The 28 to Ballard on a rainy Tuesday night. I sit in the back amongst my people.
The kid beside me--lanky, with a head of dark curls and wide eyes--leans over. "What bus is this?"
"The one we're on? It's the 28."
"Damn." He shakes his head, seems a little amazed. "I thought I got on the 30."
"You know they go totally different places right?"
He shrugs. "I didn't really have any plans tonight anyway."
I have to laugh. "Guess you're going to Ballard."
He laughs too.
I get off a few stops later. "I hope you get where you're going."
He says, confident, "I'm pretty sure I will."
A good friend came out to me this week. Not in a dramatic, Ellen "I'm Gay" fashion, more as a casual aside. As though I alre...
Welp, I'm 10 days into what appears to be an eternal bout of bronchitis; cheerless Dayquil days punctuated with coughing and and snortin...
I ran across these seven tenets this week and immediately felt "YES." One should strive to act with compassion and empathy towar...
Welp, after a half-year experiment in social media, BSP has returned to its blogger roots. I hated Faceborkland, tbh. Sure, it was easier t...