A few minutes after I calmed it down from my silly fuck you ranting a heard a couple happy voices going, “It IS her!”. These buddies wound up not only being on my flight, but in my row, with a super long layover in Seattle. We spent the day maintaining a strong daytime buzz and searching for an elusive bar. When we finally found it, it totally paid up. Swanky, yet somehow divey, with great jazz and a ginger cocktail that blew my mind. Like whoa.
Any negativity from my disappointing send-off at home had turned into the sheer excitement of realizing I don’t live there anymore. Freeeeeedom!!! I raced across the city to catch the second half of my flight with a few blips, convincing me that I was going to miss it. I dashed through the airport like the white rabbit, making a bit of an ass of myself. Wound up waiting outside my gate for twenty minutes, hoping no one who witnessed my frenetic scene saw me…
Anyways, got to my new home and my amazing buddies that I’ve known for a combined 39 years welcomed me at the gate. They are amazing, and wildly supportive, and fun, and just freakin’ kick ass. But this blog isn’t about that. It’s about randomness creating evolution. Fucking up resulting in wising up. Living life the scenic route. Something like that. I think. I don’t really know what this is about yet.
Fast forward through two lovely nights spent with dear friends, to an evening of truly random shenanigans. I ventured out on my own, to a brilliant neighborhood dive. I sat at the bar enjoying my IPA and trying to look easy to talk to, but not like I was waiting for someone to talk to me. Which is absolutely what I was doing.
After about twenty minutes a loud girl was yelling something wildly inappropriate and hilarious right behind me. I laughed and turned around, to her delight. Her and her smart funny friends took me under their wing immediately. We partied it up until bar close, then house-partied it up until it was light out. My belly hurt from laughing, shit got sillll-y.
I once had a conversation with a friend about various kinds of friendships. She was interested in why I had so many friends in various groups, and wanted to know how I could feel comfortable around so many different people. There are the kinds of friends that I want to talk to about life’s rollercoasters, about love and loss, about death, or aging, or their philosophy on life.
The folks from that hilariously random schwilly evening are what I call, “fun friends”. They may come into your life once, or you may see them a few times a year for the rest of your life. But when you get together, it will be light. Like whipped cream. With vodka. “Fun friends”.
I think I’ll like Portland. It’s been nice and random.