Last year, I wasn't a 12. I was a fan, we went out to watch Super Bowl, and as you can imagine downtown Seattle last year at this time was party on steroids on love on a city that confuses me, holds me, denies me and inspires me. But, last year I wasn't a 12. I had questions about football, I have my own story with it. Peyton Manning was so injured. What can I say? I think about this stuff and I work it through. We had front row seats as The Seahawks rode triumphantly through the streets, a happy Marshawn Lynch throwing Skittles to the fans. Always lucky in love somehow, we got to watch the parade from a friend's apartment which directly overlooked the parade route.
It was right after the horrible aggression on Charlie Hebdo, that I began to feel like a 12. I began to connect with it. I started to feel the electricity rather than just as an interested spectator. The magic began to work on me and I started thinking about what I would wear as colors for Blue Friday. I saw a place for the unique in the collective through a Marshawn Lynch who is changing, expressing himself in new ways. He's taking risks.
We found out on Wednesday that the motel we're staying in was sold to the city and we would have to leave by the first. We spent today again, like many other days, searching for affordable housing. Not so lucky in love on that one. We rode the bus downtown, into what is now officially Twelve Town, feeling a bit hopeless. When we stepped off the bus and started seeing our friends, I began to understand Beast Mode. Our friends think it's so great that we've been able to remain transitionally housed this long and I can't stand to disappoint. I felt the Beast creep up my back and I told J, "We're not giving up. We're not going back, this will work out." We visited the friend who lives on the Super Bowl parade route, drank great coffee, and all the way back to this vintage motel, I wondered what we would do. I also thought about getting to cruise down the canals in Fremont for Super Bowl this year. Cruise by the very woods I once lived in. We actually received an invitation to do that Sunday. I wondered what to wear, and I stopped thinking about what to do.
We got off the bus and straggled toward the motel office. The managers called us over. They had good news, "You have twelve more days before you have to move!"
And then, we were twelves. Go Seahawks....xox
For Blue Friday, a navy blue wool dress from my friend, June, and a hand knit scarf from a sister at Church of Mary Magdelene....I don't know how the colors will really look...but the scarf is mottled colors...