1.30.10 sojourn

The last time I visited my hometown it had a pretty good independent coffee shop (often staffed by members of the beloved Hoyt family). It has since been driven out by Starbucks. Heavy sigh.

Still, I need coffee, and when I'm home I can almost imagine the corporate monstrosity to be local. Or at least, I do remember going there when it was one shop in the Pike Place Market.

I coaxed my mother and son inside for pastries, only to be sucked into a social miasma. Encountering three childhood enemies before 10 am? Amusing, though not especially illuminating. We all turned out as you might have predicted.

A girl I loathed for good reason when we were fourteen years old eavesdropped throughout a conversation with my mother, in which we discussed the advantages of the various (realistic) places I might move next.

It was very odd to feel this semi-stranger glare as I rambled on about schools in Berlin, housing prices in London, the benefits offered by assorted other cities.

My mother voted for a return to Seattle, or at least a sojourn in San Francisco.

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