Seattle: Aug 18...The Wedding!

Here comes the bride..

 

From the moment my eyes popped open close to 11am, this song was in my head for after all it was indeed wedding day!

 

And of course as I'm sure many married people are want to do, they reflect upon their own weddings.  I did the same as I went through the day taking a leisurely drive around the local area.  Again that day I had no intention of stressing myself out since eventually I would have to go back to the hotel to get ready for the event but even through it all, I thought of a day 17 years that would earmark the beginning of the rest of my life.  Nervous, anxious, excited, almost dreading it, I woke up that morning knowing that nothing would be the same again.    I had been 23, innocent and scared sh*tless.  And after being bedecked in a burgundy sari that boasted heavy gold embroidery, jeweled to within an inch of my life and the veil gently laid over my head, I took those first few steps into my new world.  There are a thousand minute memories that escape me from that day but how I felt I could never forget.

 

I wondered how H was doing as she was getting prepared for a pretty big day of her life.  I pictured her in my head being surrounded by her bridesmaids as she dressed.  I could almost hear the gasps of awe as she finished donning her wedding gown and being praised roundly for her radiant beauty.  Did her hand tremble?  Did her heart beat out of control?  Was she taking long deep breaths?  This bride wasn't the type who enjoyed attention brought onto her but still...a bride is a bride and nerves often got the best of us in such situations.  I hoped that her soft spoken family was there to lend her silent support and encouraging smiles.  I was fairly sure they would be.  These were the images that went through my head, the questions I was pondering as I leaning into my mirror to apply eyeliner, as I slipped into my own dress and grimaced as I put the heels on wondering how deformed my feet would be by the end of the night.  As for Fo, well I didn't have to even think for a moment as to how he was doing because I was fairly positive that he was calm and almost blasé if history was anything to go by.  Basically, my friend was fine, I had no doubt.  He too had his family about so I wasn't in the least concerned.

 

Getting ready for the wedding was actually about the least stressful thing in the world for me.  I had long ago made the decision to wear the same outfit I wore for Eid, thinking black would be appropriate.  And also I didn't have to shove P out of the way for space, although I missed not shoving him out of the way for space.  *sigh* There was one added benefit from this wedding, and other non-desi weddings, which is/was that unlike desi affairs, these were simpler and I knew that wearing even the most un-fussy salwar kameez would be acceptable and smiled upon while in Indian/Pakistani/Bangladeshi knot tying every little detail of the women (not the men) guests were inspected and criticized regardless of whether you were a part of the bridal party or not.  In desi weddings, absolutely everyone was attempting to shine everyone else.  Quite a sight actually.  And there was no fear of outdoing the bride because absolutely no one could possibly be more glamorous than her.  No possible way.  Don't believe me?  Well go off and Google "Indian bride" and you'll know precisely what I mean.  And thanks to the 1001 events that usually leads to the blessed day, people have to plan way ahead in agonizing detail as to precisely what they'll wear and god forbid there should be repeats...bah.  Nothing but stressful.

 

After prissying myself up, I drove to the hotel where the rest of the folks were staying (one that proved to be too pricey for me in the long run since I was camping out in Seattle for much longer than everyone else) so that I could catch a shuttle to the wedding location, a cellar somewhere up a mountain that I had no interest in traversing.

 

The guests on the bus were in good spirits.  I sat next to Fo's lovely mother who was chatting with me about India food and I told her I would happily give her recipes since she loved herself some desi edibles.  She clasped my hand in delight as Fo's brother, who sat on the other side of me, elbowed me playfully and his sisters behind me were commenting on this or that, their words making me giggle.  I realized then how truly comfortable I was with these folks in less than 24 hours. 

 

We arrived at the venue and I was instantly in awe.  Quiet, serene, indeed up in the mountains completely surrounded by thick walls of trees, there was no other sound then the guests commenting about the beauty of nature and yes indeed, the sounds of nature itself.  We were greeted warmly by H's bridesmaids and guided down a rustic stone staircase that led to where the outdoor ceremony would be.  I prayed silently that I didn't take a facer in my strappy black heels.  There were only about 35 chairs set up, in neat rows, a small 4 piece string quartet played classical music (a passion of Fo's) and the alter was so simple yet so appropriate, blending in with the ambiance perfectly.  Made of branches it was a square chuppah-like structure, without the draping, completely open and only adorned with the barest amount of clustered flowers at the corners and a few wine barrels (empty I presumed unless Fo planned to tap a keg, which I doubt H would allow, at least not that that precise moment) placed about the space making everything all that rustic.

 

There was a small debate by his family members as to what side we're supposed to sit but I assured them that it's the right and so we all plunked down armed with refreshments.  Eventually the music slightly changed, we turned and saw the processional, first came the smiling tall white haired female pastor (I think she was, maybe a minister?  I'm not sure...I mean is there a difference?  God I'm so ignorant about these things.), next was a beaming but impressively contained groom escorting his mother.  She was wearing a lovely black and off-white (maybe gold) sheath dress, her son looking handsome in his black suit and white tie with a big grin plastered to his face.  After they took their places came M, Fo's bro looking quite solemn, more so than I had yet to witness him being since having met him a day before.  After that came H's sister/matron-of-honor in a gorgeous beaded champagne color wispy chiffon gown looking shy but beautiful and last but never ever the least came the gorgeous bride in a strapless form-fitting gown with a chiffon overlay and delicate beading.  Her hair had been pulled back into a twisty yet elegant chignon and she clutched in her hands a bouquet off-white flowers (I wish I knew precisely what they were called) with a scattering of roses. Guiding the shy, indeed blushing but glowing bride to the alter was her older brother looking proud, a small smile playing about his lips. 

