Okay, so I’m addicted to Facebook just like the rest of the world is. There, I said it. Phew, I feel better. Anyway, this afternoon after Bonnie and I went shopping, we came back to the Airbnb, and I took a serious nap while Bonnie took a semi-serious nap and then went for a walk or whatever she did that I don’t know because–again–I was seriously napping. I mean, the sun was down when I finally opened my eyes. I think it was eleven. But the first thing I did when I woke up was–you guessed it–Facebook. Scroll, scroll, scroll–Bette Midler interview–stop.

The next thing I knew, I was caught up in this story about Bette’s rise to fame that started with her singing in The Continental Baths, which I guess was a place in New York City that homosexuals could get naked, take baths together–um, whatever–and listen to the likes of Bette Midler and Barry Manilow–live. So basically it was soap, sex, and a song. I mean, we all need entertainment. Well, Bette said that she and Barry had a falling out, but she hoped they could patch it up. And sorry, said the interview guy, but to find out more, you’ll have to go to our website.

Fine. You have my attention.

I mean, I really didn’t wake up today itching to find out more about Bette Midler and Barry Manilow, but that’s what I did. So now–without meaning to–I’m even gayer than I was before.

I guess some things you can’t avoid.

This evening while Bonnie went to her final Kizomba dance, I went for a jog. One of my closest friends from high school, Neil, messaged me this weekend and suggested that I meet him in Seattle for a half-marathon. “I think it’d be really good for both of us,” he said. “And it will also guarantee me a spot on the blog.” (We all have dreams.) Anyway, I’m lately in the mood of saying yes to life (as well as beer, donuts, and cigarettes), so I told Neil I thought that would be a great idea, both for our friendship and for my waistline. That’s as far as we’ve gotten with the plan, but now it’s in print, so maybe it’s more likely to happen. Either way, I figured now was as good a night as any to start training.

I’m not sure how far I jogged tonight, but I’m confident it was the farthest I’ve gone this year, maybe ever. All I know is I was gone for two or two-and-a-half hours, and I jogged the majority of the time. But I also tried to take in the city and dream about living here one day, so I stopped to look around, explore. I saw a shirt with a kid hugging a unicorn that said, “Hold your horses.” I found out hotels are a great place to use the restroom and grab a drink of water–just walk in and look like you belong.

Here’s a picture of a gay bar that I thought had a great name–Cheer Up Charlies (like the song from Willy Wonka).

My jog took me to South Congress, which if you’re going south to north and cross the Colorado River, becomes just regular Congress and runs smack dab into the capitol building. Anyway, first I went south (away from the capitol), and then I turned around and went north (toward it). I can’t tell you how much I’ve fallen in love with this view and this city while being here this week.

There’s a quote by Chris Prentiss that says, “Not only is the Universe aware of us, but it also communicates with us. We, in turn, are constantly in communication with the Universe through our words, thoughts, and actions. The Universe responds with events. Events are the language of the Universe. The most obvious of those events are what we call coincidence.”

I thought a lot about this idea while I was running, the idea that the universe communicates. Honestly, I used to think that the universe–or God–didn’t notice me, wasn’t interested. But I’ve been coming around to the idea that it does, not just saying it but actually believing it. And I guess you could make a meaning out of anything, but sometimes when I see particular road signs or hear certain songs, I like to think that God is talking me.

Tonight on South Congress, I found the sign above that says, “I love you so much.” After that, there was another sign on a hotel that said, “Let love in.” Neither message was earth shattering, but both were subtle reminders that there’s a lot more good in the world than I’ve previously believed. I can’t prove to you that I was “meant” to see those messages tonight, but I could have ended up on any other road tonight, run by any number of other signs. And of all the signs I did pass, those are the ones that caught by attention. So whatever you call it, I think there’s something “out there,” or more likely “in here” that’s nudging me in the direction of “life ain’t so bad.”

Cheer up, Charlie.

When I got home from the run, I was drenched, breathing heavily. And I guess I can only stand so much healthy living for one day, since I drank a soda and smoked a cigarette (and then threw the rest of the pack away). Then I took a shower, made some toast, and sat down with a to-go container of peanut butter and a miniature jar of strawberry preserves that someone had left in the refrigerator.

And get this shit.

The lid on the jar said, “Straw Berry Manilow.” Barry Manilow! How great is that? I actually laughed out loud. I mean, it’s clever marketing to start with, but I love that I was learning about Bette and Barry earlier this evening, and then there’s this funny little reminder that not only is the universe capable of lining up some pretty amazing messages if we’re willing to see them (how much work would it take YOU to put Barry Manilow in someone’s Facebook feed AND Berry Manilow in their Airbnb refrigerator on the same day?), but that also God has a delightful sense of humor.

Barry, berry delightful indeed.

The quote earlier referred to events like these as coincidences. Carl Jung called them synchronicities, and he believed they stemmed from the fact that all of life is connected. He called that connection Unus Mundus, which is Latin for “one world.” Sometimes I just imagine that God is like a child playing hide-and-seek. After a while, it’s no fun to stay hidden, so you have to start dropping hints. Hey, I’m over here. Look at this sign. Now I’m over here–in the Straw Berry Manilow preserves. That’s right, I’m talking to you.

Oh hey, God. Fine. You have my attention.