Marching for Peace or Something

Mona and I headed out in this fucking perfect weather and got caught up in a peace march near the zoo—troops out of Afghanistan, conscientious objectors doing time, all of it. We danced around, wore the flags, screamed for a better world. Easy to get caught up in.

I couldn’t make it home for Easter so I spent the night at Sonja’s instead. Strawberries in vodka, this massive flat screen TV I’m definitely stealing somehow, and hours with her sister and her Finnish fiancé and the grandparents talking about wedding invitations and Bruce Darnell and cellulite. The kind of night that seems pointless until you’re in it.

I’m in the middle of something I can’t quite talk about yet. It might not work out. But being part of something like that, doing the work, seeing what’s possible—it’s enough.