Overdue...
A giant dirty gin martini and crab spinach dip. More importantly, a giant gin martini and pulled pork sandwich. Casually, a winter coat and scarf strewn over a chair at Mc Cabe's (leaves me wondering about the Misses).
More importantly, we listen to big dreams between hand claps.
This is something worth cheers-ing over. A tight Belgian beer with an after-taste of champagne while having a progressive dinner with mom and sis. Abby pointed out when the three of us are together it's like anything is possible. Here's to flames not smoke.
I had chestnuts roasted on the open fire with mulled wine. They are as good as the holiday mythology suggests.
A cold and sleepy Sunday afternoon in Chicago. Running errands with mundane to-dos crackling on my mind. I took a break for sitting and settling with an afternoon stop at Bridgeport Coffee. Instead of a pot of herbal tea I got a cappuccino.
From the brown mug to the thick head of foam --> perfection. In the moments before ordering did I recognize a cappuccino-shaped hole inside? Is satisfaction having that unique lack filled? Should it be filled perfectly, exactly full or leave a sliver that I seal with satisfied recognition of my own need?
I can appreciate the shadow dancing on the wall.
I have been celebrating my big birthday for over two weeks. A bar hop, a make-up lesson, a cozy cabin stay - I've done a lot of celebrating because I have much I'm grateful for.
The drink that kicked it all off was The Nordic Track at Maria's Packaged Goods and Community Bar. It's gin-based balanced by a sweet liquor and brightened with a slapped sprig of dill. The description read as a drink that I may not like, but I trust the bartenders at this lounge. The drink enlivened me like an everyday polar plunge.
I am celebrating small, seismic shifts. At 29, I was afraid to ride a bike. At 29, I thought only in monuments. At 29, I thought I AM this way or that.
In thirty, I hope to find moments and wee sprigs packed with stinky, energizing essence.
