Darn you Hallmark Channel!

Last night as I was cleaning up my bedroom I turn on the television, as I’m want to do.  I always seem to need background noise.  I think this is because growing up in a home where humanity seemed to crawl through at all times of the day or night making very loud noises, I became accustomed.  Now in my own home with only P and myself there aren’t many sounds to be heard.  I mean sure we have the occasional conversation about this or that but after 17 years we pretty much have it down.   The television can sometimes be our salvation although neither of us is too adverse to turning off the tube and simply reading or browsing the internet. 

Anyhow, it’s a little past 10 and most of the shows I like to catch have come and gone.  Now I’m on ‘let’s roll the dice and see what I win’ mode.  May be some History channel?  A little Discovery, anyone?  Oh wait, Nat Geo is having a special on…mmmm…  Anthony Bourdain’s new show is on CNN, right?  Wait, wait did you see that monster cake on Food Network…and sometimes an oldie but goodie will make reappearance in the form of “Friends” or even “Who’s the Boss”.  I loved me some Tony Danza.

Scrolling through the TV guide (and may I just take a moment here to say how much I miss the old paper magazine TV guides?   I think that’s where we honed our original research skills trying to figure out what time and on which channel that show was on.  The pictures were fun too) and my eyes glazed over.  Talk about information overload.  Before I go on, let me ask you folks, why the heck do we need 1000 channels to appease our ravenous need for entertainment?  What does this say about humanity precisely?  Are we so greedy that just 5 channels can’t satisfy us?  Heck I remember the days when we did only have 5 channels and one of them was fuzz!  What did we do about it?  Not a darn thing.  We simply adjusted the bunny rabbit metal antennas, turned the broken nob with pliers (which emitted loud ‘click click’ noises) to the channel we wanted and sat strategically around the room for maximum non-interference of television watching.

Okay, now moving on.  At one point I just stopped and went about my business figuring that sound was sound, it wasn’t as if I was really watching anything.  There I was folding socks (who doesn’t love folding socks…I prefer the balled up method) wondering where the matching pair goes to die/hide when to my horror I hear “jingle bells, jingle bells…”  My whole body instantly tensed.  What in the heck… I had to double check quickly that I hadn’t somehow stumbled into a time machine and was delivered to my future (note:  my future still has folding socks in it…boo).  Alas it was but Nov 3 and sure enough there was Christmas music blaring from the TV.  For an instant I dismissed it as a possible commercial blurb (which is still not okay).

Looking up I wasn’t surprised to see that it was the Hallmark Channel making this entire ruckus nor was I shocked in the least that they were already blaring out uplifting jingle bell-y music.  Oh boy was I not happy. 

Immediately I fumed quietly, socks forgotten.  It’s November, NOT December…NOVEMBER, I railed internally.  And during the commercial break the channel kept advertising “25 days till Xmas”.  Um, who’s the marketing genius who clearly doesn’t know how to count?  It’s not that difficult.  Hell, ask the homeless guy outside, he’d probably be able to count down for you.  Just sayin’.

So yea can we say ‘too much’?  It’s all too much.  I am a huge fan of Thanksgiving and would like it to get the do respect that it deserves.  Instead of leaping ahead in time, creating the hoopla that inevitably will happen with all this buildup, how about taking it one holiday at a time?   Don’t get me wrong, I love me some Christmas.  Yes, yes, I’m a Muslim but living in a country where the predominant holiday is not Islamic, one has to make do with what they got.  I admit freely that I have an extra little bounce in my step when I hear the nonstop insistent deck-the-halls music, see the twinkling lights everywhere winking at you and sip hot cocoa in cold nippy weather.  I j’adore scarves and gloves and fuzzy wool hats too.  I love peaking at trees decorated beautifully in the windows of neighbors home as I walk (or drive) by.  Wait, that last sentence really made me sound like a stalker.  I’m not.  I’m talking casual stroll people, not lurking behind trees or in bushes peering with binoculars. 

But come on, give me some Thanksgiving first.  In fact, let the anticipation of Dec 25 build.  Actually 2 months’ worth of ‘building’ is overkill.  Once the day arrives you’re almost let down.  You have to go ‘oh wait, that was it, wasn’t it?’  Turn on the anticipation dial once we hit the 1^st of December mark on the calendar!  And in the meantime why can’t we just anticipate another awesome holiday?  I want to see more items around the homes being covered in fall foliage, more papier-mâché turkeys being pasted or put on surfaces of desk/homes, way more goofy Pilgrim felt cut outs, pumpkin pies literally perfuming the air and endless yummy thanksgiving recipes being flashed up on the television screen.  I want to really look forward to getting up and watching the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade (which I’m sad to report that I never see in its entirety since I’m snoozing and usually only catch the last 30 minutes of) and fall into a food coma later after having eaten too much.   

I want to anticipate all this but it just can’t happen I fear because with Xmas thrust into our faces by all media outlets as well as retailers, it’s hard to focus on what’s in the immediate future.   

I protest people, this is me totally protesting! 

