Making friends is weary business. Not my strong suit, I have two basic approaches. The first is just getting along right off the bat. Some special humans bypass all my shields and walls to meet me directly. In that rarefied time I usually embrace the connection and do what I can to make it last. Unfortunately, this immediate empathy often scares the other party off. Either they don’t feel it or worse, reject knowing me. I come on a bit strong for people that make friends easily. My fierce loyalty is a blessing and a curse.

Most of the people I instant-connected with in Seattle have fled. The second friendship method is when I find somewhere I enjoy being myself. Best example is The Magic Hat. After ten months of attending the Monday night show semi-regularly I have garnered at least one friend. I want to claim more but the circle froze me out a few weeks ago and I’m not counting on a thaw. Most of them are performers or artists with seemingly important lives and multiple long-term friends. No need to adopt a crass queerdo from the darkest depths of middle America.

I won’t get all wrapped up in someone’s resume when I meet them. I don’t mean to belittle accomplishments, I’d just rather meet a person than their bio. It helps that I stay out of touch with pop culture. I’m a fan of artists I’ve witnessed over those I might read about. In my experience, the funniest person in Seattle is not a regular headliner at comedy clubs. They might be one day but my opinion rests on the variety of things I’ve seen in dozens of less glamorous shows, not one curated hour of comedy. The same would be true of music if I could just find it. The best bands I’ve heard in Seattle tend to be from California.

I’ve retraced nearly all my steps since first moving to Seattle. Finding my way to places I scouted blindly in February, I’m practically a homing pigeon when downtown. The fog of war draped across the city is now a patchwork of intertwining paths. Anywhere I haven’t visited is either one step away from the familiar or south of downtown. Armed with a bus pass, I feel like a bona fide city mouse these days. Seeing Elliot Bay every time I leave home is still the best aspect of my life here. For now. A few of friends are poised to take the top seed sometime soon. It’s tough to do – Puget Sound is pretty fucking reliable.