The week my car was stolen was a good week. My Best Dudie Friend had just visited and we ate our weight in good food. It was the week I visited a new-to-me state and crossed Seattle off my Life List. It was the week I took a trip with my BFF, something we haven’t done together since 1999. I rode my first helicopter and the clouds that usually loom over Seattle made way for clear views of the Space Needle and the pretty mountain ranges that cradle the city. I had a reunion with a high school and college classmate who made me contemplate the beauty of friendships and the value of time on Earth. During the week my car was stolen, I tacked watermelon flavored gum on a bizarre street art exhibit that spans two walls in an alley. I attended a chocolate festival and deliriously ate more chocolate than I ever thought possible with BFF and Jennifer. I left the country briefly and stood on a wobbly suspension bridge with two cherished friends and peered over the edge, marveling at the miracles of suspension bridges and three hour road trips that take you outside the country.
The week my car was stolen was an amazing week.