A journalist observes life in the far north.
It’s almost 11pm. I am in my friend Ginger’s bedroom in Anchorage, a city where I arrived about 21 hours ago after a seven-hour drive from Fairbanks. It feels like a salon here in Ginger’s bedroom. We are drinking white wine, watching “Purple Rain” and telling secrets. Her bedroom is huge, with a love-seat and lots of room for me to spread out my yoga mat and stretch out. Tomorrow we have tickets to see the band Kansas at the Alaska State Fair.
I miss Lucky, especially if I see another baby, but I love just hanging out without a care in the world. It’s hard to believe my whole life used to be like this. Lucky is with her dad, who sounded kind of stressed out on the phone earlier.
I am making the most of my weekend of freedom. I sipped a latte at Starbucks, shopped at an open market and saw the movie “Hancock” today. We plan to hike tomorrow before the show.
Left: me and Cal, Ginger’s youngest son, who gives great hugs. Right: Sadie, Ginger’s daughter and the first baby I saw be born.
Me and Ginger.