Did I turn off the television in outrage or at least change the channel to something more season appropriate?  Of course not…don’t be ridiculous.  Have you seen these Hallmark movies?  The ones they air particularly during this time of the year?  They’re all about love and family and fuzzy bunnies…may be not the last one as much as the first two but ‘fuzzy bunny’ feelings are in ample display.  Even the most hardened cynical non-romantic heart secretly loves these sappy movies.  I have a few male friends who walk around projecting an air of uber masculinity but have come out of the closet and professed that there had been occasions when they found themselves drawn into some movie or another where the end scene is crescendo-ing trumpets, falling snow and two people embracing or kissing.  Yup, that’s just how these movies roll.  They suck you in and won’t let you go till the credits roll.  How can you resist such feel goodie-ness?

You may be wondering if I’ve watched any more since. 

Yes…yes I have.  (I’m a total and utter sucker).

Meh…happy ‘pre’ holidays. 

Musings of a Worker Bee

Oh you’re wondering where I went to again, aren’t you?  You’re even considering just deleting the direct link for my blog since I hardly update it and it’s doing nothing but cluttering up your favorites.  I understand.  I really do. 

PLEASE DON’T LEAVE ME!  *sobs dramatically*

Alright, I’m better now.

For those who don’t know, I’ve been unemployed for the better part of 2.5 months.  This is the second such case in the span of two years.  It has not been fun if you’re wondering and I’m sure you are.  The first one was due to a lay-off, the second one was because the company was…okay let me stay professional and not comment overmuch on it.  All I can say is that we (“we” being the firm HR and myself) didn’t quite see eye-to-eye on most things.  We parted ways with a bit of congeniality and a lot of angst.  I was so not upset when I walked out of that place with the one and only possession I really kept there, a painting of a sunset from Jamaica.

However the idea of having no money to pay bills did sort of stop me from leaving the firm after the first day of employment (yes, it was just that bad) and kept me there until my ‘boss’ said to me that a normal 40 hour work week was just not enough to be a successful employee in that place.  Um okay. 

Never mind that for the nearly month prior to this conversation  I had been working up to an excess of 70+ hours or that I was there so much that I had to drag in personal hygiene products to work so that I didn’t unnecessarily offend anyone with work stink.  Never mind that I rarely saw P awake or that I couldn’t even remember what it was like to eat a normal meal at home that didn’t have to be microwaved.  Never mind that I used to dream of privilege logs and SOW’s.  Yea, never mind all that.  She clearly didn’t.

There was also the fact that I had long since started to feel a sense of unrest regarding my chosen profession.  Yes, I wanted to be in law but didn’t want to go to law school.  My idea of a good life was never to spend 300K in tuition, join a law firm and become the slave to the executive committee (or partners for that matter).  No offense to any of you partners out there who may be reading this.  So I chose the paralegal profession not realized the following:

1.  It’s a thankless job
2.  You work incredibly long arduous hours
3.  You get treated like crap
4.  You get looked down upon for being “just a paralegal”
5.  You get asked questions such as “why didn’t you go to law school?  You couldn’t get in?  You’re too smart to be doing what you’re doing!”  (This is when I have to really bite my tongue and not spit out venomously “No wanker, I did get in, I was just too smart to actually go…now move on and go talk down to someone else…a-hole.”)
6.  You will never ever be respected as a professional from anyone other than those who work directly with you.

There are more reasons but I think these are enough.  I know I blogged about this before so go back and read if you’re that curious.

It took a while to get to the point where I actually handed in my notice, mostly because I knew that I didn’t want to go from the frying pan directly into the fryer but I had absolutely 0 clue as to how to make any sort of leap into another profession.  I’ve been a Paralegal since graduation and that’s all I’ve ever been.  There was also the pesky problem of having no money.  Whatever I did, I had to do it fast, that much I was certain.

I truly was lost as to the next step in my professional career.  How did I grow?  How would I advance?  How would I make myself relevant and stay that way in a world where even people my age were becoming swiftly irrelevant in the face of automation?  What possible field could I slip seamlessly into without starting right at the bottom?  These questions plagued me for a long time but near the end of my stay with the last job they were starting to clamor for an answer.  I had none.

Then one day I met with a dear friend (who actually was an attorney at one of my prior firms) and he said to me “remember, in order to take a step forward, you’ll have to take a step back”.  He also told me to look into myself and figure out what most brought me satisfaction and joy.  Seemed like an easy enough thing to do but I can tell you it wasn’t.  He was my own personal wise Yoda, except he wasn’t all that short and not green. 

I found myself plopped upon the leather sofa at home brooding.  I would stare at nothing in particular while the little hamster wheel in my head turned and turned.  Eventually I totally had a ‘come to Jesus moment’ and the dim bulb in my head shown bright.  I knew what I wanted to do, what I found pleasure and passion in, no matter how cheesy that may sound.

After that life took on a bizarre turn.  I spent hours scouring job posts and applying but in many ways my efforts were almost demonic.  When I wasn’t searching and applying I was taking long drives thinking about the searching and applying.  The market wasn’t great but P assured me that financially we were okay for a while yet.  As most of you can attest to, when you have a two income family already set up, it’s hard to go to a single but we pulled up our grown-up pants and tightened our proverbial belts.  I will happily declare that P was amazing during this time.  He stepped back and let me figure out my path without interference.  In fact my whole family was pretty darn great about it as were my friends.  I felt as if (this time) I wasn’t a failure, I was just simply making a shift and it was okay.