 

 

You know, I've talked to Fo, even when he was still in D.C. about his wedding, what it would be like.  He'd always been open to eloping and ignoring the whole traditional big wedding thing.  It wasn't because he didn't like the fuss (which he didn't/wouldn't/doesn't) but rather it would be in character to the person he was...so laid back and adverse to targeted attention upon himself that eloping would make more sense.  However, he was/is also the type of person who would not blatantly snatch away the right to this day from the woman he loved and would jump in with equal enthusiasm.  I hate to type this out for him to read but indeed, he is a fairly considerate person (*barf*).  But if I had to imagine him and H in any scenario, drawn in my head a sketch of what would best fit them, it would indeed be precisely what was unfolding before us.  These two had taken their personalities, the very essence of them, and made it come to life in this intimate, small, tasteful elegant wedding. 

 

They were joined under that beautiful arbor, a short ceremony but filled with joy and simplicity.  Did I mention that the ceremony was short?  No honestly, short.  A welcome, the vows, exchanging of rings, smooch, done.  This did not surprise me knowing the couple who themselves were no-fuss sorta folks.  They left to a gale of claps and hoots, leading the way back up the stone stairs to the area that would host the reception. 

 

When I went to give my friend a big hug, congratulating him on finally getting hitched, he grinned down at me and expelled a quick breath.  I could totally understand.  It was so time to party.

 

To describe the reception would take too long, to show u how it looked would be far easier as well as faster, so here is the one and only picture I'm willing to share from that day.  I'm sure you all can understand that out of full respect for my friends, I would never flash their wedding pictures all over the Internet (or at least not in my blog) without their full consent and I don't feel like asking them if it's okay, figuring that it would put them in an awkward position...so here it is, sans any actual pictures of any of the main characters of this story:

 

As you can see, it was simple and beautiful...wait, I lied, here's one more picture below, because it shows precisely how gorg the space looked in the darkness of the night as well...this time you can see shapes but not clearly so I think this should still be okay:

 

Okay so this picture is from a bit far away but if you can see carefully, the sky was radiant with moonlight, literally illuminating the world above and casting a glow on the partiers below.  It was as if we were cradled in darkness.  Does that make sense?  The whole occasion could only best be described as a celebration, indeed a party really.  The food, once again, was amazing and I ate my full, even eyeing the empty space next to me, clearly of a missing guest, wondering if I couldn't ask the server for that persons portion as well.  For all that I had prior to this avoided food, and post this would go back to avoiding it, seemed to diminish for that night, I was starved (even though the appetizers had been yummo as well).  The drinks flowed like...well wine.  Hell it was a vineyard so that would make sense, right?  The folks whom I sat with were friendly and chatty, conversation easy and before long we were all behaving like old friends.  Actually one of the women at the table was in fact someone I knew...I suppose we were 'old friends' in that sense.  

 

After a long leisurely dinner the cake was cut.  I was surprised that they would even hold to this tradition, particularly for this non-traditional couple but it was sweet watching them feed each other.  It was sweeter to watch their guests demanding kisses to be exchanged between them and how adorably demure H was, blushing each and every time.  I was very, very shocked that Fo didn't try to crush H with cake in the face but was relieved that he hadn't because her make-up was flawless and if there was ever a time not to ruin a woman's make-up, it was at her wedding.  There was plenty of chocolate to appease all since Fo was a huge chocoholic plus additional and varied delicate lil pastries for those who didn't like chocolate (seriously, who are these aliens?).  The DJ had started to play outside (the cake had been cut directly off the dining patio) but the floor was yet to be occupied.

 

Soon though that situation was taken care of as Fo's mom and sister went out onto the stone dance floor and began to shake their groove thang, shake their groove thang...yea yea!  (Wow, how lame am I?)  I'm not shy about dancing either, so with a shrug I joined and sooner than later the bride and her friends also shook what their mommas gave them.  I looked around and asked H where her husband was and when were they going to do their first dance.  She said he hadn't wanted one (big shocker) and that she was okay with it, she didn't want all the attention.  Still, I could see that she wanted him at least out on the floor so in my normally bossy way I stomped inside, excused him from those he was chatting amicably with and demanded that he come dance.  Honestly Fo had no choice as I literally dragged him out.

 

Now, Fo, my newlywed buddy, is a wonderful mix of black and white and one would think that at least the black half gave him some rhythm...yes I understand this is a terribly 'stereotypical' if not downright 'racist' thing of me to say but seriously, his mother and sister were kick ass dancers...one would assume...

 

Here's a flash from the past, picture this:  2007 Christmas office party...huge glittery event at the Ritz Carlton in D.C...everyone having a lot of fun.  Suddenly a colleague of mine ("M"), also Fo's secretary, comes up to me, grabs my arm and hauls me away towards the dance floor.  I protest, telling her I'm waiting for P to come back.  She says "girl you got to see this."  Curious I followed and then stopped, staring with my mouth dropped open.  I turn to M and say in confusion, "what is he doing?" eyeing Fo who was doing something that I couldn't identify for sure but assumed it was 'dancing'.  After all there was music, a dance floor and he was moving faster than his normal snails pace and he was flailing his arms.  Um...right so it had to be dancing, right?

 

She also has a look of disbelief upon her face as she shakes her head, "that man does not know how to dance, that's what he's doing.  How the hell can a black man not know how to dance?" 

