Ryne and Cleo came to visit me in Ballard it was great. We did a little afternoon-evening pub tour of 65th street, and, not having had much to drink in recent...months, I got pretty schnookered on my two or three pints of beer over five hours and after bidding them adieu made Belgian-style-waffles-for-real (like this, except frozen waffles and just chocolate syrup),

a favored midnight snack from Nederland, crawled into bed with them, and spilled said chocolate syrup all over sheets that are not my own. Thank goodness for color-safe bleach.

I woke up at 6 in the morning to walk to Safeway to buy things so I could make New Year's cards for my extended family, who I was having brunch with and had been moving too fast to get my gift act together for, and found myself still drunk, something that hasn't happened since...Glacier. What a weird feeling. Walking around in the dark at 6 in the morning with fuzzy brain and jelly legs. One of the results of this was tragic cards that looked like a five year old made them, which I decided, ultimately, not to distribute. The other was lots of reminiscing about mountains and fine moments like this:

It

(Instant recipe for puke.)

It was way cool to brunch with the Seattle faction of Levins/Steinbergs and my very own cuzmo Kaimobile, having sobered up, even with nothing to offer to the festivities but my presence. We mostly munched on cornmeal waffles and avocado shiitake deliciousness, and laughed. Nothing will ever compare to fabled WhisChristmases past,

but it is nice to be doing some small things with some people I love here and there.

Today feels different, spread before me and possible instead of dark and closed-form like the last few - maybe the sun, maybe the to-do list, maybe the destinations in mind, maybe the idea of a haircut, maybe the catchy songs in my head, maybe the good rest, maybe the return of TimTom tonight?

Last night was opposite ends of the shelter spectrum - face of a generally stoic young man breaking into a proud grin while he told me about how he's discovered boats. "I was just eating my breakfast on the lake one day and this guy asked me if I wanted to volunteer for him - he's gonna train me as a deckhand. They gave me a ride on Christmas Day! And Johnny's going to take me sailing...and, I just never thought about it, you know, boats. I love the breeze on my face. I'm giddy like a girl, man!" And on the other side, an equally reserved young person pacing during smoke break and leaning in close - "one of my friends OD'ed today." he said. "He was shooting up again in a few hours, I think he wants to die. I think there are going to be more and more OD's soon. I think I need a bottle of naproxen so I can make sure people don't die." He asked me how much I knew about benzos and opiates and I said not much except how to recognize when people had taken them and that it was the most fatal combination of drugs and he was shocked. "They teach you that stuff? They need to teach everyone that stuff. People are gonna die in the U District." Then he told me that he had first-hand knowledge of why they were gonna die, but he didn't think he should tell me. And I said he didn't have to tell me anything he didn't want to, but I was always here to listen. And I was so sorry his friend had OD'ed. And he said "Ok, goodnight." In the morning it was like nothing had happened.

I used to feel everything when I heard that shit. Now...I don't feel much. This work. Sometimes when someone is mad at me they scream "this is just a job to you!" Maybe now it is? If I don't feel much? This work fucks you up.