Today was a pretty rad day in my life for a few reasons, but if the following Twitter vid of a baby deer is all I remember about it I won’t even be mad.
I was sipping an IPA as Bevan got intimate with a non-meat something or other on gluten free bread at Kenny & Zuke's Delicatessen in downtown Portland yesterday afternoon when who walked past our table but my current friend/former colleague Kevin and his wife Vicky whom I had not seen in nine years. I bounced out of my chair and skipped outside to hug them on a sidewalk that none of us had set foot on before. They’re still living in Chicago but had arrived in Portland just hours earlier to attend a wedding.
How many seemingly trivial, throwaway decisions had been made in the near decade since the last time we saw one another for all of us to have wound up on the same corner at the same moment in Portland, Oregon?
A damn lot of them.
Portland is for miracles, y’all.
I was gonna share a happy memory about my mom on this web log today but I didn’t get very many words down before the ache in my guts became too much. So instead I headed to Dolores Park to picnic with friends before returning home to stuff myself with Kentucky Fried Chicken whilst watching Instant Family with Bevan and the canines. Even though she’s not here to tell me as much, I know my mom would’ve understood.
After seventeen straight nights spent in beds that aren’t mine I’m finally on a commercial aircraft that’s making its way back to the Bay and as glorious and special and electric as New York City and London are I cannot wait to be reunited with Bevan and our dogs in our cozy little casa in the Castro.
Doesn’t that sound like perfection?
I know. I can’t wait.
Despite my excitement for it to be over with, I am grateful for the trip I just took. Not only did I get to spend lots of time with lots of people that I adore, it was a nice change of pace to be focused on something other than what’s in my head for a spell. So thanks, work job, for shoving me out into the world.
This evening, after working hours, Laura and I trekked back to our Covent Garden flat in a downpour-turned-snowstorm where we hopped out of wet clothes and into an uberX that dropped us at Balans Soho Society for food and then Comptons for drinks and now, in a bed brought to me by Airbnb, I’m recalling how throughout the night I kept thinking thoughts like “I’ve eaten at this restaurant with my dad.” and “I’ve imbibed at that bar with my friend Bryan.” and “Lauren and I danced at this club.” and the sheer fact that I have mucho crazy-go-happy memories with loved ones in mother-fucking London is yet another reminder that I lead one damn lucky mess of a life.