 

That has been a question I've asked him through the years of our acquaintance.  He assures me that I'm simply jealous of his skills, nothing more, and that I wished I was half as good as he.  I equally reassured him that I was thankful to the Almighty that in fact I was in fact not 'half as good as he' and not in a good way either.

 

But no doubt watching him dance had me laughing through most of the rest of the evening and better yet, his brother M and him dancing together was downright side-splitting hilarious.  Every few minutes they would get these serious expressions on their faces, step out with one leg, stretch out one hand, point, look at each other, bop their heads and do this for a few minutes with grim, almost scowling expressions on their thobras (that means face in Hindi).  I don't think I have ever laughed so much, danced so little at any wedding.  I danced less only because I couldn't stop laughing.  Vicious circle really. 

 

Also, M's fav thing seemed to be twerking.  Yes, I said twerking.  Don't know what it is?  Go, go to www.youtube.com and behold.  You'll either liable to gape, blush or laugh, possibly all three.  Any which way here was this 20something man twerking and honestly one can't help but stare in astonishment. And Fo also joined in as did his sister (she actually looked good doing it unlike the brothers who just looked...disturbing).  Best. Dancing. Ever.

 

I was also at one point attacked.  Sweet little me, standing there right off the floor minding my own business, and I was fully attacked.  You're wondering by whom?  Well Fo and M.  How?  They both decided they wanted to perform a scene from that American classic movie "Night at the Roxbury".  I stood there ramrod straight, arms crossed, allowing them to do what they wanted while rolling my eyes at the other laughing dancers.  The end product, other than blog-worthy material, was that one far too enthusiastic bump lead to a bottle of Fo's beer that was perched on the table behind me, tipped over and onto my lovely dress.  Besides brushing it off, I threatened to kick both their butts, then laughed.  What else could I do?  What would you have done?  That's just how chilled the atmosphere was.  Almost all of the guests were up and dancing, drinking, laughing so getting pissed over spilt beer seemed trivial.  H eventually got her dance as we all made a circle about them smiling and cheering them on.

 

Nearing onto 11:30pm, it was time to go, the shuttle awaited.  Rounds of hugs were exchanged, air kisses flew around the intimate perimeter and we were off in an exhausted heap.   I sat again next to Fo's mother as we agreed that everything was perfect, promising to stay in touch once we were back home.  By the time I got back to my hotel, my feet only slightly hurt, the memories of the evening secured in my little bloggers mind and undressing as well as getting into bed seemed well deserved. 

 

Here are my final thoughts:  To be honest, all that planning, packing, traveling, everything that went into going to Seattle for just that specific day was worth it completely.  To see two dear friends, one whom I considered a bestie, become husband and wife was priceless.  I couldn't have been more honored nor flattered to be invited to witness the blessed event knowing without a doubt that these two are truly meant for one another.  If you were ever to see them together, to know them, you would fully agree.  They complement each other in a bizarre way, they are weirdly in sync and completely in love but so comfortable in that love that they did/do not find the need to continuously cling to each other.  She is non-demanding, he is chilled.  She accepts all his insane childishness; he appreciates and recognizes this ability in her.  They are so opposite yet alike in so many ways.   They are the perfect (have I used this word before?) foil for one another.

 

I know Fo will read all this (particularly since I told him that this blog will feature him prominently) and I sincerely hope I did justice to his and his beautiful wife’s special day in my descriptions.  If I missed or got something wrong, pardon me for it, it has been several weeks since the event and I'm old so my memory isn't want it used to be (that's my story and I'm sticking to it).

 

For my readers who do not know this couple you are probably wondering why I took one whole long blog to write all this out about strangers (to you) and then subjected you to the reading of it.  Well...this is how I look at it...life is about big events, interspersed between a lot of boring humdrumness (yes, this is now a word in my dictionary).  By not writing about just these precise 'big events' then what else is there to speak of?  Cleaning the house?  Cooking?  Taking out the garbage?  Going to work?  The weather?  Another story about another bum who accosted me on the streets of D.C.?  Well yea, sure I write about all these things as well (something you are witness to in all my previous blogs) but this is the type of blog I most adore typing out not for you (my reader) but (selfishly enough) for myself.  Because I figure that in several years, when this is nothing but a distant memory, slightly blurred and faded around the edges of my cranium, I'll be able to click back on this very link and re-read it and in a way re-live it.  I hope that Fo and H will also know that this blog dedicated to them is also a way for them, through someone else’s eyes, to re-live their day. 

 

Additionally, I have other dear close friends who have become hitched most recently.  Do not for an instant think that I have forgotten to write their days down and that Fo is more special than the others.  He is indeed special ('thpethal') but so are these other friends and I have every intention of writing at length regarding their weddings (from my prospective).   Watch out for those entries once I'm done narrating this Seattle adventure.

 

If you haven't been able to figure it out yet, my friends are special and dear to me.  I love them endlessly and deeply.  This is how they know what they mean to me, the only real gift I can give them, my blog.  Sue me if you don't like it and think that I should reserve my blog for other things, I've never been shy about writing what I think, no matter how negative or rude it may sound and I never demure from writing about those things/peopel that I care about.  That's just how I am. 

Still, I just hope you all have enjoyed reading this, even if a slight bit.  And that you also wish this couple happiness, they deserve it.

Anyhow, the next day, Vancouver bound!

