I’m ready for fall. The brisk cold and the hooded sweatshirts. The white noise of rain lulling me to sleep through my open window. The bright red leaves in my school courtyard tumbling to the ground as I walk in to work. The change and the slowing down and the rest and the extra sleeping and the soothing darkness and refreshing cold.

For October, I have lined up 9 shows to see. I have a going away party to go to and some union work to do and at least two volunteer projects to do. There’s one more Sounders game, some movies I want to see and a trip to the aquarium with my teetotaler friends. October will be good.

I’d like for some things to happen, though. I’d like to finish up some house projects, finish up some internet projects, write enough good songs to make a seven inch and I’d like for any of the dates I’ve been on or ladies I’ve talked with (hello, red haired girl, don’t quit on me now!) to pan out into something awesome. All in due time.

Tonight, I worked with a group to do some phone calls to support approval of Washington’s Referendum 71, which reaffirms the law already on the books that guarantees rights for domestic partnerships. I think I’ll go back next week, and not just to talk to the pretty lady there, but to continue doing good. Because it’s the right thing to do. Because it’s what I love doing the most. Because I’m surprisingly good at it.

I’ve also been kicking around this song idea in my head. I watched a jet leave behind water vapor as it heated the air one late summer night and wrote down some lyrics which struck me as particularly poignant. I haven’t played piano at home in a couple weeks because I’ve been working on rally stuff all the time and struggling to catch up with school stuff and I’m basically just too lazy to turn around and play on the other keyboard instead of this one. I found a secret electric piano at school that I’ve been playing after lunch for about five minutes a day, so I’m not giving up. I just haven’t written anything serious. However, as I was walking home from the bus stop, I took 39 seconds to use my phone to record this vocal track of those lyrics I was babbling about up there. Maybe I should write a cappella songs. Maybe I should learn to sing.

A jet liner
cuts the air
in two pieces,
one yours,
the other mine.