I have joined a new place now.  It is still in my industry; I’m still working with lawyers but rather on the opposite side of the spectrum, meaning I’m more on the consultancy side.  Not that I’m consulting, no at the end of the day I did take a step back but it was a good healthy one.  Now my environment has drastically changed.  The folks here are congenial, fun and very welcoming.  It is no less intense than any firm but somehow that’s okay.   I have been given an office bigger than any one I had prior and it even has a window.  When first shown to my new little part of the world, I leaned into the HR person S and whispered to her “are you sure this is my office?”

She looked slightly flummoxed.  She leaned back and said “yes, I’m sure, why?”

I glanced about a bit nervously and responded, “this just can’t be it, I’m sure there’s a broom closet that has my name outside its door.”

She seemed quite sad by this statement (although I had managed to squeeze in a little laugh to alleviate any awkwardness), took me by the arm to the corridor and pointed at my name plate.  “Is this your name?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Then this is your office.”  Well she told me (with a squeeze of my arm and a laugh).

As soon as I was alone I took pictures and texted those to a few loved ones. 

I don’t know if you can fully appreciate what this small little thing meant to me.  May be some of you out there has always had a big office with a window (and balcony).  May be your voice was always listened to and your advice is taken seriously.  May be you aren’t marginalized and always looked right through.  But for me, other than those teams that I worked with closely, these things have always and consistently happened to me. 

Do you know how this feels?  Do you have any clue how frustrating it is when you work day in and day on a project where you never ever get credit?  Do you have even an inkling of how degrading it is when you go home after a very long stressful day and realize you never even received a thank you for all your efforts?  Do you know what it’s like to lie in bed and think to yourself “I’m just not important in the grand scheme of things, am I?  These people do not in the least appreciate me at all simply because I didn’t go to law school.”

To have an instant where you’ve reduced your whole professional life to these questions simply suck.  To have these things flash through your mind all the time simply suck worse.  It beats you down and embitters you.    It takes a normally happy upbeat person and turns them into a scowling angry bitchy soul. 

I had been there.  I had turned into one of those people who woke up in the mornings and spent far too long staring up at the ceiling trying to convince herself to get up, go to work, it’ll be fine.  But during the last year in particular it was never really quite ‘fine’.  The brightest silver lining of that experience was the friends I made.  Dear ones that shall always be apart of my existence moving forward and even if I had never been validated by my “superiors” at least my counterparts knew what I was worth.  This was enough.

I don’t know what the future holds, not here, not anywhere.  Who does, right?  But I can tell you this (and I’m sure many have over the years, I’m just reiterating):  You’re future may be set by God, but you have to be proactive about it.  You have to get off your duff and go find whatever your ‘ultimate’ is and yes nothing is ever handed to you on a beautiful gleaming silver platter.  We wish it were otherwise and may be a few lucky individuals out there have had that luck but for the rest of us every day human drones/cogs/minions, it’s just one big ol’ struggle isn’t it?  We just hope and pray that with enough good deeds, enough toiling and struggling, enough honesty and perseverance, we will be rewarded.

I’m not taking for granted that I still won’t have those mornings when I’m firmly one with my mattress wishing there was a huge snow storm that would make it impossible for me to go to work, that’s normal but for now I’m satisfied (Allhamdulillah) and Allah (swt) has heard me and my prayers.  What else more can I want? 

(A lot more but let me not sound like a total ingrate.)

Oh Crap...not another weather related blog...

When I woke up this morning I had a boat load of things to do.  Having every intention of completing them all before leaving for music class, I set my alarm and in fact even woke up when it rang without beating the crap out of it.  I felt accomplished, impressed with my own maturity as well as single-minded determination.  What did I do in celebration?  Why I went right back to sleep. 

Right...

Okay so let's say I 'dozed' for a bit, played Candy Crush in-between and laid in bed like a bump on a log.  I heard the wind sort of howling outside so that lowered the need to actually get out from under the comforter (oh lovely goose down, welcome back into my existence).  Suddenly that to-do list of things degenerated to ‘I can get to that tomorrow, right?’  This sort of thing isn’t a-typical for me.  My brain hates me for it later when I’m struggling to reconfigure a well laid out day but things seem to always come together somehow. 

Texting back and forth with my besties, giggling with a cold nose was buried under the covers I found myself totally relaxed yet wracked with guilt.  Eventually I did get up and got dressed.  This is where the problem lay, getting dressed.

You who have been reading my blogs for a while now know that I have a slight obsession with the weather.  Frankly even I don’t get it but there it is.  And for those of you who do not live anywhere near me, then you won’t know just how bizarre things have been around these parts of late.

In the past I’ve waxed on poetically about fall.  I love this particular season.  Okay don’t worry, I won’t be all redundant and repeat everything that I’ve written before (although it was very picturesque if I do say so myself) but just know, I LOVE THIS SEASON.  I also believe that my scarves, cute hats, boots and outerwear wait impatiently all summer long for the return of fall so they can all come tumbling out of storage.  You can’t convince me otherwise so don’t bother. 