Seattle Adventures: Aug 17

Saturday morning seemed to come too fast or maybe it was just me.  I groaned in frustration, peered at the clock and realized that 'morning' was quickly retreating to allow noon to declare itself.  I closed my eyes and contemplated sleeping more but my family in the east wasn't having any of that.  After fielding several calls I dragged myself up and wondered what I would do as I showered and lazily went through the process of getting read to do...nothing.  I knew that once the wedding was done with, I had practically every day planned therefore having no agenda was liberating. 

I thought, why not go explore that heart-stopping-ly expensive mall again where I was positive I would buy nada anyhow so there was no danger.  The thing about me is once I know the lay of the land, it's all a piece of cake to maneuver about.  Bellevue, where I was staying, was no different as I effortlessly guided my car to the parking garage, found a spot and gathered my belongings. 

Wandering about with headsets firmly in ears, stomach grumbled basically demanding attention I realized with a start that I hadn't eaten since the abbreviated (and unhealthy) meal from early the afternoon before  It was time to appease the hunger pangs finally stumbling onto Red Robin (sings *yum*).  I had no idea that this burger joint was so popular in this area of the country and once sidling up to the bar to order a drink and perusing the menu my phone rang.  It was the groom-to-be, the reason yours truly had traveled 2500+ miles from home. 

Fo:  Hey, where you at?
Me:  Red Robin having lunch.
Fo:  I'm coming!

There was more to the conversation of course but you get the gist.  Within 20 minutes he came pushing through the revolving door, looked around, spotted me and came with his normal goofy Fo smile.  I know that he reads my blogs, most of the time, so he'll see this and probably do a little bit of gloating over what I'm about to say.  That's fine, I'll just ignore it as I usually do.

My prior blog, the one that was super secret and guarded like a national treasure by me, had first introduced Fo when we had taken our month long business trip to Hong Kong.  Since hardly any of you have seen that blog, I'll fill you in on who this joker truly is (and I of course say this with a lot of affection).  Back then, well before moving to this part of North America, he had been residing not far from my own home, working a few scant offices away on the same floor as well, in fact we were in the same group.  When I had first been introduced to him, or rather he happened to be schlepping past my office and the colleague who I was with pointed him out,  Fo sort of waved, a wide arching thing that set his whole right arm swinging while he aimed a vapid smile in my direction.  The colleague told me with a short laugh that the very gentleman who seemed to work backwards in time (that's how slow he was moving) would be the one to train me on a certain database, I gasped in horror.  My first thought was that this guy seemed a little brain dead, how the hell was he going to be training me on anything, ever?

The meeting and subsequent training with Fo was indeed a bit disastrous with me leaving as clueless as I had walked in.  But the general assumption that this guy was anything other than brilliant was soon wiped out of existence during a planning meeting for HK.  The partner was struggling to remember a few simple facts about the case we were working on so he turned to Fo and asked him for a recap.  And boy did the kid do just that.  It was like turning on a faucet as the information literally gushed out of him in torrents, succinct, precise, with machine-like precision.  After he was done, he leaned back in his chair, placed the back of the pen he grasped to his lips and went back to being vapid.  Since then, I have never ever underestimated him. 

And since HK, or possibly during it, we had become close friends, confiding and asking each others opinions regarding almost anything.  The fact that he was an associate at the firm and deemed me 'worthy' of his friendship (yes, I'm even rolling my eyes at that sentence) made him all that more human, all that more likable.  Clearly job hierarchy didn't matter a flip to him.  He is chilled to the point where one isn't sure if he has a pulse, sometimes cool most of the time lame and geeky, goofy as hell, laughs without reserve, is a total and utter smartass, has caused me moments in which I contemplated choking the very life out of him...slowly...and has protected me when I most needed it, always taking my side and giving me the respect of listening to me even though I was nothing but a 'paralegal'.  He is also generous and not so cynical about life that he wasn't open to not only receiving love, but giving it.  Now, 6 years after that first meeting, we are close enough that I would even consider traveling so far to witness him marry the woman who is literally the perfect foil to him.  And when he told me he was moving away, I was devastated and to this day try hard to convince him to move back (fat chance).

Okay enough and moving on...

So he walks in and the first thing I observe is that he had shed a good amount of weight, looked happy and calm, this last thing was not in the least surprising.  Aside from two specific occasions in the past both connected to work, I've never seen him lose his shiznit nor seem even the least perturbed about things.  If I had thought that some of the stress from the wedding planning was going to crack his normal cool, I was vastly mistaken.  Thank goodness I have no such misconceptions.

He came, gave me a bear hug and as I went to pull away, he held on a bit longer and I thought to myself "awww, how sweet, he misses me!"  Then I slightly turned my head to the right and saw that he was actually trying to grab some of the food I had sitting on the bar counter behind me.  Typical Fo.  Most of the time the git was hovering by my food waiting for me to declare that I was done so that he could swoop down and finish it up.  This time he was a little disappointed since I was eating a salad.  He told me as much too. 

That was our first opportunity to really catch up as he filled me in on what was happening,  ordered then subsequently inhaled/devoured an order of fries and within an hour was off to go visit his family who were comfortably situated close by.  After reminding me about the rehearsal dinner that night, he was gone and I was left to more wandering around as I chatted with my mom on the phone. 

Sure enough I didn't buy a darn thing...wait that's a lie.  I bought a pair of linen pants from Macy's...because as you all know there are no Macy's stores in...no, never mind, there are..but when I went to pay for the 20 dollar pants I realized the sales tax was something like 9.5% or some equally atrocious number.  The memories of living in L.A. came flooding back and after that I decided anything that I had to purchased (other than food) would have to be under duress.

