its probably not a big deal to most of the noders out there, but its sort of been a goal of mine since I signed up. I've wanted to be able to vote on writeups ever since I got here. Today, I've finally hit level 2, so within 24 hours I'll be able to function as a real member of this community.

If there's a few things I've learned in my few months here on e2, its the following:

• Never node about noding (breaking that one right now.)
• Writing daylogs is a surefire way to drop your merit (... Breaking that one as well)
• Proofread at least three times as much as you would on an essay you would turn in for class. (Yeah, its a daylog. I'm going to break that one as well.)
• Don't make lists (oops again)
• Downvotes are more informative than upvotes, because people who downvote you are more likely to tell you what's wrong with your writing.
• Finding an area of expertise helps the reputation of your nodes tremendously.
• Even in daylogs, never get whiny.
• When writing daylogs, hide them.
• Learn when you've gone too far on a list.
• Its easier to maintain a higher rep with factual nodes than basing your rep entirely on other's opinions.

My plans for level three? I plan on taking it a lot slower. Since I finally feel like I'm a member of the community rather than just a node grunt striving to become one, I can relax. I plan on writing more factual nodes. I plan on shifting my focus more towards music, as those seem to be my best writeups. Furthermore, since I'm no longer working towards a goal of numbers, I'll begin weeding out my crappy writeups that nobody likes anyway.

I want to fall through the sky and never ever land

Sometimes I want to fall. I want to lie in a cloud, feel it wrapping over me, and sink through it. And fall. I want to fall through the sky and never ever land. I want to feel my hair whip my face. I want to feel gravity pulling me down, slowly at first as I hit cloud after cloud, but then faster and faster until everything around me is a blur, the birds, the planes, the stars and all I will feel is my hair whipping my face and my bare arms over my heavy stomach. My heart will race and I will be breathless. My legs will be outstretched and my feet, naked. I will feel the resistance tantalize first my spine then envelope my waist and close over my face, my breasts, my stomach. I will hear the sky and smell the sky. I will see only what I want to see and think only what I want to think, but I shall fall and fall and never land.

This morning when I walked outside, there was a drunken dwarf sleeping on my doorstep. This person was so far gone into homelessness or substance abuse or the combination, I couldn't tell if they were a man or a woman. The pavement around them was dotted with the pattern of saliva that means someone has been trying to throw up or trying to avoid it. But a thoughtful person had laid a package of peanut butter crackers between the miniature puddles.

I am not thoughtful. I shook my head and stepped over them.

Suburban Olympia, WA has gotten too strange for me, so I am relocating to urban Seattle. Not just because of the dwarf problem.

I'm going through one of those weird times astrology loves taking credit for, where some skeleton key combination of planets has aligned and created a gravity that acts on me alone, pulling me in directions I would not have anticipated, putting unexpected things, opportunities, and bums in my path.

It's only been a few weeks since I got serious about moving, but here I am. I have a job pretty much in hand, an apartment all but settled on. Of course, nothing is packed, but there's no way I was going to do that until the very last minute, anyway. Although... I guess this is the very last minute.

Next weekend I may be immersed in boxes and U-Haul logos. It's time to say goodbye to weird, insular Oly. To the clubs and coffeeshops and bars where I came of age. To the big beautiful building my world used to revolve around, when it housed Sunday Night Eighties Night. To the toasted everything bagel with cream cheese and tomato, please, that I lived on throughout my last two years of college. To the memories of my first real love, my first real job, and my first real understanding of myself.

To the homeless dwarves.