Okay moving on, I’ve been always keen to note that as soon as Labor Day here has passed (early September) the weather becomes immediately nippy and the trees start to turn colors.  May be no one else really observes this but I sure do, even having mentioned it to those willing to listen (most aren’t so I don’t think there are any witnesses to back me up).  This year however Mother Nature has once again decided to play a ‘ha ha fooled you’ sort of game with us I think.  Just when we make silly assumptions about something as simple as weather, she switches things up to a.) play with us, b.) laugh at us, c.) exact revenge upon our sorry abusive soles, d.) is plain ol’ bored and hurricane season still hasn’t arrived or e.) to confuse.  There could be an option f, which would be to show us mere mortals that nothing is ever static and we should never get too comfortable with what we know is to be true.  I don’t like that option I admit.  Any which way…I think she’s quite the sly minx, yes she is.    

So in the last few days instead of nippy and cool, we get hot.  Not just hot but scorching hot.  The hot that has you racing to turn on the AC or throwing on the thinnest clothing that you can find and praying that the leather seats of your car doesn’t scorch your butt.  Yes, it’s the hot that should be reserved for July or early August, most certainly not September.  Frankly, this is nothing but a travesty.  I am outraged (so much so that I’m actually going to resort to using an exclamation point…jeez)!

I am sure there are plenty of people out there who are rejoicing in the lengthened summer we’re having, the unseasonable warmth, the beating sun.  I am not one of those nut-bags.  There should be a certain order to things, a way that things should fall.  “I before E except for after C’…July comes after June, 2+2 = 4 (*double checks the math*) and most importantly fall is after summer…after folks, after.  Summer does not get to usurp falls space, times up, you’re outta here.  But that’s not what’s been happening.  I’m quite put out by all this and therefore have been walking around with a scowl upon my brow…actually a sweaty scowl, which is so not okay. 

Today however I didn’t need to scowl because the temp dropped.  Started to do so as of yesterday to be accurate therefore as I stood there contemplating my closet, I shivered, a sure indication that may be fall had finally arrived.  I was hopeful to be perfectly honest but I also was a bit doubtful.  A few times in the past the climate of my domicile had fooled me into believing that the outside reflected the inside.  Wrong.  This time though the wind had to be some sort of indicator, right?  So with trepidation and a prayer upon my lips I wrapped one of my favorite cotton (appropriately fall-ish) scarves around my neck, poked my head out the front door and was met with…nippy coolness!  Woo! (Lookie, more exclamation points.)

I just implore that Ms. Nature stops’ confusing us because honestly all the sickness that has been making the rounds lately has got to be in direct relation to her games, right? What else could explain it?  And also may be she can take pity on all us fall lovers out here who like to walk through leaves and enjoy snapping pictures of colorful foliage as well as enjoy hot cider outside while wearing a light outer layer and give us our beloved season?  Is that asking for too much?  I think not.   

In case you were wondering, I didn’t get even half my to-do list completed but that didn’t seem to matter much.  I could smell autumn in the air and even spied some early Halloween decorations up in neighbor’s yards.

All I can say is…yay! (Shamefully, one more...exclamation point that is.)

As I mentioned, today was also music class.  My dad seems bent on ruining my life.  He is sadistic.  I love him, but he’s sadistic.  He has, in one fell swoop, killed every Sunday from now till the music competition.  I’ll explain more as we move along.  You’ll be seeing a lot of moaning, groaning and hyperventilating connected to this.  *sigh*

Oh oh, wait, one more thing.  We’ve recently been enjoying some pretty spectacular sunsets. The news folks busted out into elaborate explanations as to why but I wasn’t paying any attention so I can’t retell the scientific details.  Pity that I hadn’t thought of grabbing my DSLR to snap the pictures, iPhone ones will have to do.  But here’s a picture.  Enjoy.

 

Rainy Monday Musings

In my present unemployed state, yes in case you hadn’t realized I am indeed unemployed, I have taken up the habit of coming to Starbucks with my lappy and at least acting as if I’m doing something important.  I took up this habit a year and some change ago when I was laid off but at that time coming to Starbucks often included sobbing into my coffee as I wondered what had gone so terribly wrong with my life.  This time things are different.  I chose to be unemployed and haven’t looked back once since making this decision.  My unemployment is not common knowledge to a lot of friends, even those who are on FB but that’s because I do have some sense of privacy. 

Judiciously I decided not to make the announcement at all this time because I was warned by someone I trust and love that even those who I think of as ‘well-wishers’ may be judging me.  I had to give this some legit thought.  After all I’m fairly sure a lot of people wonder why I’m on FB as much as I am but heck I used to do that even when I was employed so there’s nothing unusual there.  Anyhow taking the advice for a certain length of time, I’ve decided to sort of come out of the closet.  If my friends don’t read my blog, they won’t know but can’t be outraged over the non-information either because if they were friends, wouldn’t they be reading this blog?

Now it isn’t like I don’t want to be employed, more like I have decided to take a rest, which P had fully encouraged.  I’ve diligently sent resumes out into the world, have even had a few bites as well as interviews but things, particularly in this economic climate, have been moving slow.  Thinks snail’s pace.  Not a problem.  I’ve had more time to myself to do those things I don’t usually do such as grabbing my camera, driving to some spot I have yet to visit and take pictures to my heart’s content.  I’ve also had a lot of op to read.  I’ve devoured many books in the past few weeks and feel as if I’m somehow getting a bit of ‘me’ back again.  And then there are those rare chances where I can even make friends.  That’s what one does when they’re often grabbing lunch alone somewhere.  People sit next to you and strike up conversations randomly.  Sometimes you don’t want to deal with it therefore ear buds are popped in and the world is tuned out.  However there are rare occasions where the person next to you needs company as much as you do.  I have met some fairly fascinating as well as weird folks.  A few make me wonder why they are out in the world at that time of day while others make me thankful that they aren’t employed and working amongst the sane.  These latter folks are the ones who I picture one day grabbing a weapon and going postal.  This isn’t funny as much as it is simple true.  This world is just chalk full of some pretty weird tickets. 