Returning back to the hotel, I snuggled into the blissfully comfy bed with the AC blasting and watched TV till I nodded off.  Afternoon naps are not only a luxury for me but a total oddity as well.  Even when given the opportunity I never usually take it fully because my mind never rests most unfortunately.  Waking an hour later, thanks to P being my own personal alarm clock, I quickly showered, dressed, pulled up the address and had a convo with Fo who told me he and H, his lovely bride-to-be, were already at the venue.  I assured him I would be there before 7pm.

The dinner was to be held at Cutters Crab House at Pike Place.  Thanks to the location I was able to at least take a pre-tourist trip to the area before coming back in a few days to give it a real visit.  I wandered through the market but it was already 6:45 the vendors were either packing up or had long since put the goodies away.  Empty wood stalls lined the length of the market, the smell of fish perfumed the air, the sunlight streaming in through the slightly dirty panes of glass that lined only one side of the market.  The park in front of the restaurant offered a beautiful view of the water while various types of people were lounging around enjoying the warm bright weather.  You wonder what I mean when I say 'types of people'?  Well it was after all Seattle which meant there were hippies, potheads, poets, artists, tourists, desi's, non-desi's, geeks, yuppies, rich and poor all mingling together.  This created quite a tapestry of humanity as I reached my destination, sat and waited for Fo to come get me.  Here are pictures taken via my iPhone including the yummy food: 

Fo soon arrived and lead me into the restaurant, through winding busy dining rooms crammed with happily feasting folks and into a private room in the back where a few people were standing in polite conversation.  I immediately approached H, giving her a fierce hug asking her how tired she was.  "Very," she responded but glowed nonetheless, "I can't wait for all this to be over," she confessed with a laugh. 

I didn't really think about how I would feel being alone at the wedding as I went through the process of preparing and arriving at Seattle but for a second as I stood in that room looking about, standing there awkwardly, I realized just how 'single' I was at that moment.  And in an instant I finally understood, as well as sympathized, with all those friends of mine who bitched about having to go stag. Definitely.not.fun.  Another reason I had probably not given it much thought was because up to a week prior to the wedding a mutual friend of Fo and mine, Vee, was going to attend but due to babysitter issues the poor thing couldn't make it.  So when Fo's mother came with a gigantic warm smile and a welcoming hug, I was more than thrilled to return both with equal affection.  Breathing a sigh of relief I was pulled into the warmth of the moment as I became reacquainted with one of Fo's sister who I had long ago met in DC, next introduced to another younger sister who I gaped at because she was just that beautiful, and his younger brother, a man the spitting image of Fo in so many ways.  I also met Fo's brother-in-law who was quick to smile, laughed easily with a chuckle that demanded response (one just couldn't help but laugh along with him),  and who also welcomed me heartily.  He also, I came to realize quickly, had the same sense of humor to compliment the rest of his in-laws. 

Now I mentioned earlier that this was supposed to be a rehearsal dinner of sorts.  For those who do not know what this is precisely, basically it's a pre-wedding dress rehearsal followed by an intimate dinner of only the bridal parties.  Outsiders are not usually invited, most certainly not all their guests.  The fact is this non-pretensious couple had elected not to have any such event and instead used it as an excuse to welcome their out-of-town wedding guests to Seattle by treating them to a scrumptuous dinner.  At one point Fo whispered to me that the amazing accomodations and generosity was thanks to his mother.  I knew I liked that woman.  (In recent memory, the only other occasion where this happened was at my girl Vee's wedding where she and her hubby threw a big party for everyone as their 'rehearsal dinner')  We desi's don't have any such thing, we figure that the day of the wedding it's either sink or swim and that someone would pipe up and tell others what needs to be done.  That's how we brownies roll.

As dinner, which was exquisite, was being served, Fo plopped down next to me (I sort of weaseled my way into the same table where his family was seated since I didn't know a blessed other soul amongst the other 25) while his fiancee sat across the room with her family.  I leaned over and asked him whether it wouldn't be more appropriate for him to actually sit with his future wife but he furrowed his brow, mouth dropping slightly open as he often did and seemed to ponder this for a second.  Then he lifted his glass, caught the eye of his woman, lifted it in salute (as did she) and grinned widely.  "No, we're good," he assured me.  And so they were.  Seriously guys, how awesome are these two?

The evening was full of laughter, jokes and ribald humor.  Fo's mom took all the colorful teasing with gracious good humor and aplomb, I couldn't help but admire her.  She told me that when her kids got out of control, she switched her brain to the 'off' position and conveniently lost the ability to hear.  Hehe...so love this woman.

Fed, satiated and happy eventually it was time to go.  Fo suggested that everyone may get together later for drinks at a bar not far from my hotel, telling me he'd let me know where and when precisely.  I left with a cheery wave, headed back to the car, getting only lost once in the process of going 'home' and was able to shed the clothes and slip into something way more comfortable with a soft sigh.  Soon I received a text informing me where the gathering would be and I left, the hour being close to 11:30pm.

Seemed like nearly everyone from the dinner was present.  It was a pleasant extension to an already pretty nice evening as we sat outside enjoying the mild warm weather, the wind blowing reprieve every few minutes and soft laughter whispering through the large outer patio/sitting area/courtyard.  Eventually tired partiers dropped out one at a time until it was only myself, Fo, H (his still smiling fiancee) and her best friend left.  Another half hour, closing in on 2 am we all finally took our leave of the establishment.  I had to remind the couple that they had a pretty big day ahead of them and surely beauty sleep was a necessity. 

