In Seattle (more coincidence)

I am at the airport in front of the window. I met a nice older man who found where we had to go with me. I noticed if he was with me, I got virtually no odd looks and everyone serious. When I went on my own and parted, some of the same people who were strait-faced then started mocking. I thought, to the tune of "What a difference a day makes"..."What a difference a man makes."

Which is too bad but I made my way and quit paying attention.

The train was fine, althouh a little bit late and I made my way through security without a problem except for having to put a few toiletries in a clear bag (I forgot!). Aside from that, I packed light with just one computer bag and a small grocery bag with a few items.

I don't like to take luggage that has to be checked in anymore. If it gets lost, or delayed...I would rather take what I need that I can carry on my person.

I got into Seattle and it was a little bit better. Better than last time at least. I also saw some faces I was glad to see, just because they seemed sincere and I think they maybe believe me a little more.

It wasn't too bad.

I looked up english lawyers who wear wigs and found they and judges wear grey wigs, and this is color I got in my impression last night. I had thought they were supposed to be white, but I saw grey. I thought the face (which was more blurry) looked middle age or older and slightly broad with possible jowls but not dramatic. He had a stiff upper lip or determined look about him.

Anyway, I was just thinking, I wonder if this airport is where my great-uncle died or if that's on a Boeing site. Probably Boeing.
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I closed my laptop after writing this much at around 12 p.m., and then turned to the man behind me to ask if knew which direction my gate was. We then started started talking. He sells to Boeing. I said, "Oh! then do you know if this site here is where they did test flights?" because it came to mind and he said here and at another site but probably in this time, it was done here. So I was possibly looking out the window in the direction of my great-uncles crash and this came to mind.

And the man I turned around to was the right person to ask, I guess. The other strange thing was that when I first saw him, and didn't even talk to him, I thought of the name Richard but this Richard reminded me, for some reason, of Dick Whittemore. Or, it's possible I got "Richard"--this man's name and then subconsciously made the other connection. This guy also knew French well. He sells planes to different countries. Knows a little about local stuff. Went to school for aeronautics.

Anyway, I then went to a Starbucks and sat down and the song that came on was "Hallelujah". The version I first heard on the East Coast. A few of the men already here almost acted tearful or like they knew I was a little bit, because it's such a beautiful song and references David as well, which I was thinking about last night. Then, I wonder if anyone can read my mind and see the beautiful choreography that I see sometimes with music or art. Because torwards the end, I saw this beautiful, beautiful interpretive dance by one woman. That was the part which made me almost feel like crying. Aside from the song in general. I saw these arms, in my mind's eye, of how I would dance if I were wanting to dance to this song. My arms up and around and I started to see it from an art video perspective and then saw this woman bending back gracefully, backwards from the waist and arms going back. Arms up over the head and then sort of rolling back as she is bending all the way back, back arched up towards the sky and still standing. It was beautiful--sort of worshipful.

I didn't tear up though. Controlled.

Also, this woman I sat across from on the train, I think was shocked I picked out who she reminded me of after only a few words. She actually startled, like how did I catch on so quick and how did I know?

She was like my cousin Char. And as time passed, she did and said more things which confirmed, this was who she was like, but I got it before hardly a word out of her mouth. Like some kind of psychic game of charades. She had a very cute little girl with her and instantly, when I saw how she looked (the little girl) at the cell phone and how focused she was--I saw this unusually high intelligence in that little girl and then found out she was only 2. She reminded me of my son in how close and affectionate we were, and happy and curious, and I saw this intensity in her eyes. Her mom said she was American and Mexican but she really looked sort of Hungarian or maybe Romanian for some reason. I also thought she looked a little like I had looked in a few childhood photos my parents have of me, in a coat with fur trim, by a van.

This song on now is Leonard Cohen's Dance Me To The End Of Love and it sort of sounded eastern european or french with the accordian at the beginning. The other one that came on which made me tear up so I had to distract myself was Sarah McLaughlin's "Arms of An Angel" which always takes me back to jail in Canada, without my son, and this guy who kept saying, "Sing to me!" and then, "Shut up!" and then "Will you sing that song again?"