Anyhow my favorite destination is still Starbucks even though I’ve roamed near as well as far.  I sort of like the chill atmosphere, the quick availability of good java only a few paces away, an outlet you can hook up to as well as free Wi-Fi.  What else does a body need? 

Most of the time I’m banging away at my computer editing a chapter of a book, downloading music or stalking FB friends but there are moments when conversation can’t be tuned out and I’m privy to a plethora of interesting tid-bits. And this is precisely why I’m blogging today.

Rainy and dank I decided that I was rotting inside the house therefore I gathered together gear, braved the elements and found a quiet corner in the coffee shop that played soft music (the shop, not the corner).  After snagging a hot beverage I sat and was checking my emails when the conversation from the couple next to me drifted over.  Honestly I was sitting so close that there wasn’t much space to drift and I shamelessly listened.  An older couple sat together, the woman blushing a bit as she spoke to the gentleman who was grinning widely at her.  To be honest, I don’t think they noticed me at all.

They were speaking about her daughter’s recent wedding at some ranch.  She was describing the event in detail, quickly assuring him that it wasn’t as ‘kitschy’ as it sounded.    He quickly said ‘oh yes, I’m sure it wasn’t’ soothing her as I smiled behind my coffee.  Their conversation continued but I decided that I would leave them to it and listen to my music.  Even if they were in a public place, some privacy was deserved. 

As I sat with my legs crossed “Indian” style under me, flip flops kicked off, hair slightly wet from the rain, I wondered fleetingly if the two weren’t on their first meet up. It isn’t uncommon for a first date to be a casual meeting at a coffee place and these two had the earmarks of such a thing happening.  Her blush wasn’t the only indication.  They were leaning into each other but there was a certain amount of reserve.  They were sharing information that two people who had a long standing relationship would probably be imparting to one another.  It was adorable to watch them (out of the corner of my eyes which I admit gave me a slight headache) and my writers mind went off in all sorts of directions.

I wondered whether it was in fact the first date and if so would there be a second.  Was she into him?  Was he smiling at her in that way thinking he wanted to see her again?  What would the next meet up be like?  Would he call on her?  Would he court her, woo her with flowers, may be roses or would he go for tulips?  Would they go to some place to dance to Sinatra reminiscing about their youth or would she get gussied up so he could take her to some fancy restaurant in the city?  He seemed a gentleman and she looked so proper elegant.  Surely he would wear a suit and she would wear pearls!  If they didn’t, I think my spirit would be disappointed.  Would they exchange a kiss on the first date?  Or would they wait a respectful amount of time?  How that generation handled the whole dating thing anyhow, I wondered. 

It’s pretty late at night right now.  They’ve left long since even before I departed but all evening my mind was still making stories regarding their progressing possibly budding romance.  I caught myself smiling over them several times.  I dunno…I haven’t always considered myself big on romance; I’m a bit too pragmatic for all that.  I don’t know if I believe in that ‘forever after’ sort of love.  I’m more the type that trusts that love fades with time, even the most greatest of loves.  I believe that had Romeo and Juliet lived and gotten married, she’d be bitching about him leaving wet towels on the bathroom floor and he’d be making excuses to escape the house from her constant nagging.  Their kids would eat up their time, their families would drive them crazy and their jobs would take every waking hour away from each other.  That the once passionate love affair they shared would eventually turn into a warm sort of comfortable “well worn” pair of fuzzy slippers sort of affection. 

You wonder what that is?  Well, it’s precisely what it sounds like.  Those favorite slippers that you slide your feet into that makes you feel at home, the same ones that you could never fathom being rid of and no matter how many new pairs can be out there in the market, you would never ever replace them.  The very thought of it in fact makes you unhappy.  Yes, that’s the sort of love I think most romance sort of morphs into…but…

For those out there who are single, reading this and are thinking “well that’s a damn shame” let me tell you this, it isn’t.  If you are one of those seriously lucky individuals who can in fact wake up every morning not wanting to trade your spouse/lover/boyfriend/girlfriend in for a new model, then mazel tov.  If you, in fact, can go through the day without cursing the very thought of your beloved into nonexistence, then hurray.  If by the time you lay your weary head upon your (too expensive) pillow after doing the varied amounts of things that make you want to run away to an island and forget your very name, yet have also managed NOT to throttle your ‘better’ half, then guess what…good for you.  And most importantly, when after so many years of cohabitating together you still slightly worry where he/she is when they’re late and find yourself calling them or peering out the window looking for their car, then seriously bravo.  You’ve somehow managed to attain what I think is the ‘holy grail’ of relationships. 

Manic passion, romance filled with hearts and cupids, crazy gotta have it now sex, heat that scorches the skin, an insanity that grips you upon simply glancing at your object of lust, and all those other things are well and good but they all eventually dim in intensity, with time.  Life intrudes upon all this to knock you upside the head and yell at you to pay attention to it.  This is just a fact (or at least fact from my point of view). 

