”Elaine, she’s a psychic. She knows how her kid’s going to be.”

16th St Mall, Denver, CO

I’m in Denver and am thrilled I haven’t lost anything so far.  It’s probably something to do with wearing my phone and wallet in a small pouch around my neck. I look like a doof, I’m sure. But it’s worth it.  I’m hanging out with M’s cousins while he attends a meeting. Then we’re off to discover pinball machines.  It’s around 70 F and sunny.  Much better than the snow at home.

I have no idea what we had for lunch, but it was delicious.  It was Indian food, but I forgot to ask further.  I learned as a teen never to decline food from people who invite me into their home.  I offended an African (university student) who was braiding my hair and didn’t realize my error until her son told me she cooked explicitly for my appointment.  I apologized and ate with them, (but I also cried at the same time, and had post-crying hiccups afterward.)

One perk of being a doof:  I learn the shit out of valuable lessons.  Sigh.  It’s barely a perk.  I’m super tired due to being too excited to sleep last night.  My mind is doing aerobics, but my body is whining.  I watched the beginning of Star Wars:  The Last Jedi, when I realized sleep wasn’t happening.  Love it so far.  Spoiler Alert:  I (internally) slammed my foot against the ladder along with the doomed rebel to get that damn remote to fall.  I bet every Jedi (dreamer) who saw it did, too.  The catch and press scene was brilliant.

Star Wars TLJ

Also, I helped General Leia Organa slap Poe for his ruthless priorities.  The timing might be a bit off for the humorous quips, though.  Or, more likely, I just wasn’t ready to laugh after all that loss.  And I have this bizarre need to touch Supreme Leader Snoke’s skin.  He’s scarier than Emperor Palpatine.  He also appears fragile except when furious.  Weird how that increases menace.

I asked M if he thought weed would help me tolerate intensely exciting movies, but he said it would make it much more overwhelming for me.  So I’ll be sticking with patiently waiting for the version I can control with a remote.  (And tossing it up and catching it while pressing pause, like some rebel in a galaxy far, far away.)  ✌🏽


“And then today I missed a train, went outside and caught a bus. It never fails!”

Star Wars The Last Jedi attempt one failed.  I didn’t even make it to my seat.  Fortunately, the theater manager allowed me to trade my ticket for a later showing.  M. stayed to watch the rest.  I’m glad about that part because I prefer going to the movies alone.  I did manage to exorcise some of the excess excitement.  Attempt two is scheduled for Sunday.

I’m hoping to make it to my seat and remain there for at least twenty minutes this time.  But if I don’t, it’s cool.  The odds are good I’ll get as many attempts as I need to see the entire film.  I wore my Star Wars Adidas sneakers, Levi’s 501 jeans with an R2-D2 patch sewn (by me) on the back pocket.  Also, a General Leia Organa t-shirt, and my Adidas Star Wars track jacket, (it has Luke, Han Solo, Chewbacca, and C-3PO flying in a giant sneaker on the back.)

I got several compliments from both children and adults.  Next time, I’m not going to do that, as I think the attention led me to psyche myself out and panic.  But it was still nice to see people light up when they saw we have a mutual obsession.  I’m off to read. 💜

“Jerry, George, this is Stan the Caddy.”

I’m thrilled in anticipation of December 15, 2017.  I’m so excited I’m trembling.  I’ll bet Carrie Fisher’s daughter is feeling all the feels from watching this, too.  It’s going to level me in the theater (again.)  The Star Wars films are off the chart for overstimulation.  The soundtrack alone is practically more than I can take, it’s so incredible.  The franchise is deeply embedded in my world and has been since I was a silent child.

Leia Organa was the first (imagined) hero in my world.  Carrie Fisher evolved into a real-life hero while her life trained her like a Jedi.  Thriving with mental illness is very much like Jedi training.  You have to trust in The Force, or you’ll be too tempted to give in to the dark side (self-destruction.)  It’s why being literal-minded is something I treasure, (despite its tendency to annoy others.)

I need to start working out a plan to allow me to see it at the theater.  I’ll break it up into four viewings.  One thing in my favor:  The people who also love Star Wars will be there with me, and none of them made fun of me when I wept silently through half of Star Wars:  The Force Awakens.  Of course, I’m going to cry when I see General Leia again.  (It would be weird if I didn’t.)

The last time I was in Denver, I stayed at The Art hotel.  It’s lovely and ideally located in the museum district.  It has some fabulous art installations.  As I was entering with my R2-D2 carryon suitcase in tow, a woman complimented it, stating it was unusual.  The asshole she was with, (some random man) said it’s not unique, it’s intended for children.

I smiled at the woman and ignored the asshole as we got in the elevator.  I hate elevators.  They’re racist/hate detectors.  I despise the ones who freeze in horror when the doors slide open to reveal my beautiful brown skin.  Racists usually opt to wait for the elevator to return rather than sharing it with me.  It’s an incredibly revealing moment I’d prefer not experiencing again.  I’d rather endure three assholes who think Star Wars is a children-only world.

I’m glad I didn’t bother explaining to him how the story scales to the viewer’s comprehension. What was initially mind-boggling fascination becomes nostalgic and corny through older eyes.  But the story continues, and enchantment is renewed with each installment.  Episode I is the only film that made me physically ill in the theater.  The pod racing was so loud, I hurled, and my brother had to help me outside to recover.  Good times.

I love having an epic experience in waiting.  It makes me giddy every time I remember.  I switched routes for Meals on Wheels.  It’s unbelievable how challenging it is for me to navigate a new neighborhood with time constraints.  Good thing it’s not snowing yet.  There really ought to be a law regarding continuity of residential addresses, though.  I’m pretty sure I lost a layer of enamel from grinding through that exercise in frustration tolerance.  But you know what?  It’s okay.  Star Wars. 🙃