uh...about May

Did I blink and May barreled past like a semi on the interstate?

It was a month of hard -- and heartbreaking -- work, twelve hour days and rushing to enjoy life in the few hours remaining. 

And also a 1.5 day road trip to the Mississippi Gulf coast, dodging torrents of rain to make the best of it, hitting up thrift shops and a moldering bookstore, arcades and casinos and an amazing Vietnamese bakery and finally enjoying one damp walk along the beach. 

Then, a few days in New York City, to see friends and meet their sweet new baby, an alert four-month-old, eat Mexican food together and laugh; to see NE family and visit the 9/11 museum, and to check out a friend's photography exhibit at ICP and also, oh my goodness, Superfine, the fashion and history show of a lifetime, and the FIT graduate show, and then drinks with a dear Brooklyn punk rocker.

It was also a month of loss, of realizing two friendships that were important to me, one decades long and one more recent, were suddenly uneven and frustrating and floundering and were they maybe not even really friendships? That gut-emptying feeling of ah, so I like them more than they like me. Of feeling foolish and slow and stupid for trusting people with my thoughts, my time, my true self.

Relationships are a gamble I guess, and I'll learn and the hurt will heal but it's hard not to think of these as losses.  

 

HNY

HNY from busysmartypants.

I enjoyed some new experiences this NYE. Less planned, and without my partner. I went out with pal who also was also flying solo and we enjoyed tequila drinks at Hazlewood, then sneaked into a nearby punk show to ring in 2024.

Except...the band stopped playing at 11.50pm.

We drifted out to the listless streets and did our own countdown with some reluctant sidewalk smokers.

Our efforts to find restorative pizza also failed, so we hopped in the car, got stuck in post-fireworks-and-Heart-concert traffic jams, abandoned the car, and eventually found quesadillas and a reggaeton dance party at a Belltown taco truck.

Welcome, 2024.

big kid friendship

Ahoy and hello.
The colonialist holiday got the best of me last week so I laid low and worked on some writing projects.
Check out this article about making friends as an adult.
As a work-from-home newcomer in a place grounded in centuries-old traditions and generational relationships, it's been hard to develop new friendships.
One of the first things I did here (as per the article) was reach out to acquaintances.
Lol.
One ignored me, one strung me along, then ghosted. The third met for coffee once and then disappeared, only to pop up here and there to ask how my holidays were (rude, I'm alone, duh) or when I'm moving back to the PNW (ok bye).
So, I pivoted to new friendships. Those have been tough, too but I've been patient and finally met some transplants and a local writer or two.
Had to weed out the religious because they just want to convert me but otherwise I'm keeping expectations low and flexibility high.
It feels unnatural to this Capricorn! But I don't know what else to do.

the blur of week 13

This week was the blur of wrapping up work for 2022 and impending friend arrival.
Over the weekend I had coffee with a new friend, sharing our stories of mother-loss (hers 30 years ago and still fresh) and trading tornado scares (her Winn-Dixie had its roof blown off).
On Sunday I was walking in the neighborhood when a woman ran by with a stroller. I need to catch up to the second line, she yelled, so I followed her to a small, festive parade featuring 2 Christmas-themed floats and 2 brass bands, with folks dancing and other folks dragging coolers full of drinks. What a joyous moment.
On Wednesday my pals arrived to hugs and laughs and merriment, and we met up at Bratz Y'all for beers and pretzels and a divine black forest cake. They'd been up since 1am so we said goodnight.
Thursday we had pizza on a heated patio then enjoyed Kitten N Lou's living nativity, with silent-disco headphones, rum hot toddies and so much glittery drag cheer. It rained during the angel's solo but no one moved. Then a drink at Vaughn's, and a stroll by a few bars closer to home.
Friday we were up early for a very chilly breakfast at Elizabeth's, fried green tomatoes and good coffee and some shit-flipping from a sarcastic waiter, then a road trip to Avery Island to tour the Tabasco plant.
I enjoyed seeing the countryside, endless miles of bayou and swamp, and the chitter chatter in the car about life and I-tell-yew-what down-hominess. We were awed by the bottling line, the enormous vats and well-work work stools, then the bountiful gift shop. Back in town before dark and we all called it a night.
Saturday was Xmas eve so we strolled in the cold, sunny French Quarter, dined on pralines and beignets and coffee at Lorettas, oohed over the amazing art at Antieau Gallery, had Irish coffees and banjo jazz at Fritzels, a so-so slice of za, then disco naps and late-night partying at the Phoenix with lots of laughs about the FQ tiny cop cars.
Sunday, Christmas, wobbly and hungover, we nommed breakfast at St. Coffee, mercifully open and serving up toasty bagels with pumpkin seed pesto, delicious burritos and hot coffee. Our friends arrived that evening so we fed them Nola Po-boy fried treats, Bywater Bakery Xmas cookies, and vino verde.
More to come next week as friendcation continues.

