Mumbling Madly

Sitting at a different Starbucks, (one that we succesfully hacked into a random network), still without a lot of working appliances, internet, etc. in our new place. This coffee shop is right next to Seattle University, an overpriced, Catholic, private college. Everyone has fantastic blue jeans and outrageous fashion sense. It’s raining but people are still wearing flipflops. I still feel disoriented. I still need a job.
The coffee shop up the street has a rasta feel to it, complete with local Black artists selling jewelry and paintings–which are covering the yellow and red walls. I feel a little out of my element in my new neighborhood. We’re sort of on the border of Capitol Hill, Madrona, and First Hill. Part of me thinks it’s super cool, all this diversity after white bread Ft. Collins…the other part has had to let go of my anxiety, the wierd small-town feeling I’ve left behind for something much bigger. I’m sure once I gain employment and develop a routine, I won’t feel so strange.

We won’t be getting internet until Wednesday. Right now we’re at a Starbucks in Capitol Hill. Josh is reading the New York Times, and i’m perusing blogs, job openings, etc. Yes, of course, I’m hysterical inside about not having internet access conveniently in my own home. Yes, I am of the New Generation that relies on the web for ALL my information needs.
Next Stop: IKEA!

In addition to debuting my husband’s new blog, I also want to refer you to the pics he has posted of our new place. Check him out at:
Schlag-Dog’s Blog, Dawg.

Suddenly it hit us: We have to pay first, last, and deposit in this town. This is over $3,000. This is so painfully stupid and shocking that I spent last night in a state of Sticker Shock. We came unprepared. We didn’t realize that this was the case in Seattle. It’s not the case in CO, where people actually go off your rental history. Luckily we’ve found a place, and the landlady has recognized the gross indecency of wiping out my savings account. We managed to bargain with her, partly because the idea of draining my savings account to $0 is painful (and if I drop below a certain amount I’m charged monthly). We spent the morning in rental limbo, waiting for the background check to go through and the all clear. Our stuff is arriving Friday and we’re really hoping for a place to put it instead of moving it all into storage. Everything felt so crazy and horrible, and of course I cried. I can’t seem to get through moving without crying at least once. I should just expect it, time it out, hide somewhere so no one can see me, and just get it over with.
It’s another beautiful day, here in the city. Hobbes had taken to sitting on a chair next to the window and chirping at birds. You know, those wierd sounds that cats make when they see birdies? Well, Hobbes was firing off all these little chirps at these BIG ass seagulls, I mean these birds are probably equal to her size if not bigger. Our hotel room is across the street from Lake Union, and all sorts of flying wildlife come off the water and perch on telephone poles in front of our hotel.
We went to a Safeway Starbucks because I had a coupon for a free grande drink. The guy that waited on us was super nice and even upsized us to a vente when he found out we were sharing the drink, (and the smell of our broke asses was everywhere). When we tried to tip him for his generosity he said, “No, no, I can’t accept tips.” We tried to leave a dollar on the counter and he gave it back to us with a hushed, “Really, I can’t take it, there are cameras.” So, appearantly these new Safeway establishments that Starbucks have whored themselves out to are part of a union, and not part of the corporation at all. The baristas are actually Safeway employees and have signed away their right to accept tips (literally) when they accepted the job. I can’t imagine that Safeway pays them enough to make up for the simple fact that the only advantage to being a barista is THE TIPS.

PS: Is this at all easier to read? Some of my loyal fans have not been responding which alerts me to the possibility that the font has blinded them.

