Last Night in Lisbon

Yesterday evening, very likely my last in Lisbon until sometime next year, was spent ingesting pizza, red wine and a spectacular sunset from the balcony of a penthouse apartment overlooking the 25 de Abril Bridge and the Santuário de Cristo Rei monument with some of the splendid souls that I get to work with and one gorgeous Golden Retriever named Mopac who, sadly, I don’t.

I’m ready to head home, of that I’m certain, but lovely Lisbon sure as hell ain’t makin’ my impending departure an easy one.

Gone Public

The technology startup that has employed me for the past five years began trading shares on the New York Stock Exchange yesterday and each of our offices worldwide partied about it. Because I’m in Lisbon this week, the shindig I attended included cocktails and seafood served at a swanky beach club in Costa da Caparica, a Portuguese civil parish ten miles outside of the city. We—Laura, my four Lisbon-based colleagues and I—got ourselves loose and stayed that way deep into the night, dragging our drinks to the beach for the sunset and then again after dinner to dip our toes into the Atlantic Ocean beneath the light of a full moon.

Portland is for Miracles

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.

Wut.

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?

Give up?

A damn lot of them.

Portland is for miracles, y’all.