Sleepily I drove back to the hotel, let myself in and plopped down onto the bed.  Checking messages, responding to a few, leaving the rest for the next day I stretched out diagonally in the huge king size bed that was all mine for a few days.  Then, because I am indeed a creature of habit, I straightened and fell asleep immediately. 

The next day, indeed a Sunday, was the wedding.  It promised to be beautiful and fun.  I was anticipating it with glee, if nothing the food would be amazing and there would be chocolate, since Fo loved himself some chocolate.  Yayy!

Broken Promises and Adventures: Aug 15 to Aug 16 - Seattle

Indeed, I have broken a few promises to my followers (if there are any left at all).  Having been severely neglectful of my blogging responsibilities, a great deal of shame engulfs me.  Particularly when after Ramadan I waxed on about how things would be better, how I would persevere in updating my blaberring on endlessly with some semblance of regularity and yada yada.  However the proof is most certainly in the written pudding.  I have slacked, slacked badly with little to excuse myself. 

So I will not try.  Seems futile anyhow.  I doubt by now any of you would take my word for even a grain of salt. 

Okay so now that I've addressed the 'broken promises' part of the title, let's go on with the adventures.  And oh yes I've had a few in the last few days (now weeks). 

The blog just prior to this one seemed pretty optimistic by that title, didn't it?  Day 1.  As if day 2, 3, etc. would follow quick upon it's heels but alas another broken promise, even if not declared outright.  But it was certainly an assumed.  If any of you had been checking back periodically to see what the rest of the days would hold, you would once again be disappointed.  Seems like the norm around these parts of late.  Hopefully though anyone who has traveled alone can at least somewhat identify as to why I couldn't, didn't sit down in front of my computer and bang out blog after blog.

 

I was all over the place as you will come to realize as you read.

The rest of this blog and a few to come will be my effort to retell all that happened during my first (and hopefully not last) visit to the great northwest...Seattle.  You will notice that P's name is hardly mentioned.  That is because he was unable to make it due to work obligations. 

So here goes nothing...

August 15:

The day I arrived in Seattle, I stepped out to a fine misty rain.  Nothing about this surprised me since I had been warned forwards and backwards about the usually damp climate so I took this as the norm and powered off to get my rental car, which ended up being this goofy lil thing called a Sonic.  (Me to the rental agent:  Back at home, a Sonic is either a hedgehog or a fast food place.  Rental agent to me:  I know, right?!) I had to ask the young lady what the hell a Sonic was and she just looked at me deadpan and said 'girl it'll get you from point A to point B'.  She was right but I wistfully thought of my baby at home with her power and awesomeness.  I had to remind myself over and over again that not all cars could be as kick-ass as my Stella.  The Sonic ended up being a little black thing that my Audi could probably have eaten for an afternoon snack but still it actually gave great gas mileage (precisely what I needed considering how much I would in fact be driving) and indeed it took me where I needed to go.  Check it out:

But the friendship between me and this car didn't start immediately. I recall once inside of it for the first time glared around almost resentful, then sighed in resignation and was soon on my way through the rain to the hotel, an agonizing 20 minute drive way.  Why was it agonizing?  Because I was in an unknown car, in an unknown city, in rain, with a GPS which hated me. 

The hotel itself was clean and the room was comfortable, nothing fancy nor luxurious but safe and secure.  I checked in, unpacked then headed out to get some lunch, deciding to also pick up some staples for my stay.  Discovering that Downtown Bellevue had a lot to offer including a super pricy fancy mall which boasted such stores as Gucci, Armani, Teslar (is that how you spell it?) and other such retailers which gave me heart palpitations, I wandered a bit but felt as if my legs were protesting and my body was unhappy with me.  Both were demanding rest, including my eyes which were tired of staying open.  After a fish and chips lunch which I barely finished and most certainly didn't linger over at a pub called Paddy Coyne, I stopped at the grocery store (Whole Foods), bought a dozen bottles of water, some jalapeno cheese cubes and whole wheat crackers, a whole host of fruits and a bottle of fizzy tangerine water, oh yes, and a few yummy chocolaty tarts.  By the time I got back to the room, I was tired enough to be able to take off my boots, make a few calls and fall asleep by 11pm, looking forward to the next day.
 

August 16: 

 

Waking up surprisingly refreshed, excitement coursed through my geeked out being.  Today was Forks!  For those who have no idea what Forks is then let me give you the 411.  It's the town in which the book Twilight was set.  Yes, I admit I am a Twilighter.  There is no shame whatsoever in me to admit this out loud.  I am perfectly okay with it and if you don't like it or are presently harshly judging me, that's fine, not much I can do about this fact anyhow.  And because of this hereto aforementioned designated title, there was no way I would have missed out on the visit.  So armed with directions to the Chambers of Commerce off I went with a few bottles of water, dried mango slices and no coffee.  Yes, that's hard to believe, right?  I had been in Seattle for less than 24 hours and had yet to stop to taste java.  But my mind was occupied with Edward, Jacob and Bella hence I barely noticed my body clamoring for the rejuvenating nectar of life (which I have called it before if you can't remember).

 

Prior to making the decision to go and partake in the place where the specter of these three characters resided, I had found out that Forks was approximately 146 miles one way.  That translates to 3 hours and 45 minutes without breaks.  I admit I mentally paused at this idea. 4 and a half hours with stops...yikes.  But I managed to convince myself that it would be fine since the drive through the Olympic Mountains probably would be breathtaking (I was not incorrect there).  Off I went.  And where things could go wrong that a.m., they went wrong.

