Holy Shit!

Tomorrow is Kyle's 26th birthday.

Last year, we had Kyle's party on October 9th, 2006, at this dive bar we loved called Golden City, where our friend Kieran's brother tended bar and nobody cared that I was underage. There was always either a smattering of drunken old people who had been 86ed from every other bar in the Ballard neighborhood (which was really saying something, since it was an old Norwegian boating community...those sailors are tough!) or hipsters spinning and dancing to 80's New Wave and old skool hip hop. Even better: Golden City was only three drunken, stumbling blocks from our apartment. We invited all our Seattle friends and got blisteringly trashed. When we couldn't walk, they carried us home.
When we got home, I took off my eye makeup and when I looked at my scrubbed clean face in the mirror, I reflected slowly over my place in life. I was happy. Given: I missed my friends terribly that night, and we were poor, and my parents weighed on my mind. But I wasn't that worried; I knew I would see them again soon, and we'd figure the money thing out eventually, but...until then, I was happy. If you know me at all you know what a momentous occasion that was for me.

In the year that has elapsed since that moment, lots has changed. I changed jobs, flown back and forth to Houston countless times, and gone to India for a month, and I moved to Los Angeles and changed jobs again. One thing that is still the same: I am happy.

For Kyle, who gave me space and support to figure my life out, sacrificed so much time, energy, and sleep for our relationship, and who made it possible for me to be happy with my life in general...
Happy Birthday. I love you.