Life has taken a rather diverting turn as of late. With the bakery in my rear view mirror and school taking up more of precious and often fractured time, let's just say that I feel almost slightly manic in many moments.
Add in homesteading chores, parenting obligations, and input for all manner of friend and family member, and you have a recipe for overstimulation.
But, since I tend to excel and operate well from such a perch, I'm hanging in there. Sorta.
One thing that I really looked forward to this week was a hike and a girl's night. Each event had been planned for months, and since all I have really done since May has been work, I was very much looking forward to each outing.
The hike was a meander up and around and down Tubbs Hill in Coeur d'Alene. I have hiked the rocky protuberance on the shores of the lake before, with the same people in fact, but as one of our group had a pressing business matter to attend to in CDA, we made it work.
Which was a good thing, because I had bunches of work to attend to in and around my event too.
I am one of the lucky souls that NEVER had to attend or lead a Teams or Zoom meeting during that which is referred to as The Pandemic. Ironically, I did lots of Zoom meetings pre-Vid for 4-H, but largely escaped unscathed during the height of the timeline tragedy.
That said, I have done quite a few Zoom meetings over the last couple of years for school purposes, but until this week I had avoided the realm of Microsoft Teams.
School had other ideas.
So, since I am practicing case work this semester, I got partnered up with a classmate and we had to do our first meeting and practice recording, interviewing, and such.
It was pretty fun, but not without challenge.
I really need to quit procrastinating and buy myself a new computer. Sigh.
Then there was Girl's Night. One of our game night friends offered to be our driver and us three ladies got to dress up and go out to have some fun. And fun we did indeed have. If you are into tabletop gaming, enjoy libations of the alcoholic and non-alcoholic kind, and dig a fun and whimsical environment full of good company and cheer, I wholeheartedly recommend The Blue Shell in Coeur d'Alene.
Okay, it's also kinda fun to play Phase 10 when you are slightly dialed in.
It was our second establishment of the evening where I gleaned my most juicy writing material. And more than a modicum of existential heartache.
One of our friends really wanted to go the this cowgirl-themed bar and ride the mechanical bull. Me, I just wanted to see that and I am always up for an adventure. Plus, observing the local wildlife in situ is a thing I am always up for.
Well, as we walked into the door of the establishment my internal meter blew its top. The place had the worst kind of vibes.
And when I say worst, I mean of the saddest of the human condition kind. I thought we were going to get to experience a bit of Cowgirl Ugly what we saw instead were the horrors of the worst side of humanity grotesquery.
Now here's the thing. When most people see me, they visibly relax, smile, and gravitate towards me. I have no idea why, but it runs in our family and could be a combination of mirror empathy, facial symmetry, and who knows what else, but the bartender in that establishment hated me on sight. Like dripped with disdain. This intrigued me greatly. Right off the bat a very muscular and discomforting creature demanded to see our ID's (They didn't card a single other soul the entire twenty minutes or so that we were there, and many of those present were very youthful in appearance).
It was my turn to buy refreshments and I did so from the very unamiable proprietress. We all sat at a table, and began to take it all in. What was intersting is that all four of us picked up on the bad vibes and wanted to leave. Immediately.
We agreed to finish our drinks before heading out. In that short time, we observed many things.
The first was the bra and denim short clad other bartender took two young men out into the parking lot for a few minutes. Then the other scantily clad cowgirls got onto a bar behind us and began a dance routine. Never have I seen such a lack of joy in one's countenance. Only when I have been around those exploited by the realm of human trafficking have I felt such apathetic, soulless despair. It made my heart hurt.
The hurt evolved into rage as I saw the new arrivals next to us. Some very solidly upper middle class older folks claimed the pool table next to us, they were easily in their late fifties to early sixties. It took me all of a few seconds to realize that they were swingers and prowling for prey. The couples divided by sex and took up positions on each side of the bar, their gaze hungrily on the young women dancing. Not gonna lie, the Scandinavian bezerker and Hessian mercenary genes in my hobbit carcass demanded retribution.
A very downtrodden trans women drifted by, their awareness covered in a fugue that was most probably substance-induced, and a couple of women took the other pool table next to us, one using any cue-lining excuse to bump into my buddy who was our driver and the other looking at me in the most insolent and inappropriate manner.
It was time to go.
As I stepped up to pay the tab, the two women at the table approached us, expressing dismay that we were vacating. Both their faces were lined and cratered with the signs of a lifetime of substance abuse and experienced trauma. It broke my heart and in a moment of Kat-weirdness I took the offered hand of one of the ladies and drew her into a hug.
The proprietess' demeanor was a complete 180 when we approached the bar. It had finally dawned on her that we weren't competition in their oldest occupation in the world endeavors and she was all smiles.
As we walked out, a wave of relief flowed over our carcasses as we exited the den of iniquity. My rage was quietly growing because the only time I have ever seen such scenes is in metropolitan areas and this was on a street in our very small but unfortunately recently trendy town. Every person in that place was an import from the state that shall not be named, and it inflames me that such scenes are now close to my home.
What it really did though, was reignite my fervor that I am definitely on the right path. We can't save everyone, but we can offer guided, informed paths for those to take who want to help themselves out of that world. More opportunities and options practiced in love and understanding in a holistic manner are needed to combat the pain and suffering that exists all around us. I know people are doing what they need to do to survive, I want to serve and help offer other paths to survival with a focus on overcoming and thriving.
Or something. Holy hooktenders did that place bother me.
Anyway, the rest of the night was rather splendid, full of laughing, board games, delicious imbibements, and two AM Taco Bell. I have to admit, it was delightful to just be for a few hours, and it was good for my soul to experience such a wonderful diversion in the company of friends.
And also to be reminded of what I am here to do.
Now, back to writing papers and chopping wood😉
And as most of the time, all of the images in this post were taken on the author's happy it didn't fall into some bar toilet iPhone.
