first post, last days in Seattle

What I really want to do is sit around and look at people on MySpace while eating peanut butter with a spoon here in Chicago. What I'm going to try and do instead to write about saying goodbyes to my fair Emerald City. My hometown Seattle. My lovely place.

My goodbyes were sort of divided up into groups. The first "group" to say goodbye to was Plymouth House. (remember that old blog? ha ha ha ha. wacky plymouth house.) Alex was having her goodbye dinner- the last of the companions from my "generation" of companions. It was an amazingly great party, and of course very sweet and a little sad. We all had a fun time destroying the toucan bird pinata, which had come to be a mascot for the house.

Alex drove me home that night, and my last memory of the house is Solalesh standing on the porch waving goodbye. Goodbye my friend.

I had to say goodbye to Seattle Neutrino Project. I had decided to stay for Labor Day weekend to be able to perform with them at Bumbershoot. I think standing with the cast after our second show, being presented with a cake and a goodbye card, was the first time when it really really really sunk in that I was leaving. Comedy people are often the most fun people to hang out with, but Neutrino people are also some of the nicest. I feel I've grown as an improviser, AND I have all these new friends. who I love and who are amazing and talented. goodbye neutrino.

Two days ago I had to return my keys to Seattle Children's Home. I was lucky because the kids I wanted to see most and say goodbye to most were on-unit. That was so hard. Because when you leave SCH, you LEAVE. You sever contact with all the kids, you never see them again. So there are these kids, and they were all sitting in this room sort of watching TV and playing games calmly, and you want to say goodbye in a meaningful way. How do you just sit there and tell them, "I'm leaving, but I'll always remember you guys, because you are all wonderful people deep down, and I'll always be hoping that you make something out of yourself and forget this horrible place, but hopefully remember some of the peole here who worked with you and cared about you." when you have about two minutes, and they're all tough kids anyway who want to seem tough. My favorite kid gave me a hug and said he'll miss me. And I'll miss him too. One of my supervisors gave me a hug, and said thanks for my work, and told me not to cry when I started crying in the back office. Goodbye seattle children's home.

The Overture had been my home for the past month, but I felt like I belonged there. Sue and Maya and Davida are amazing. Being able to have a place to really feel comfortable in is hard work, but they made it easy. Which made it so much harder to leave, of course. Damn them. Damn those fun hump nights and impromptu dance parties. Goodbye Overture.

I always feel sorry for people who hated the people at their high school. Because the best people i know in the world went to Franklin, and they live on capital hill in an apartment building with a silly name. Nary and Jesse and Jordan taught about loving pies and donuts, and dancing, and laughing, and have been true friends and have been so good to me. We always seem to seperate for long periods of time- which become non-existant when hanging out together again. So goodbye for now, franklin quakers. I'll see you around and we can take more on-line quizzes together.

My family- that's always tough. Probably one of the best things about Dance-Off is that I got to see Ben on a twice weekly basis. The boy is brilliant and amazing, and I am so lucky to have him as a brother. Goodbye Ben. Goodbye Mom, who I know is so worried about this trip that I'm going on. Which I appreciate and know is only out of love. Mom, I'll be ok, I promise. Goodbye Martin, thanks for driving me to the airport at 6:30 am yesterday. Goodbye family.

Goodbye Seattle. You are an amazing city, filled with amazing people and things and trees and water and mountains and you were the place where I was born. and i love you but you know, baby, sometimes these things just don't work out. I gotta sew my wild oats. I gotta see what other cities out there have to offer. And if it's meant to be I'll be back, baby, I promise. This ain't the end. It's only the beginning. (and then cue the intro music used in Grease and we rock out until there's a freeze frame of me jumping up in the air or something. and then credits roll.)