This morning we were rudely awoken by a huge furry racket: Our cat had run out of food. This put her in such a panic she started urgently licking the plastic shower curtain as if her life depended on it. Hobbes’ healthy waistline is attributed to the huge importance she’s placed on the amount of food in her bowl. And we, foolishly, have catered to her. Last night all we had left was cat treats, which I lavishly placed in her bowl to Hobbes’ grave disappointment. This morning the treats had been devoured and no substitute would suffice so, after chowing on the free continental breakfast, we headed off to Trader Joe’s.
Aaaah, T.J’s how I have missed you! I couldn’t believe it: Fresh flowers addorned the entrance! I stumbled up and down the aisle, gawking and trying to take it all in. I couldn’t even pick anything out; Sushi for 2.95? Cat food for 29 cents a can? ARE YOU KIDDING ME? I don’t know why I ever thought I’d seriously shop at Whole Foods regularly now that I can remember how bad ass Trader Joe’s is! (And I even worked there five years ago). The oppression I experienced in CO wasn’t fully felt until I embraced the aisles of T.J.s . Hurrah for Goddess Dressing and Organic Chocolate bars! We picked out some cat food and a double wide cat scratcher and vowed to return once we found a place.
Josh and I embarked on yet another detailed house hunt, the kind that involves internet and newpaper searches, phone calls (and message leaving), drive by’s, and the occasional break for food. After being almost run over several times, flipped off twice, and multiple cases of road rage (other people’s and our own), we ruled out Capitol Hill entirely. I’m done trying to manuever a car down a narrow, conjested street, only to be nearly struck by someone going the wrong way around a turn-a-bout. The neighborhood is still grossly overpriced for what you get, and parking is a nightmare…forget it. We headed south and found comfort in Madrona, Leschi, and First Hill. So, we’ll see….

Last night I reached a low point, a mild depression that was closely associated to not having a home or a job or very much money. For the past four years I’ve always had this mental calender, and because I usually had one to four jobs at any given time it was filled with a scattered schedule of dance classes, theater classes, store hours, and rehearsals…defininetly not a typical M-F, 9-5 type of way. Now the calender has been wiped clean, which some people might really enjoy, but I feel very unsettled.
Last night we went to an Italian restaurant with no menu, they just sort of brought out various treats and eats for us to try. The first thing they asked us was if we had any food allergies, if we ate meat and fish, etc. We gave them the all clear and they brought out everything from shrimp to little stuffed chickens. Naturally, this was a pricey dinner, but worth it for the experience.
Today we looked at several places, and the intresting thing was that the places just slightly out of our price range were the best and the one that was equal to the amount we paid for in Fort Collins was the worst. OK, so maybe we’re not going to find something fabulous for 850 or even 1000, but mind you, we’re avoiding apartments. But we’re also looking at places that were once the ghetto, now cleaned up, and newly refinished. We saw a fantastic 3 bedroom house on Beacon Hill for very little cost compared to everyone else, but it was really unfinished. The tenants before had trashed the joint, so the poor landlord was trying to refinish it. The hardwoods were raw, the carpet was pulled up, the light fixtures were bare, but the place was huge and beautiful and in an OK neighborhood. The question was: Can it realistically be done in a week and a half? Really? And would it be worth it? We’ve waited around for places to get finished before, usually ending up disappointed. But comparably it was a steal. The landlord even knocked off 200 just because it was just the two of us.
Then there were the OK places that we looked at that had equal plus and minuses….but usually it was case of the landlords asking for just a shade too much. And we peeked at a newly built Cap Hill apartment and grimaced at both the price and the tiny space. And I really feel like I’ve never really lived in an apartment before, why settle now? Oh, I’ve lived in a few multiplexes and a duplex and once I lived in an apartment for four months with Josh, but overall I just can’t resign myself to the closed, claustrophopic feeling I get with apartments. And trying to settle for a balcony compared to a backyard…well, it’s tough. But it’s also like, well, can we do it?
We wrapped up the day with Happy Hour at McCormick and Schmicks. Their 1.95 bar menu is legendary, so much in fact that for years Josh and I would reminice about it: FANATASTIC food for very little, and sure they gouge you for the drinks, but c’mon they have crab cakes for 1.95! Yes!

