Another week gone

 I just got back from one of the most socially intense and spiritually challenging moments of the human experience: Friday 5pm Whole Foods run. (And with that one sentence, I just outed myself to all my dirt bagging kayaking friends that I have- albeit temporarily- passed over to the yuppified dark side. Which is true, I suppose, for now. What can I say? I love a good corporately wholesome food shopping experience, I do, and Fayetteville West Virginia, with its stunning selection of whitewater but desolate selection of produce, could just never provide.)

Whole foods at rush hour. If you're not prepared, you could end up limping out with $200 lost and nothing gained, having retained only the emotional capability to bus home and crawl into a shell until the next equinox. But if you're ready and you've psyched yourself up for it, then welcome to the most cheerful place on the planet. It's bright and crowded and manic and just plain off-of-the-hook! They've just got to be force feeding their employees a potent mix of caffeinated sugar water, the stuff you might feed to psychotic hummingbirds. (I ought to try that solution in the mornings and maybe I'd have a fighting chance of being alive before noon. I could peck it out of a long red tube.)

Safely at home now, I am suffering a whiplash of regret for choosing the 'winterberry wheat salad' from the hot bar when all I wanted was the friggin macaroni and cheese. Which would have been the same price. I don't even know who I am anymore!! We all live with the consequence of our choices, I suppose. Either way, tonight marks the finale of a mercurial week that alternated between this:

  And this: 

Similarly, my bio-atmospheric mimicking response, something I invented myself, had me alternating between gloom and joy on a daily basis. Evening X: shades drawn in a dark bedroom, head under the covers, hungry but without the wherewithal to walk down the hall to the kitchen. Evening Y: running around the city like the mad hatter, eating everything in sight and hoisting myself to the drafty roof of the climbing gym and back down a million times.

I do believe a little grounding would be a good thing for me.

Some good news of the week, which helped to counter-act the loss of the stupid writing grant that I didn't really want anyway,  is that Lisa has agreed to remove a little ultimate-friz out of her schedule in order to fit in a little more time with me, in this place, doing this, and I get to teach her!

(To the boys at the climbing gym & the weekday crowd at The Noble Fir, you're welcome. But you owe me one.)

The new restaurant of the week is: Anchovies and Olives on First Hill. Really good unless you don't like anchovies or olives. Or sea food, because that's all there is. I don't eat any of those things, but the bread was great! The ambiance, fantastic. The wine? Affordable, during their 'Power Hour'. (Who needs happy when you have power, am I right?) 

Thanks Lis and Miranda....where to next week? Can I suggest the Latona Pub? Even though I've been there a thousand times? Yeah?

Annnnnd with that, we're settling in. Nearly everyone I know is sticking around for at least a piece, if not the duration, of the weekend. The house is full of lights, music but, sadly, little 'action'. He. He. Sorry. The house is full of lights, music and FOOD in preparation for tomorrow's concert.

 

If I don't see you tomorrow, then have a wonderful relaxing weekend. Actually....no. If I don't see you tomorrow, I hope you grow blisters as a result of not seeing The Sister live. Or scales. Or gills! If you do grow gills, tell me how that goes for you, it would be so useful don't you think?