 

First, my dratted hand held GPS decided that it hated me (still) and refused to give me directions that made any sense.  I quickly downloaded another direction app (MapQuest) thinking surely that would work better.  I was severely wrong.  Lastly, I pulled out the GPS that I had brought with me from home, plugged it in and prayed.  Now the reason I hadn't started with using that was simply because although it was working just fine, I couldn't hear the audio.  At least the day before it wasn't working from the airport to the hotel.  What a mess.  Normally back in my own place I don't need to use audio but seeing as how I was floundering around in unfamiliar territory, the vocal warnings for turns seemed important. Unfortunately due to the cluster-F the car one had been the day before, I was leery of using it the next day during such a long drive.  However after about an hour of chasin' my own  proverbial tail around, I had enough and pulled it out. 

 

Meantime I stumbled upon a Starbucks, scored me some java and muttered a thanks to the Almighty for at least making it a beautiful bright sunny day in which I was systematically getting lost in.  Subsequently P called asking me where I was/what was I doing and I reiterated to him about the problems I had encountered.  I nearly wailed into the phone about how the audio wasn't working on the GPS when my eyes spied a speaker icon with an slash through it.  Yes, it was on mute.  Feeling sheepish and silly I unmuted it only to have the car interior flooded by a familiar low husky voice (no not P's, the GPS woman).  Finally, nearly an hour after having departed from the hotel, I was on my way.  And about another 45 minutes later, as I gaped at the scenery all around me, my GPS informed me (yes, informed me, out loud...yay) that a ferry crossing was approaching.  I did a mental 'huh?'.  Me, being from the east, had never had much reason to use ferries.  Apparently in that area it was common, that area of course being Seattle and it's surroundings.  Had I thought about it, it would have made sense, seeing as how there was water everywhere one looked but no one can ever accuse me of being insightful.  I was stumped, having no idea what I was supposed to do, wondering how one drove onto a ferry without tipping the damn boat over.  Questions flew through my head as I drove to where the cars were about 20 deep waiting patiently. 

 

A very friendly albeit gangly gentleman came strolling over, motioning me to lower my window, realizing belatedly that it was already lowered.  He flashed me a friendly grin and nicely informed me in an almost lazy drawl that I had to do a U-turn and head to the 'ferry staging area'.  Apologizing for being such a dunce, I smiled and indeed turned around not sure where this staging area was although he had told me.  Honestly, I'm great at directions but this trip to Seattle, or at least the initial day, had me questioning my own abilities.  Turns out that there was construction which made finding this staging spot a lot more difficult proving that in fact I wasn't the biggest nincompoop around. 

 

However, my very eastern mind had assumed the crossing would be quick.  Oh boy, I was super wrong.  Once in the staging area, I craned my neck and saw that it was at least 150ish cars long.  :|  Yes, I was horrified, then resigned.  Turning off the engine I sat there listening to music and reading a book until it was time to move forward.  By the time I reached the spot I had started at, I was the 15th car back and had about another 40 minute wait.  Again I was resigned but not in the least stressed since no one was with me to bitch and moan about the wait.  Besides, it wasn't as if I was trying to get somewhere at a certain time.  It felt to me, for the first time in such a long time, that I had all the time in the world.  It was a nice feeling.

 

I also quickly discovered that people would get out of their cars, walk around, get coffee or food, use the facilities or just stand and stretch their legs as they waited for the next boat to approach.  I followed lead and used this as an opportunity to snap some photos  Here are some pics of the ferry as well as the actual crossing:

 

 

 

I bet you didn't expect this blog to be a pictorial, right?  Yes, well a good friend of mine suggested it and I thought, why the hell not?  I mean I have a lot of making up to do for my past transgressions so at least I can do this much.

 

Anyhooo...come to find out that I had no reason to wonder over how to get onto the ferry and all that, the attendants were efficient and friendly.  There was also no threat at all of my one puny Sonic tipping the launch over since it thing housed about 300 cars.  The crossing took 20 minutes, the debarking about another 20 and soon I was off towards Port Angeles, the half way mark between where I was and where I wanted to be. 

 

The drive was as splendid as I had imagined.  So much so that I was almost (and I mean almost) loath to reach Forks.  I was also a bit tremble-y with excitement at the prospect of seeing Port Angeles since this small port city (city being a very lose designation) was also featured in the book.  I thought I would stop, look around and then drive on but thanks to all the delays from earlier I figured that I needed to keep going since the rest of the drive was pretty much through mountainous areas and I wanted to make it back before darkness started to descend.  By no stretch of the imagination am I chicken, however the idea of driving through winding mountain roads in the dark of night alone with little to hardly any cell phone bars, was not all that appetizing an idea.

 

But here are some of the sites I did see (you will agree, breathtaking):

 

 

 

 

 

Literally every single bend that I took offered a feast for the senses, which is why it took me longer than it should have to get to Forks.  I entered the small town by 2ish I believe, it's hard to remember so many weeks later, but I had to stop to snap this pic also: 

 

I was there, really and truly there!  I couldn't believe it as I feverishly texted my Twilight bestie F and told her where I was.  She whooped in response as I drove into the town...and then about a mile later, I drove right back out. 