It has been a long day.
We awoke at 5:30am in an aiport hotel. The day before was surprisingly laid back, despite the delay with the person shipping our car and a sudden, horrible realization that, yes, Hobbes’ official travel ceritificate had been packed. (Luckily, I went back to the vet before closing time and got a new one…(Which sucks because they didn’t end up even asking us for it). I admit I was really excited…I mean, this is something I’ve wanted for a really long time, to move back to Seattle.
When we arrived at the airport, we had a total of six bags plus a cat in a carrier. We looked like one of THOSE passengers, all stressed out with several backpacks slung over our shoulders and two rolling suitcases. Hobbes had been remarkably good, so good in fact that we had let her out of her carrier on our trip from Ft. Collins to Denver and she had done fairly well…she prefers looking out the window when riding in cars and the night before was no exeption. But now she was back in her carrier and SCARED stiff. Not a peep or a meow came from her, she was petrified with fear.
We showed up two hours early for our United flight…and when we checked our bags in Josh asked for an exit row seat and she said “Are you a miles plus member?” And I jumped in and said, “NO, he’s just TALL.” And she said, “I can’t give you one, you have to be a miles plus member.” And Josh said, “Since when?” Because, c’mon, we have a cat in a carrier and Josh is almost 6′6, usually ticket people recognize that we may actually need the extra foot room. And the woman brushed us off and said, “Since always, but it’s only recently been enforced.” And we were aghast, like, are you serious? You have exit row seats but you’re not going to give us one? Fine whatever. It pissed us off so bad.
When we showed up at the baggage scan, I was informed that I had to remove Hobbes from the carrier. WHAT? Omigod, it took forever just to get her into the carrier and now I need to take her out? The security guy said something like, “What? You didn’t tranquilize her?” And i responded tersely, “What? YOU wannatry and shove a pill down her throat?” Or something equally frustrated. So, I scooped Hobbes out and carried her through with me to the Other Side, and she was shaking the whole time…seriously, shaking and breaking my heart. Of course Josh got pulled aside for the adavanced screening, and when he asked if he could help me get Hobbes back into her cage, he was denied. Luckily all three of us made it out alive.
When we arrived at our gate we shared a muffin for breakfast and I drank a double cappuccino. Every now and than Hobbes would fire off a meow, like, “Hey, guys, what the hell?” Josh asked the woman at the gate about the exit seats and she said, “Oh, we sell them now at a higher rate…and I can’t give them to you anyway beause you’re not a Miles Plus member…” So we walked away and figured the exit rows would be filled with balding, white, old business men who happen to be Miles Plus members.
When we squeezed onto the plane we realized several things: 1) There were a total of TWELVE exit row seats on this plane, and 2) SIX SEATS WERE OPEN. We knew this because we were conveniently seated BEHIND the exit row. I can’t describe how furious I was…ok, I understand, be the goddam classist bastards that America is known for, but we were SQUEEZED in and it’s not like the elite had filled up the seats, they were open! So we take off, and right when we reach cruising altitude, the Miles Plus Business Man in front of Josh kicks back his seat forcing Josh to bend his knees up to his chin. Something snapped, and I woke the sleeping teenager next to me (who was part of a large crew of Band Kids), saying, “Look, kid, you’re gonna have to get up so we can yoink those exit row seats” and Josh and I hauled Hobbes out from under the seat and charged one of the exit rows. You have to imagine that there’s this laid out business man, reading his paper and relaxing in his exit row seat, with two empty seats next to him, and all of a sudden he’s accosted by a delerious woman holding a cat in a cage and a tall sheepish gentleman at her side. “HI, we have a cat and my husband is really tall and we need to sit in the exit row.” BAM, the business guy barely pulled his jacket off the empty seat next to him before our butts were firmly planted and Hobbes was placed in front of our roomy seats. Despite the hassle, it was worth it. The trip went well, now that we had room to move around and our cat wasn’t smooshed up against someone’s ankles. And Hobbes continued to do remarkably well, although there was one freak out moment where she started shaking her cage back and forth and scratching on the inside…but other than that she did well.
We finally landed, and it was a glorious day…Hurrah! And than the airline lost one of our suitcases. It was the one with dress shirts, medications, and toiletries in it. A handful of things that we really needed…and of course, I immediately started to grieve for my lost suitcase; Like, there it goes, we’re never seeing it again, I can’t believe my goddam 25 dollar moisterizer was in there, and my earplugs–CRAP, I really need my earplugs! Mind you we hadn’t eaten in several hours and it was starting to take its toll. We left without the bag, picked up this ridiculous SUV that Josh thought we needed and it turned out it was way crappy and hard to drive and what do you need an SUV in the city for? So we went and got lunch and than traded it in for something else, and that something else turned out to be too short for Josh–he couldn’t even see the stoplights without hunching down, so we brought it back again and traded it out for something full-size. And than we tried to drive around and look for places but I realized that I was losing my mind…and now I’m sitting here barely typing, but exhilerated, and overwhelmed, and dear GOD I hope we find a cool place to live.

