the swirl

Voicelessness and despair aside--snarky I know--it's been an insanely busy week.
Last Thursday I had the pleasure of ushering with a good friend on opening night for Homo for the Holidays. It's a deliriously demented and good-natured drag show featuring Ben DelaCreme and the DeLouRoue troupe of performers. This was my third year and probably the best so far. Cookie--call me. Mmmph.
The next night was a friend's holiday party, neighbors hanging out over Prosecco and treats. I made some new friends and may have a date to learn how to make bagels.
After that came a double-Xmas party-whammy. First a corporate affair down in Pioneer Square. A tad underwhelming but generous. Points deducted for someone's plus-one who wouldn't shut up about penis. (Seriously?) Then, thanks to Zipcar, a quick jaunt out to Bothell to a friend's annual bash. Catch-up time with old pals, a couple of Miller High Lifes, and out the door.
Sunday--you guessed it, more! Back to HftH, but this time with friends and a front row table. We sipped Tin Table cocktails and enjoyed the show.
Monday an after-work happy hour and some of the town's best nachos with a former employer and co-workers. My liver is begging for mercy at this point.
I have a couple days' break and then bunch of friends gathering for Dina Martina, a certain teen-ager's ballet recital, and then a Hannukah bash.
I feel lucky and tired but mostly lucky.
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On a more somber note, a good pal is struggling in the most profound way. It's a matter of waiting and supporting. I'm scared.