For those out there who have found what I described above, congratulations.  I hope that you continue to be happy and secure and yes even sometimes fuzzy slipper comfy.  For those who have not found it, I hope that one day you do.  I’m not cursing you, I swear it.  Don’t worry, I mean I’m not saying it’s all boring and humdrum…not at all.  It’s up to you to put the zing in your relationship, to try new things, to spice it all up, to make memories within all those non-memorable days.  But when at times you look at the person who sits across from you each morning and night, who shares your life as well as your bed and think ‘what the hell, how did we become so damn dull?  When did we become that couple?’ then also tell yourself ‘boring isn’t so bad, may be tomorrow we’ll try…’ and move on, plot.  

My suggestion, don’t do what I sometimes find myself doing.  I will read something or watch something on the tube that will push me down a spiral of longing for romance which I will realize I don’t really have anymore.  In a flurry of anger and resentment I will turn on P and literally blindside him with demands for this and that while flinging accusations at him of what he doesn’t do or neglected to do.  He’ll often stand there looking dazed and confused, scratching his noggin and wondering why he came home from work at all (he doesn’t say that but I can see it in his eyes).  But the poor guy really isn’t to blame.  For the most part I’m pretty undemanding.  Media is the devil I tell you.

I don’t know where I was originally going with this blog.  It started off with just relating how cute I thought this particular couple had been, turning into what I wrote above.  There is a lot more I can say about love/marriage but this isn’t the blog for it.  May be however it’s a good start?

Anyhow, off to bed.  Have a good one folks.  Oh, I also haven’t forgotten the rest of the Seattle entries but I can easily compare myself to a 2 year old who quickly loses interest in her old toys.  Seattle is an old toy for right now. 

Seattle: Aug 19...Vancouver? Um...No...wait...

There is nothing like getting up in the morning with plans in your head totally enthused about the day that loomed before you with all its possibilities and then an attack of 'lazy' comes and embraces you so tight that instead of jumping out of bed at 9am sharp (which you absolutely intend to do in the first place, really, honestly!) instead you punch the 'off' of your alarm clock and go right back to sleep. 

Something like this may have happened to me that bright Monday morning.  I did get up thinking Vancouver but another long drive suddenly seemed unappetizing.  Also, I think all the traveling about had finally caught up with me because my stomach wasn't feeling happy at all.  Sitting cross-legged on the big comfy bed, I sipped seltzer water and watched the news.  Actually I was watching the weather.  Rain was nowhere in the vicinity and I had to wonder if I was truly in Seattle at all.  Not in the mood to wander too far from the erm...facilities, I stayed put till my annoyingly restless nature shoved me out the door. 

Since the rest of the week was now pretty much solidified with unchangeable plans, the only option I had was to finally do the whole touristy downtown Seattle thing.  Since I had been there as recent as Saturday night I was fairly confident regarding where I was going.  Busting out the backpack, I shoved two bottles of water, my camera and wallet as well as cell, gum, lip gloss and shades.  I was all prepared.  My stomach still wasn't thrilled but I told it to shut up because the day waited. 

It was indeed as beautiful a day as the weatherman promies as I drove into the city, a short 15 minute drive as the GPS guided me toward the Seattle Space Needle.  What is this you ask?  Here you go:

 

After parking, I hoofed it to the desk to purchase a ticket and then zipped up several feet to the observation tower.  What I saw was breathtaking and although I had to battle plenty of people to get a good spot in order to take pictures, I indeed won (with a few gentle pushes and equally gentle nudges with my elbow...all accompanied with respectful 'oh excuse me' and a smile).  Here are some of what I saw.  I can't necessarily tell you what it was I was precisely gazing at but still lovely:

That big house you see?  My summer home, of course.  Nice, right?  Ahem.  And of course the last picture is the ferry, oh how well I know it.  Naturally I took about two million pictures all of which now look exactly alike thus I have decided to prudently not post all of them here however my FB friends will not be so lucky since I have every intention of uploading a flurry of pictures that will make them either groan in frustration or wonder if they aren't seeing the same thing 10,000 times. 

Moving on...so after enjoying a drink while almost wistfully watching groups of people taking pictures, laughing and sharing the spectacular view together, I had to push away the longing for my family and friends while soldiering on bravely.  Even though I had already spent many days alone, I thus far never felt quite so isolated as I did that day.  Independence is well and good but togetherness is so much better, lesson learned.

Back on land...okay on the ground floor, I took these pictures of the museum next door which boasted amazing blown glass sculptures.  I didn't actually go inside; there was a garden outside so that's where these pics were shot:

 

 

Yes, these are blown glass.  I was in awe.  Not so much awe that I would spend the bucks to actually go inside but awe nonetheless.  By that time it was about 3 and I realized I hadn't had anything other than seltzer water.  My stomach grumbled in protest yet once again  but I told it to shut up simply because I didn't have much time on my hands to do all that I wanted to do, namely find out where the hop on/hop off tour buses were located.  In the meantime here is a band I stood to listen to for a bit, tapping my feet in the process.

