sunday church is closed for now

Out of all the covid-19 related closures of the week, this one really hurts. Return to us godspeed, Re-Bar's Place!
(PS Flammable has moved online to Twitch for the duration. 🔥🔥🔥)

streaming Saturday night

Trying to follow the Governor's order to stay in and away from crowds, I stocked up on essentials on Saturday afternoon--nacho ingredients, a vegan cheesecake--and walked home in a cold wind.
(The grocery store in Ballard was a hive of activity, with entire families roaming the produce department, shelves empty of pasta and bread, and a worried-looking cashier wiping down the debit card keypad after every transaction.)
It was date night, and so my partner and I worked on his unemployment budget, chefed up nachos and considered our entertainment options--Netflix, Hulu, YouTube. We settled on the Seattle Symphony's broadcast of a Mahler symphony (the lead flutist or flautist or fluter or whatever you call them was wonderful), and later, an ill-advised viewing of a really bad Will Smith superhero movie (the kind of bad where you writhe around on your chair groaning at each new stereotype, but don't quite have the energy to turn it off).
This morning, a bus ride on a coach that was surprisingly full, although riders spaced themselves out pretty evenly. Another quick grocery store stop, a Whole Foods with seemingly zero sanitation measures and fully stocked shelves.
Every overheard conversation revolves around "the virus." Who's out of work. (all our restaurant and music friends) Is it still okay to go to bars? (no) Is the USA going to be Iran or Korea in this scenario? (remains to be seen)
Everyone mocks the toilet paper hoarders but I don't blame them.
We don't know where this is heading and I for one am not interested in a full-on quarantine without sufficient rolls of t.p. on hand.

apart but together

Social distancing.
Flatten the curve.
Terms I'd never heard of a week ago and now are part of daily vocabulary.
I haven't been to the office in just over a week nor have a huge contingent of Seattle office workers. Team meetings are on Zoom, all of us in our living rooms or spare bedrooms, working away as best we can, with occasional cat or child visitors popping in.
The stores are empty of toilet paper, beans, and any sanitizing agents.
So many Seattle restaurants have closed that you now go online to check who is still open, if you need to order takeout.
Most art and music gatherings are cancelled but The Seattle Symphony and punk Belltown bar Screwdriver both are offering up live shows this weekend online.
A family member in Canada reports that border crossings to the US mean a 14-day quarantine upon return, so we won't be seeing them for awhile.
Other family members are for some reason on a cruise out of the country, and we are anxiously awaiting their safe and healthy return.
My e-mail inbox is jammed with daily notices from travel sites, hair salons, property managers, hotels, cupcake stores--everyone notifying their covid-19 status and how they're handling it.
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The upshot for me, as a relatively privileged person with an office job and access to grocery stores and Netflix, is a few minor inconveniences. For my friends in the food and service industries, they have either been abruptly laid off or working severely reduced hours. Those in the medical field are working long hours and trying to be safe.
I signed up for a Seattle-based community help group to bring groceries or supplies to seniors or those who can't get out and about.
The few public conversations I have feel meaningful and fraught.
At the tiny coffee shop near me, where the owner roasts her own beans and calls me kitten, the one table has no chairs and a sign that says, "Eat it and Beat it."(She also gave advice on getting SNAP lined up now vs after April 1 when Voldemort has implemented new restrictions.)
With each new closure or restriction, I wonder what's next. I wish the feds were doing a better job--the lack of testing is criminal but we have a lot of smart scientists and local officials working their hearts out right here in my own city.
I know we will get through this. Will we emerge stronger, healthier, wiser? Time will tell.

we are all

hard to know

It's hard to know how much to worry at the moment.
When I say everything is shit, I don't think it's hyperbole.
Sleep is a rare commodity. I spend hours awake each night with the 3 a.m. worries, wondering what will get us first? The climate? The pandemic? The evil-mongering baddies?

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(I'm guessing the insomnia hits at 3 a.m. because I made a pact with myself never to look at the clock in the middle of the night).
But you know what I mean.
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Trying to take proper precautions and do more yoga and make more positive changes and spread a little humanity where I can. I thanked a guy out picking up litter today. Made conversation with the super talkative co-op clerk (he compared corgi butts to wool pants). Didn't rage at the guy bringing an obviously neurodivergent and yelling kid into the workspace.
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The small things may be all we have right now, but they are something.

scribbles of my life

I've been organizing old journals and diaries, back to when I was a teenager.
Re-reading moments of tumult. Laughing at my own sass.
I don't know this person. In my mind, she is someone else.
Time to get reacquainted.

o hai

Been doing lots of fun things lately.
Lots to share and very soon.