That one June 7th

Moving boxes from mother's to car to apartment. Pretty soon I'll sift through Boulder things, all left packed away since. I want to enjoy the moving in. Make it cleansing. Make it a home. After all, the commitment (though breakable) is lengthy. I heard the train, the motorcycles, the buzz. I want to fill the fridge, have a gorgeous bed. I want pillows everywhere. I want bohemian and lit candles. I want potted plants and stock wine. I want all the runners to stop by and drink the water and shower their salt. I want a pitcher of sangria on the balcony at all times, beside the growing basil and rosemary. I want sound. I like the different sweat I've been making. I like the three flights of stairs over the elevator. I like that the bed is the last thing I'll move in. What does that make me? It's interesting how natural all of this feels, despite it being the first time. I guess, every time before hand felt alone, because of how I thought. It didn't matter the mate, I've always been independent. But this, this is truly self-satsifying. When I was 10 I started working at the Bellingham Farmer's Market at my grandmother's hot dog stand, soaking brats in beer, stealing cash from the register to buy hemp dresses. Now, I am lost and not lonely and living right across from the place that the child-me grew. A circle?

Today was the Girls on the Run 5k. BDP met to cheer, high-five, and take photos for a seattle rag debuting our team. Our numbers are few and our members are neurotic, but I feel like a full person when I'm around them, and I love that somehow, I attracted these people into my life. We dressed in hot dog, ketchup and mustard costumes. The 5k'ers offered creepy commentary, "I want to eat you." Some girl made me high-five her head. It was weird. We danced. Afterwards, we ran beneath the sun, browned our shoulders.

After unpacking a little, I went to Vinostrology to do some writing. Poured myself some 2011 Piaugier Sablet and got this from a customer: "You're young to have such good taste."

Today is someone I really care about's birthday. I'll write to honor her vivacity.