 

And as you can see I found the bus kiosk also therefore I was set.  Armed with another ticket, I found the stop and waited patiently in rather sweltering heat.  In case you have no clue as to what these buses are all about, let me tell you quickly.  Basically they offer routes.  You can get on and off at will, however many times your sightseeing heart wishes and for as long as you wish (of course you best catch the last bus back to wherever it is your car is parked).  The pimply bored kid at the ticket counter took pity on me seeing the late hour and gave me a half-pricer so that wasn't a bad deal. I'd like to think it was my winning nature that compelled him to give me the discount but I suspected that it was probably that he wanted me to get the hell away and leave him alone. 

Typically in the past, when in Rome (no, literally, the city Rome), Barcelona, Nice, P and I had quickly realized that these buses were the optimum way of seeing a city fast with limited time on hand, no matter how dorky and touristy we may have appeared.  Hey, if I need to use a bus like this, the fact is I am a tourist.  Why be ashamed of it? 

Usually we would stay put in the bus, doing one large circuit and then go back to wherever we were interested in seeing for longer than 2 seconds as we zoomed by.  Since I was already late in my exploring that day, I picked Pike Place to stop and really have a long stroll figuring that after this if I wanted to see anything else I would do so, time permitting. 

Here's what my peepers peeped (only but a few) as the trolley (yea so I've been saying bus but actually it was a trolley) zipped along:

As I mentioned before, on Saturday more than 90% of the vendors had already closed shop therefore I wasn't able to see much or get the full experience.  That Monday afternoon as I scrambled off the loud clanking creaking vehicle at Pike Place, I was practically slapped in the face with the whole loud, colorful, smelly wonderfulness of this outdoor/indoor market.  My senses were overwhelmed almost immediately as the powerful stench of seafood engulfed me.  I hate using the word 'stench' because it was far from disgusting, just...fishy!

First stop was this place:

As you see its "World Famous" so It must be when so prominently proclaimed on the banner, right?  But all kidding aside, in fact this place is well known, recommended to visit on nearly every tourist pamphlet or even by word of mouth and as I approached I saw a vast crowd standing about in anticipation.  Of what you wonder?  Why the fish flinging of course!  Yes, you didn't read that wrong.  Apparently, when someone orders a fish (a whole one, not cutlets or steaks), with a mighty unified war cry the guys behind the counter (and the ones in the front) scream the fish type and let fly.  See the pic above?  You get the idea?  Did I get to see this happen?  Well yes, however I hadn't expected it and the fishy fish flew before I could put camera to eye.  Bad, bad photographer.  Pity though.  They rarely, if ever, miss or so I have heard.  And if you're brave and not adverse to getting fish goo on your hands, I believe they'll let spectators also throw around a few salmon.  It's odd I confess, to see a whole bunch of folks just standing around hoping that seafood will go flying but hey I wasn't going to miss out so I joined them.  In the process I caught these pics also:

 

Seriously, don't ask me who any of these folks are.  I don't know them. 

By this time, my stomach was pretty pissed off at me and was retaliating by giving me the shakes.  It was late and I had yet to eat a darn thing, not even trail mix *gasp*.  I found a stall, bought some shrimp tempura, stood by like a homeless waif and wolfed them down with a bottle of Izze Orange.  I barely tasted what I was eating simply because the interest wasn't there but I do recall it being quite good.  I was ready for some more wandering and here are a few more pics (of course):

 

Oh, oh the selection!  The smells!  The colors!  It was all so absolutely beautiful.  I didn't mind the bumping and dodging of humanity since the happiness of being there was enough.  I tried to figure out whether I could reasonably cart one of the gorgeous bouquets of flowers (which were dirt cheap) back to the hotel with me but rejected that idea as silly.  After all I had a lot more gawking and taking of pictures to do so I reluctantly walked on.   What amazed me was that in this space you could find anything from baby’s bibs to cheesy t-shirts to stunning jewelry all scattered amongst the fish mongers and jams/jelly sellers.  What to see?  Where to go?  It was so much that surely I could take more than a day to go hither and yon yet still not see it all.  And, later, I discovered there was even a second floor to the darn place.

 

Moving through that half covered (half) indoor market, I came to the outside part where more vendors were set up hawking their wares and smiling in such a friendly fashion that you couldn't help but grin back.  I gave everything a good look see but walked on to the park where I sat and called P while eyeing the vista.  Here are a few pictures of this part of my wandering: 

Plonked on a bench out in the blazing sun, I could feel the spirit of these beatnik folks all around and laughed a bit self-consciously.  I realized just how un-cool and non-beatnik I truly was.  Still I sat and listened to the sounds of life around me, this time though instead of waves crashing on the shore and gulls flying by overhead, it was the laughter of happy folks, the strumming of guitars, the soft singing of someone in the distance, the exhilaration of cars and the rumble of trucks not far away. 

 

I told P what I was looking at and he sighed a long drawn out breath, expressing to me (again) how he wished he were with me experiencing all that I was.  I totally got it. 

 

Soon though my mind went to coffee, which made sense seeing as where I was but more importantly, I wanted Starbucks.  Why Starbucks specifically?  Well hello, in case you didn't know, the first SB opened up right at that spot in 1971.  I was however praying that the lines, which had been literally out the door and down the street all day long, wouldn't be as bad at that time of day.  To my vast relief it wasn't, at least not when I stepped into the queue but within minutes sure enough behind me was a snake of human coffee lovers that went at least 30 long.  "Sucks to be them," I thought to myself with glee. 

