#squidlyfe

[fictional-seviper]

It's squid kid time.

[illythesquid-blog]

(John Lucero)

[sacrificethemtothesquid]

So this week has been a hell of slog, and my coping method this week seems to have been to spend way too much money on things I don’t explicitly need, but it’s Thursday and almost the weekend and I’m on my second cup of coffee.

 And last night, we went to a concert.

 Mostly these days, I’m into indie rock and folk like the good little hipster I am, but when I was ten, I got a Loreena McKennitt album in my Christmas stocking. Kids latch onto random things, and I latched onto her with a vengeance, and spent the better part of my tweens listening to her on my Robbie Robot cassette player. She didn’t tour for ten years, and when she did, she was always in San Francisco, Seattle or Vancouver, B.C., and I could never scrape up the money to go.

And then suddenly, she’s coming to Portland, and then we’re sitting fifty feet away from her, and it’s amazing and weird and transcendent and bizarre, and the whole time I’m imagining little proto-Squid – the damp, seething ball of teenage resentment who didn’t know she’d someday be Squid, who called herself La Dragon and wore too much eyeliner and tried to pretend that being in pain was somehow the same as sophistication – sitting next to me, and I just wanted to hug her and rock her and tell her that this was what life was going to be. All those years of listening to Skellig on repeat, and then hearing it live, with Husbandthing beside me…

 It’ll all be okay. It’s always okay. It gets better, and no one knows what “better” is going to look like, but you get there eventually.