When I was back in Michigan this month, I had a chance to go to a party where there were friends of mine with whom I went to elementary school, middle school, high school. It was at Allison’s mom’s house.
1. Emily and I sneaked into the kitchen before lunch was ready and pilfered some mini spinach pies to chomp on, because it smelled delicious and we were starving. Allison’s mom yelled at us to get the hell out of her kitchen until she was ready. We scurried out, laughing like we were 12 years old.
2. Allison and Steph told a hilarious story about when they went to Obama’s inauguration and the travel logistics broke down. They kept calling other groups of people “those yahoos” and I thought about how I say that phrase too, but I don’t hear it from my Seattle friends very much. Do Seattle people say “those yahoos”? Not in my experience.
3. Everyone was loud, jovial, warm, and hugged me as though they just saw me yesterday even though some of them haven’t seen me in at least 10 years, and hugged Nordic Boy even though they don’t know him from the side of a barn.
I totally kept thinking to myself, in a wistful sort of way: THESE ARE SO TOTALLY MY PEOPLE.
I also got to spend a lot of time at my parents’ house in Michigan.
1. My nephew started to sneeze and then plugged his nose to stop it from coming out. My mom said “don’t do that! Your face will blow up!” which caused him to fall on the floor laughing.
2. Four little kids piled on top of my teeny tiny dad, all wanting to sit on his lap at the same time, and his arms seemed strangely capable of gathering them all up in one big ball of rugrat.
3. My brother, whose official title should be Most Rambunctious Uncle In the Universe, played Bloody Murder with all the kids in the yard at dusk. Screeching and giggling noises throughout the neighborhood at dinner time, every night.
4. My sister and brother, with their inside jokes, and me, the little sister, still not getting what they are talking about even after all these years. That’s ok if they’re cliquey though, because my cousin Rosita and I are sort of the same way.
5. My relatives from New Zealand, Fiji, Australia, calling on the phone and us all passing the phone around, as we always do when we’re home at the same time. Me missing them all so much it sort of hurts.
This family? My people.
When I got back to Seattle, I’ve gone out with different library buds for drinks, dinners, and lunches.
1. Look at all the cute dresses on all the cute librarians. So delightful.
2. We talk about work, and books, and movies, and Big Ideas and Philosophy. Ooh la la. There are many things that make all of us say What. The. Fuck? And so we do. Say it a lot.
3. We walk around this city and we all revel in the sheer gorgeousness of it all, and we eat a lot of amazing food. And there are sparkling skyscrapers. And mountains. And trees.
4. We are going through a big bad budget time this year, and people cry when it gets too much and the rest of us hug them.
And wait, maybe THESE are my people.
And then I go back to work, and I get into my daily grind and Nordic Boy gets into his. Me: work work work. Him: Work work work.
1. Biogirl and I manage, even though we are busier than SNOT, to text and call each other throughout the day with updates on the minutia of our lives that probably mean nothing to anyone but us. How did that meeting go? And did you get a chance to eat lunch? And my coworker just told me the funniest thing.
2. When Nordic Boy goes to Portland this week and I have to work late, Delium calls me up and tells me that he’ll pick up dinner for us both and to just come over after work and not worry about finding dinner on my own. We then eat pad thai and laugh until we want to die even though my day had just been shit on a stick.
3. I’ll listen to a sweet mix tape (CD, but whatever, I call it a mix tape) from Jeanine. And Maddie’s tweets will crack me up. And I’ll get a nice email from another blog friend, I’m sure, since you guys are awesome and you check in every so often.
4. Our other friends make us all dinner reservations, and yet more dear ones invite us over. These are all people who think of us and go out of their way. Who make an effort, consistently. Who never let their lives get in the way of remembering to include us.
Those are completely my people.
Nordic Boy is coming home from Portland this afternoon.
1. I know when I get home he’ll hug me until my spine kind of cracks. In a good way.
2. I know we’ll probably get take out and talk each other’s ears off. Although we talk a lot while he’s away, we always have so much to say when he gets back, as if we hadn’t been talking at all for a while.
3. I know that he’ll fall asleep before I do, and that I’ll listen to him breathing before I finally go to sleep. I also know that he’ll wake up before I do, and kiss me awake.
He’s for so totally sure my people.
I’ve got a lot of people, people. How lucky is that?