04.20.2002 - 4:48 p.m.
Today is so lovely and fresh and green I want to roll around
on the ground, kicking up my heels and whinnying. The air smells
clean and crisp, birds are twittering away like extras from a
Disney film, trees are tufted with sweet white blossoms, the
mountains are sparkling. Ah, a beautiful spring day in Seattle
- you can't beat it.
JB and I moseyed around
downtown this morning. We walked from our apartment to the monorail
and rode that to Westlake Center. This time we sat in the very
front, next to the monorail driver. I highly recommend you try
this out, should you have the chance. Not only do you get more
of a floaty sensation because of the windows in front of you,
but you can also pepper the driver with a bunch of questions,
which is what JB did.
How fast can the monorail
go? Apparently it tops out at about 45 MPH. Does the driver sometimes
accidentally shut the doors on people? Yes, because as she explained,
the sunlight makes it hard to see the front mirrors, so every
now and then she can't see someone in the doorway.
"It's no big deal,
though. The doors just bounce right back open," she said.
After a long pause, "I mean, it's not like they cut
people in half, or anything."
figure they DID, but good to have the clarification.
So from the Westlake mall
we just rambled around a bit. We passed the Angry Shouting Man,
who is always, always, rain or shine, day in and day out, stationed
across from Nordstrom's shouting the same incoherent thing at
people driving by. He holds up a cardboard sign that has a lot
of writing on it - the only thing I have ever caught is "Seattle
police" and "Communists". I can't figure out what
he's yelling, but it has the same rhythm: Blah BLAH! Blah BLAH
You have to admire this
guy. I can't even imagine what sort of opinion I might form about
anything that I would care to yell about it to other people.
I mean, yes, the guy obviously has like 29849513 bats in his
belfry, but he is dedicated.
Well, maybe I could get
out there and yell about the process of buying a home, since
that's been preying on me lately. "Why does everything have
to be so HARD?" I would scream, holding up a Form 17 and
an inspection report 45 pages long. "Blah BLAH BLAH BLAH!!"
I made JB go with me to
the Shop of Innumerable Smells, where I buy my stanky candles.
After smelling a hundred different varieties like "Tangerine
Lavender" and "Pound Cake", he got all sneezy
and starting pawing at his nose like a cat who has had scotch
tape stuck to her head (not that I have ever observed that and/or
contributed to such a cruel cruel thing). It IS a little overwhelming
after a while, especially when you take a big whiff of something
awful like "Cilantro Coffee" or whatever.
When we headed back to
Westlake, we noticed that there was a huge gathering of people
in the park across the street. Everyone had signs, people were
chanting stuff, and there were a billion cops standing around.
So, we cleverly deduced that they were protestors, but it was
really difficult to figure out what the message was. Some people
had signs saying "Your taxes are killing innocent civilians!"
and then some OTHER people had signs saying "Free health
The really weird thing
was that there was this giant inflatable missile in the midst
of the crowd, just sort of bobbing around. If it was meant to
represent antiwar sentiment, it really didn't work. I mean, it
looked so goofy and benign, like a Macy's balloon that had wandered
away from its parade.
And where the hell do you
get something like that, anyway? When JB and I were driving around
the Eastside last weekend looking for furniture stores, we saw
a huge inflatable gorilla in front of a piano store, advertising
a sale on pianos. Wha? Aside from the opaque link between a giant
ape balloon and a piano sale, what company makes these things?
Can you order inflatable anything? Sea slug? Pork chop?
Giant hand giving the finger?
Then we came back home,
and JB left to drive south to Mt. St. Helens, which he and some
friends are going to try and summit tomorrow. In honor of the
mounds of discomfort he will probably experience in the next
day and a half, I plan to spend a very slutty evening making
Thai tofu curry, drinking what claims to be a "delicious
and stylish young red wine", and burning stinky candles.
Also there may be multiple
4/17/02 - I'm
all wound up like Denis Leary.
04.14.2002 - So
a futile morning spent looking for a Sofa That Doesn't Suck,
an object seeming more and more elusive, much like the Perfect
Pair of Jeans and the Non UniBoob Sports Bra.
04.13.2002 - No
quarters? No fucking problemo.
comments so far.
I have moved. - 1.03.2005
Obviously, a work in progress. - 12.27.2004
Happy holidays! - 12.24.2004
Listen, I am not a complete dick, it's not like I want Joe to die alone surrounded by cats or something. - 12.23.2004
Plus I am convinced my butt is extra big when it's upside down. - 12.22.2004