Tuesday, June 10, 2008

Urban Decay

I am a Metro-chick. I take the bus to work. I avoid staring at strangers while trying to overhear their conversations (except that one tweaker who talks on the phone too loud and WANTS you to hear what she's complaining about), I drink Starbucks. A lot of Starbucks.

Hello, Urban World. I am Urban Decay.

One day last week, there was a guy on the bus wearing a PUMA sweatshirt. He looked sort of puma-ish—broad chested, thick dark hair—until I looked down. From out of his shorts poked the skinniest, whitest bird legs I’ve ever seen. I thought to myself, “You are not Puma, you are Ostrich!”

Friday afternoon/evening the kids’ school had it’s year-end party. There was a jumpy house for the kids (and I swear, the teens loved it more than the wee ones!), there was loud music, there was food, and there were friends everywhere we turned. By the time we got home (8:30 or so), everyone was exhausted.

Remember in late April when a group of us got together to record a CD? On Sunday evening we reconvened for a listening party. Words fail me. The whole is better than the sum of its parts. I had goosebumps, I cried a couple of times, and then I got really drunk. It’ll be about 2 more months before the CDs have been pressed and packaged and are ready for sale, but now that I’ve had a taste, I know it’s worth the wait. Unbelievable that I’m part of something so wonderful!

Today I’ll have lunch with two of my favorite local knitters. We are wrapped in our coats and gloves and scarves as we celebrate friendship on another June-uary day in Portland.