- Sleepy headed guy in a black hooded sweatshirt. He stands in the shelter out of the wet. On his neck, a lipstick kiss tattoo, pinkish red, very real if a little too big. As I’m trying to figure out what color that is, exactly, the bus arrives, he flips up his hood, and I can’t see the kiss anymore.
- “Scuse me, but can you show me how to text?” It’s the guy in the seat behind me.
Typically, we blast through Bellingham, Washington, making no more than a coffee and bagel stop downtown to fortify ourselves for either the Canadian border crossing at Peace Arch or the bumper to bumper traffic between Everett and downtown Seattle. Chock full of coffee and carbs, we grip the steering wheel, navigate Interstate 5, and wonder if Bellingham doesn’t warrant a little more time someday.
It’s an only an hour and half away give or take a bit, from our home in Seattle, close enough for a motivated day trip.… continued…
29 guests are invited to my house. Bring something to share. Seriously. Just show up in my in-box, there’s nothing else to do.
I’m trying an experiment. I’d like to see if I can get 29 posts, one every day for the month of April. 29 posts, one every day, written by you. Why 29? I’m keeping April 1 so everyone knows it’s not a joke.
A few guidelines for my sanity.
- Word count: 1200 words maximum.
Every now and then someone asks me if I really play the uke. Yeah, I do. I’m not very good but I love to play. No, I mean I REALLY love to play. And the uke has been a big help with my stage fright issues. Occasionally, just to prove that I play and that the world will not crumble if I play in public, I do THIS. For the record, I’m very realistic — I know that I play okay and my singing, well, I’m mostly on key, but that’s about it.… continued…
Yesterday afternoon I was a weird combination of restless and lethargic. Earlier that day I’d handed in my corporate laptop — the nine month contract that saved me from a very bad work market was over, I’d been replaced by a full time on-site “resource”, one more willing than I am to sit in a designated chair for 40 hours a week. Without the additional 7 pounds of hardware in my backpack, I was feeling considerably lighter, nervous and celebratory at the same time.… continued…