 

After nearly a half hour of waiting, ordering, waiting, scoring, waiting while they fixed the drink that they had gotten wrong, then leaving, I ended with what you see here in the pic above, a peppermint mocha Frappuccino (yum yum).  It totally hit the spot.

 

On I went, sipping the cold frosty drink while the condensation rolled down my arm but I didn't mind since it was hot outside, even then while I eyed more stalls, more goodies.  At one point I came across a French bakery where I had to buy myself some fresh made macaroons.  Don't be too jealous while I flash you.

 

In case you were wondering, these were indeed as scrumptious as they looked although it took me 2 days to eat 4 of them.  Okay enough torture, check out some other stuff I gawked at:

 

Gosh I did a lot of walking and just when I assumed there was nothing left to be seen, I discovered the 'basement' of the market, so down I went...

 

Eventually though it was time to go and after purchasing some cheesy trinkets for back home, I found my way back to the bus stand arriving just in time to catch the last that would take me to my car. 

This picture is a panoramic shot of the trolley from within.  Um, this was taken using my iPhone so I know it looks super disjointed but whatever, I'm not rich enough yet to buy me a lens that would do the same.  Meh.

 



The weather had cooled a bit by the time the trolley had reached its final destination, back at the Space Needle.  The clock read 6:50ish at which point I should have climbed into my lil Sonic to head back to the hotel but as usual nothing in my life happens as I actually plan hence I did not go home.  Instead this is what I did: 

 

 ***Wait before I show the next set of pictures, let me take a moment here to tell you how tiring this blog has been.  Good God it's ridiculously, obnoxiously long and I'm going cross eyed from all the writing and picture hunting.  Sigh, I apologize if you too have suffered significant vision loss due to all this.  I don't have a lotta cashola right now so don't bother sending me any bills from any doctors.  Read on at your own risk.  If you're bored mindless, stop now, this ain't gonna get better.  Moving on...***

 

 

 

Duck tours!!!!!  Yes indeed, a tour on an amphibious truck.  Anyone who knows me can attest to the fact that I absolutely love these goofy tours, I mean hugeeeeee fan.  When I see them puttering by in D.C. I have been known to screech out loud (no matter who I'm with) "ducksssssssssss".  Ahem, wow I am such a dork.  My love for this tour is so deep that I have taken one in San Fran subsequently dragging my buddy with me who was horrified yet couldn't deny it was a blast.  The tours start on land, drive right into the water, motor around for a bit and then back onto land leaving a trail of water behind.  And the quacking, oh my goodness the quacking!

 

The only thing that I didn't like about this particular tour (the only thing) was that since I was alone and also because it was so late in the day, I was the only one (or so I thought) scheduled for the 7:20 departure.  As I sat in the bus/car thing alone feeling super conspicuous, a tour that was ending pulled up absolutely full of laughing folks next to mine and the driver was going through his final farewells to his guests when he spied me and using a microphone, yes because just quietly calling over to me wouldn't have been embarrassing enough, the dude says "hey sweetie, all alone?" :|  What the hell!  His bus occupants started to snicker, giggle and even a few LOL's.  I blushed beet red, shrugged nonchalantly as if I had no interest in being with anyone else anyhow, sank into the busted up leather seat and tried to appear as if I were texting someone, that I too had another human soul in the world who cared for me...a friend.  Damn.  This is that jerk acting like a total spaz:

 

Thank goodness though that about 9 other people joined my tour eventually, everyone was able to have their own row.  The driver was a crazy guy who made us laugh, put on goofy hats with every song he played, demanded that we sing as well as dance along with him and kept us thoroughly entertained.  He was in essence, a riot.  Oh, did I mention the quacking?  See that plastic beak above?  Most of the people with me had bought one and were happily quacking away as we drove through the streets of Seattle.  When people waved at us the quacks became louder, when people abjectly ignored us the quacking reached levels of obnoxious loudness to the point where I was fairly positive someone clear across the country could hear us. 

 

I got some gorgeous pictures from this trip:

 

 

 

Y'all a lil jealous, right? 

 

Anyhow, by the end of that day I felt as if I had done all that was humanly possible to do in the span of a few hours.  I think I closely resembled a bunny hopped up on speed and caffeine zooming around here, there and everywhere but no regrets.  Although my feet were really pissed off at me that was alright also since I must have lost like 4 bazillion calories from all the hoofing about I had done. 

 

Back at the hotel (sigh, I'm ashamed to admit that my GPS threw me for another loop) and after depositing all the crap I had with me, hunger pangs forced me out into the quiet night figuring I'd have a nice dinner somewhere, really treat myself to something that wasn't consumed while standing.  Finding a Thai place I got there just in time for the woman behind the counter to apologetically inform me that the dining room was closed but I could take to go.  Shrugging I ordered, waited outside while flipping through some outdoorsy magazine, collected the food and was back to the hotel within a few minutes.  It was a wee bit frustrating that nothing in Bellevue seemed open past 9:30pm but oh well, so it goes. 

 

The next day I was mentally preparing myself for Vancouver.  Let's see how that turns out, shall we?  Okay I already know but it's a mystery for you, now isn't it? 

 

Bye for now!