 

:|

 

What the...I pulled over in shock.  The blasted town was only a mile long.  I was stunned.  Well hell, who knew.  It seemed a lot larger in the movie, or so I thought.  Tired of all the misdirection's, I did a quick U-turn (hoping it would be one of the last) I came to the Chambers of Commerce, parked, walked in and announced to the lady at the counter without batting an eyelash or blushing, "Hi, I'm a Twilighter".  Unlike anywhere else in the world, she did not scoff, mock nor fall over laughing in gales of laughter.  Neither, may I mention, did she gape, snicker, titter nor jeer.  She instead nodded pleasantly as well as knowingly, chirped a "well welcome to Forks" in a funny almost Wisconesque like accent and handed me a map.  Attached are a few highlights:

 

This is Dreamy Dr. Cullen's lab coat *sigh*

 

The map of forks that I had with me



 From left to right:  Alice, Edward, Bella and Jacob

The two cars that were Bella's, one used in the movie, one in the book. 

 

There are more pictures of Forks but I'll spare you non-Twilighter's the agony.  Oh and on the very, very, if-you-blink-you'll-surely-miss-it, short drive through town, I had been able to note how desolate the town seemed so I decided to ask about this.  I casually commented to the bubbly woman helping me that it didn't appear as if the area had actually benefited from the Twilight phenomenon.  Her face fell a slight bit as she nodded sadly and said 'unfortunately that's true, after the initial hype, it basically died down other than die hard Twilighters like yourself.'  That was when I cringed.  I also bought a t-shirt that says "Forkes Bites" hoping I had somewhat did my part.

 

Armed with the map, I took a few more pictures, climbed into my hot car and headed for Bella's house.  The desolation of the place actually got worse as I approached her street and it overwhelmed me totally by the time, less than 45 minutes later I left town headed for La Push Beach which was/is located within the Quileute Reservation.  The beach was where...nvm, that's too much info about the book.  Suffice it to say, there wasn't much going on in Forks, I took the pictures I needed and was bizarrely happy to get away from the sad little town. 

 

La Push was a 30 minute drive through more winding roads, although not terribly mountainous.  I was still quite riveted and as I drove to 1st Beach, my eyes rounded with astonishment.  Speechless I parked, grabbed my camera and walked down to the beach.  There were people there, a handful at most, but otherwise deserted.  The beach was in the form of a crescent moon and quiet, so very quiet.  I could hear my own breathing being swept away by the gentle breeze, heard the waves break into the shore and closed my eyes for a moments, just standing there.  At that moment, Twilight was lost to me.  I was much more aware of this beautiful piece of Mother Earths handiwork. 

 

I walked a lot, from one end of the moon to the other, stopping, taking pictures, sitting, pondering, sighing a lot.  If you were to ask me if I had thought of something specific, I can not answer that but if there was a place where brilliance could be realized it would have happened there or if one was a hidden poet at heart, then I assure you the discovery and subsequent writing of whatever masterpiece would have happened then.  It was there in the warm breeze and in the salt of the air.  Alas, I did none of that, preferring to sit and watch a few children play in the water, screeching and screaming in delight, observing and capturing surfers through my lens who were much further out waiting endlessly for the perfect wave.  I saw a few couples walk by hand in hand, goofily smiling, stopping to kiss while holding onto shoes.  Gulls cawed overhead while dogs woofed in the distance as they romped in the sand.

 

Here are a few of the things I captured through my camera:

 

I admit there was a momentary sense of loneliness since P wasn't with me, or anyone else who I could share the vista with but that lapsed as I eyed the sun and knew it was time to go.  My feet reluctantly dragged my body back to the car and with one more glance at the water, I shook loads of sand out of my sneaks and was off. 

 

By the time I was truly on the road, it was nearing sunset, here are some more pics of what I saw: 

 

Here's a sign you don't see often in DC :|  Thank God

 



 

Oh, this is Jacob's bike *dreamy sigh*

 

 

On I went, winding through the mountain, the sun sinking lower and lower, the shadows growing longer and longer and yet still I stopped over and over again to take pictures, I couldn't resist and I'm sure you wouldn't have been able to either, just see for yourself:

 

And as I neared Port Angeles, I stopped and took one or two more:

 

Eventually I knew it was time to head for the ferry that would take me back.  I had been told that the last ferry left at 12:30am, and I had no intention of missing it so I said bye bye to Port Angeles without really looking around much.  The drive through the dark was peaceful as I listened to old Hindi movie songs (singing along naturally), the windows open, only stopping to get gas and thinking wistfully what a pleasant day it had been.  I was wonderfully exhausted and I admit I was looking forward to getting back to the hotel no matter how terrific the experience.

 

You will note I made no mention of stopping to eat, correct?  I actually picked up something from Jack in the Box, a fast food joint that has zero presence in the east coast (which I adored when I lived in L.A...btw, it wasn't as good as I remembered it being) for lunch on my way to Forks and dinner was nothing.  Eating wasn't the most important thing on my mind, a common reoccurrence through the rest of my trip you will see as I continue my narration.  I can tell you this much, trail mix became my best friend.

 

Back at the hotel, closing in on 11pm, I kicked off my tennies, changed and slipped into bed with a grateful groan.  The next day was Saturday and I had every intention of taking it easy, getting up late in an effort to recover from all the driving I had done that day and generally being super lazy.  I can tell you this much though, even as I write all this down, I do not begrudge any of the incidents that had happened during those first few hours of my trip to Forks, not when the memories from the rest of the day are so blessedly dear to me. 

 

And I also can tell you, or rather admit, that I've watched Twilight again since returning home, not because I'm so terribly in love with the movie(s), but because all those roads, mountains, structures now have a different meaning.  I can tell myself (and have), "you were there!"

 

Okay, so there we go, one longgggggg update but at least I published (finally).  I sincerely hope you enjoyed reading this.  Look out for the rest of the trip blogs : )

 

Ciao!