Hoppipolla

Happy Birthday three days ago, Hopey! Great people are hard to come by, but it's kind of amazing when one of them agrees to be your friend. Hope perfectly displays her name's truth in the way she lives. I should say imperfectly. Far from perfect, she shows me what it means to be a beautiful work in progress. She brings hope to the table of our friendship in so many aspects, including - but not limited to - laughter, anticipation of the future, wistful ambition, desire for Right in this world, challenge, guidance, growth, love.

I got to hang out with this one on the 24th anniversary of her birth (on the 24th day of the month - golden!). She and one of her Swiss friends from Nepal, Pierre, came to DC for a couple nights to hang out and to see Sigur Ros. Sunday morning we celebrated with mimosas, homemade cinnamon rolls, and fried eggs, and then lazied about our day (I don't know that lazy is ever a verb, but it is today), watching Macklemore and SNL videos until the concert that night.

Sigur Ros was incredible - although I don't recommend the venue. It was a bit like eating a gourmet meal in a fast food restaurant. The Patriot Center should be reserved for basketball games; epic performances like these deserve a theater. I might have wept a bit during Hoppipolla, and I was covered during the whole performance with goose bumps.

On Monday Pierre left to go home to Geneva, and Hope hung with me until Megabus took her away. We talked and drank wine and made homemade pizza and listened to good music and fell back into our rhythm before she went on her way. It was a fabulous weekend. Pierre was a perfect Swiss gentleman who reawakened my desire to learn French, and Hope was Hope.

This week is full of preparation for finals (Philip) and same ol' same ol' for me. Which is totally fine. I'm comfortable with a routine on which I can depend for awhile. Philip expressed an interesting idea on Monday that I feel I should share. We love our work. But we seem to go through all of the stages of grief on Mondays: Denial that it's no longer the weekend, then sadness, then anger at how behind we feel on work and how unmotivated we are to catch up, and finally acceptance. Acceptance for me usually comes on Tuesday morning. Tuesday is a day where I wake up glad for coffee, eager to see my coworkers' faces, and happy it's no longer Monday. By hump day, it's mid week, and the pressure lessens at work, people begin to relax, and weekend plans are made.

I wonder what it would be like to just enjoy every day for whatever it has to offer...

I leave you with a small taste of our concert on Sunday. Enjoy your Wednesday! And y'all. Despite the weather's recent defiance, it's Spring. Get excited.