I can’t tell you how awesome it is for us to sit around and watch the movers pack. Granted, it took a lot of work last night to get the house to a place where movers could actually come in and work their Mover Magic. I’m exhausted, Josh is tuckered out, and Hobbes is pacing the joint, meowing and calling for her long lost food bowl. The movers are packing everything as we speak, and than tommorrow they load it up for us, car included. Today it is snowing…I’m so thankful we’re not driving out in this weather. Tommorrow we travel to Denver and than we fly out early in the next morning.
We bought Hobbes’ a pimped out ride so she could go on the plane as a “carry on.” We also bought something called “Quiet Moments.” It’s basically kitty valium, but with an herbal slant. The problem is these pills are HUGE, and they must taste terrible, because even mashed into wet cat food Hobbes is not interested. So then there’s the other option: Wrap her in a towel and force a “Quiet Moments” pill down her throat. This seems hypocritical to me.

Last night we had a small going-away party thanks to my dear friend, Teri. It was nice. I mean, you know, the whole ceremony of good-bye is always a little akward. (I usually try to duck out of parties without the obligatory: “Oh, you’re LEAVING? All ready? It’s only 2am!”) It was interesting to see who came…despite all the anguish over his senior project, all of Josh’s former group members came…as well as another random I.T. kid who looked so much like Josh in height and build I nearly grabbed his ass by mistake.
Ambrose and his very pregnant wife came…again, I’m sad that I won’t be able to see their new baby when he/she is born in June. We chitchatted about fight choreography and I returned the staffs we used during “Legendary.”
No one left yesterday without taking home one of my plants. This was seriously one of my biggest stresses: Giving Away All The Plants. It’s really incredible how many I had generated over the past three years. Granted, they’re all Idiot-Proof plants (spider plants, cactus, etc.), so it’s not like I have this incredible green thumb. I gave some away to co-workers, to the artist co-op, to the dance store I work at, and than finally last night I handed one over to each guest as they were leaving. I even talked each one of them up: “Ooo, that’s a nice little spider plant, look how healthy he is…he’s even producing a little baby spider right there…and the planter he’s resting in is really beautiful too!”
One of the best things I received was a set of photos taken by a professional during The L Project. Below is just a small sample from “Legendary”:

Teri, Mara, and Kim squaring off….and yes, there’s me about to kick ass with a staff.

The 3 of us in battle.

Last night we bid farewell to Courtney, Lyle, and their little boy, Gabriel.
Leaving Colorado means leaving Gabe, and this is one cool kid. Below are some pics:

Gabriel

Josh and Gabe blowing big ole’ bubbles. (Look at their size difference!)

Gabe and I eating toasted almonds.
Oh, and I totally ruined dinner…leave it to me to try and bake a very standard chicken and rice dish and totally screw it up. I forgot to cut the chicken in pieces, so it never got fully cooked. This is the easiest dish in the world, it contains cream of mushroom soup for crying out loud! We ended up ordered calzones, and they were fantastic. From now on, I’m sticking to Italian dishes.