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It's been a fun week of seeing old friends and meeting new ones. A handsome someone from Santa Barbara was in town for a day and the old crew got together in the loft at Belltown Pub on a steamy, ninety-something July evening. We took turns standing in front of the fan, misting ourselves with a spray bottle. And, I'll never look at bratwurst in the same way again. My traveling pal's man is in town from Europe and we had a fun night Friday drinking whisky and Fireball with iced coffee and cream. Ms. Hammy and I hung out all Saturday afternoon, shopping at Momo, then grabbing a Car2Go up to the hill, a spicy lunch at Rancho Bravo, and perusing art supplies at Blick. She danced, she sang, she prodded me not to forget her birthday. Later, one of my besties and I hung out with a friend in town from the Bay Area, sharing laughs and Seahawks stories and beers at Five Point--crowded with weary Bite visitors and accompanied by a heavy metal soundtrack. Later, a quick walk down to Shorty's for one more drink, then pretzels and fried cheese curds at Bravehorse. Still later on, my man and I relaxed and caught up at home over with a Manhattan and big band music.
With all this loveliness, I find myself getting whiny, whingey, unpleasantly petty, and then I read the news and it's all bad and I just feel ashamed of myself: drunken criminals rifling through dead passengers' belongings in Ukraine--a friends' sister-in-law passing away after nearly two decades of fighting cancer--unceasing fighting in the Middle East--it's a ghastly time. I worry.
What does one do? Can one do?
Why am I so lucky? Are we unredeemable, lost without all hope?
It all seems so bad. I want to have hope. I want peace.