that was some weird shit

Last week a friend and colleague from college days organized a work-friends reunion.

I experienced that moment my grandpa always talked about, when he went to a VA reunion of his war buddies and walked up wondering, "Who are all these old guys?" I legit had that thought when one couple approached our patio table. Who are those old people. And then: crap!

It was fun but weird, most of us having lost touch other than the occasional social media stalking. Most of the friends I'm still connected with couldn't make it but I table-hopped and caught up with some fellow snarks and even met a couple new people. One guy with his arm in a sling regaled us with the story of how he broke the arm, which included a kiddie pool, a Wiffle bat, and a trip to Harborview. I also learned a former supervisor and Dave Matthews super-fan passed away last year.

I don't feel like the same person I was when we all worked together but it was good to remember a shared history, raise a glass, and then go the heck home.

gallivantin

I spent about 10 days on holiday in the southwestern US. Getting away from work, home, the regular reg nature of things was exactly what I needed. I drove hundreds of miles through very unfamiliar landscapes, seeing new places and old friends. I wandered mountainous cities and read a Claire DeWitt detective novel and ate Hatch chilis a few different ways and wiggled my toes in cream-colored gypsum sand and came home on a train, exchanging the trials of airports and TSA for special brownies, spectacular West Coast views, naps, and the dining car.
What a treat.

dranks

A shrink asked me this week if I have friends I can confide in. Happily, the answer is yes.
I feel so lucky for the beautiful souls in my life.
Prost.

tiredly happy happily tired

Just returning from a couple of days' staycation.
A restorative 48 hours.
Friends and beach time and bar-hopping in a couple of old-school neighborhoods.
Now, back at it.
"It."

festy life

I had the good fortune to peep Travis Thompson at the Fishermans Village Music Festival in Everett last weekend. I have not been in the partying mood, but this is the chillest, illest little festival in the PNW at the moment and some pals and I had been planning to get up there for awhile. It's just what we wanted. Old school 206'ers mingling with Day-Glo ravers and hip kids and old folks and it was sceney (girls in hats and booties) but not too sceney (the for-real beardy guys outweighed the statement-beardy guys). Chong the Nomad charmed us with her wacky set and meme-y dreamy visuals. Tilson XOXO was confident and exciting and didn't last way long enough. Anyway TT hit the main stage on a cool Friday evening and slayed, with a cameo by the luminous Parisalexa.This Ambaum kid is gonna make good, I can feel it.

riffing

Twice this past week I found myself seated in a Capitol Hill establishment, riffing on a creative piece with a good friend. Trading puns, bad jokes, playing with words until we hit on something that makes everyone's faces light up.
That's it. 
Ooh, put that in.
Did you get that?
One piece is finished--in the can, a two-act radio play presented on Sunday on Hollow Earth Radio. It was a group effort, predictably sloppy in some parts, and surprisingly sharp in others, and in the end, a lovingly-Frankensteined production.
The other piece is just beginning, a much bigger work.
All this plus my own writing and video tinkering equals a tired but satisfied creative brain.