July 9th, 2008

Walking

Seattle update, Part Whatever of a Bunch

I sped to Seattle. (Literally. Got my first-ever speeding ticket on Rainier Ave. yesterday. That thing you did, Chris? DON'T KEEP DOING IT.) The hanging-out and relaxing have begun, and have been ongoing since yesterday afternoon. Just me, the cool people my cool cousin Amy "Max" "Maximy" Walsh knows, the sun rays, the views, and my reading material. My kind of vacation.

"Maximy" -- my combination of her given name and her chosen professional name: it's short for Maxim; yes she named herself after Maxim deWinter in Rebecca -- has let me tag along on her stuff. (I must be sufficiently housebroken.) She had a nanny gig yesterday afternoon, meaning I got to see that she's good with children; she was looking after a girl named Jemma who's a week shy of her second birthday. Later we hooked up with Bo, Max's boyfriend, and all of us went to Seward Park's beach. We waded, even Bo, who's used to Georgia coastal water. Me, I've swam fully immersed in Oregon Coast water, which is C-O-L-D COLD even in August, so I had no problem wading. I told Bo he should get in the water and sing to her "I've been wading for a girl like you..."

OK, we're headed to the Columbia City Farmer's Market, so more details will appear magically in this LJ later.
iAm iSaid

At Last the Next Seattle Visit Post!

Back from getting fresh veggies and fish at the farmer's market (plus grilling supplies and additional grill-worthy food at Safeway):

After the beach at Seward Park yesterday, we returned Jemma to her family. We were joined at Maximy's by Sae, a friend and former roommate of Bo's (fellow Georgiaite, too...Georginian? Georgian? I should know this...), and she and Bo and I skedaddled to a pizza place for quick sustenance (good sustenance, too: my slice was a basil-pesto pizza that was a pleasing shade of green). We then spent a few hours socializing and drinking at the War Room's rooftop bar near the Broadway QFC. Max, who'd had an errand, caught up with us there. I let my throat get pleasantly burned by a small glass of neat whiskey 'cause hey, I wasn't driving, and I just enjoyed the mass of humanity and the 80s/90s music getting DJed. Prince makes all things better.

When night had fallen, Max and Bo and I (plus a couple more of their friends and colleagues; I don't feel like remembering and reciting names now) took advantage of taco night at the Wild Rose a few blocks away, as we were still hungry. Maximy seems to know everybody there, and (thank goodness) everyone we met there likes her. The cheap-but-good tacos went down well.

The day finished. Returning to Maximy's house was successful. The next day will be in...the next post!
Scorpio

Bainbridge Island Is Love. (Further Seattle Updatery)

One of Amy/Max/Maximy Walsh's current jobs is a landscaping job. On Bainbridge Island. Today I tagged along to that, too.

In a sign of the coolness of Max's life, her fellow landscapers are all veterans of burlesque shows. Yes, they're hot gardeners. I told her they should market themselves that way. Kind of like a bikini carwash.

We rode the City of Wenatchee ferry to the island this morning. Now that is a civilized way to commute. Expensive, though. Piled into Maximy's hatchback were five of us plus a small dog named Berty, short for Albertina. Once we got to the property, overlooking the island's western shore, I wandered next to the water then peregrinated (I love that word) back to the house. My job was to stay out of the way, reading The Stand and trying not to look like a plantation master. (I imagined myself with a mint julip in hand. That image seemed especially wrong.)

I was helpful, though, by keeping Berty occupied. She brought a succession of phenomenally slimy tennis balls over to us, and I did a lot of the throwing of said balls. If we wanted to distract her a good long time, we threw the ball out past shrubberies and windbreaks so she'd be wandering a while, happily getting drenched. One of the landscapers warned me that Berty at least once ran for balls practically non-stop for eighteen hours. She has the energy of a small power plant.

As I was a dumbass, I thought keeping to the shade would be enough to prevent sunburn. I was wrong. I'm lotioned up now to mitigate the damage.

We shared popcorn and drinks in the car on the ferry heading back this afternoon. We also shared jokes and overshared information, some of it involving armpit skin. Don't ask. We got the hot gardeners back to their various places, then got home. The farmer's market yielded good food that we're now digesting (yummmmm), plus another visit with Jemma and her family. Cute kid. I think she likes her name: she often refers to herself in the third person. Coming from a two-year-old, that's kind of adorable.