Friend visits from outta town. Talk some shop. Explore a new neighborhood. Buy some used French books. Make candied-espresso walnuts. Attend a BBQ. Meet some new friends (easily done while armed with said nuts*). Walk in the 60-degree sunshine. Try a new brunch place. Study some French with the company of a scone.
It was the last weekend of the summer, and I am satisfied.
* I could re-write the book, How to Win Friends and Influence People. Chapter 1: Make candied-espresso walnuts. Bring them to a party. Done. Everyone loves you. The End.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Sunday, September 20, 2009
1 year, 4 cities
It's my 3-month anniversary of living in Washington. In the last year, I have spent:
autumn in Davenport, Iowa
winter in Quebec City, Canada
spring in Atlanta, Georgia, and
summer in Seattle.
I guess my tail feathers were on fire.
I'm very curious to see what fall in the northwest will bring. As long as it's not SAD, I'm thinking it will be survivable. And maybe even fantastic.
autumn in Davenport, Iowa
winter in Quebec City, Canada
spring in Atlanta, Georgia, and
summer in Seattle.
I guess my tail feathers were on fire.
I'm very curious to see what fall in the northwest will bring. As long as it's not SAD, I'm thinking it will be survivable. And maybe even fantastic.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
questions
1. why's coffee make me all happy and shit? i mean, an 11-hour work day, and i could care less, all because of that little 8 ounces of creamy caffeinated heaven, my first in 5 days. LOVE IT.
2. how come girl talk (the music, not the gay feminine chattiness) makes me wanna dance, like even without any booze in mah veins? so thrilled for monday: showbox at the market. girl talk live. deliciousssssssss.
3. wine. what's up with the druggy beauty of a simple glass? just your average day, then BOOM. i feel all open and great and free, without the pressing urge to edit every. single. fucking. detail of life. and a little like i should always be on a 1-glass vino buzz, 24/7, for the sake of society all around me. COME ON, WHY NOT?
4. grilled cheese sandwiches, pathway to the heavens? i think so. makes you feel like a 7-year-old again, even when eaten past your regularly scheduled dinnertime, in your clinic clothes. fuck yeah. where's my cartoons?
2. how come girl talk (the music, not the gay feminine chattiness) makes me wanna dance, like even without any booze in mah veins? so thrilled for monday: showbox at the market. girl talk live. deliciousssssssss.
3. wine. what's up with the druggy beauty of a simple glass? just your average day, then BOOM. i feel all open and great and free, without the pressing urge to edit every. single. fucking. detail of life. and a little like i should always be on a 1-glass vino buzz, 24/7, for the sake of society all around me. COME ON, WHY NOT?
4. grilled cheese sandwiches, pathway to the heavens? i think so. makes you feel like a 7-year-old again, even when eaten past your regularly scheduled dinnertime, in your clinic clothes. fuck yeah. where's my cartoons?
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
tuesday AM
Nothing like a homemade breakfast taco, an hour-long massage, brand-new $12 shoes, and the promise of an evening Skype date to set the tone for the day.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
caned but able
(Disclaimer: Though I probably totally deserved the following events, and they probably make me a horrible person, it doesn't make them any less hilarious.)
Saturday afternoon, I was walking downtown with my friend Lisa, trying to get to the intersection before the crowd of people coming from my right blocked us off from it. I noticed an old (blind? homeless?) woman coming, and thinking she'd be slow, rushed a bit to cross her path and clear the crowd. She was apparently faster than I gave her credit for, and not even looking up once, she came barreling into me, then - to my horror - began to lose her balance. I felt terrible for cutting her off, and was horrified that she was about to fall due to my impatient scampering. So I grabbed her forearm to help her out, while repeating, "I'm so sorry!"
She didn't fall. (Whew.) But she DID scream, "Leave me alone!" while jerking her arm away, then she grabbed her cane with both hands (as one would a baseball bat) and proceeded to beat my leg with it. Not really knowing what was happening, I realized her hat had flown off in the process, and she was hobbling away without it, still berating me: "Goddamn you!" I said, "Um, excuse me, I have your hat!" and I went over to put it back on her head. She paused and brought her head down to receive it. Then she wandered off into the Seattle streets, with her eyes still aimed toward the ground and her hair in her face, still not looking where she was going (because she was blind?? or had some other problems? I will never know!). I wasn't sure if I should feel bad for being in her way, or indignant for sustaining an assault (however feeble). But instead, I started choking back laughter, when Lisa and I realized what had just happened:
I got caned by an old woman.
Saturday afternoon, I was walking downtown with my friend Lisa, trying to get to the intersection before the crowd of people coming from my right blocked us off from it. I noticed an old (blind? homeless?) woman coming, and thinking she'd be slow, rushed a bit to cross her path and clear the crowd. She was apparently faster than I gave her credit for, and not even looking up once, she came barreling into me, then - to my horror - began to lose her balance. I felt terrible for cutting her off, and was horrified that she was about to fall due to my impatient scampering. So I grabbed her forearm to help her out, while repeating, "I'm so sorry!"
She didn't fall. (Whew.) But she DID scream, "Leave me alone!" while jerking her arm away, then she grabbed her cane with both hands (as one would a baseball bat) and proceeded to beat my leg with it. Not really knowing what was happening, I realized her hat had flown off in the process, and she was hobbling away without it, still berating me: "Goddamn you!" I said, "Um, excuse me, I have your hat!" and I went over to put it back on her head. She paused and brought her head down to receive it. Then she wandered off into the Seattle streets, with her eyes still aimed toward the ground and her hair in her face, still not looking where she was going (because she was blind?? or had some other problems? I will never know!). I wasn't sure if I should feel bad for being in her way, or indignant for sustaining an assault (however feeble). But instead, I started choking back laughter, when Lisa and I realized what had just happened:
I got caned by an old woman.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
the state of things
I finally moved to a city where the plan - for lack of a better word - is to stay for a while, at least longer than a few months. Yet I still feel so temporary about everything. It’s a perspective I’ve evolved over the course of nearly 10 years of being on the move, of living in impermanent places that are only for school, or only for an internship, and then, and then, and then... there will be some place else! It's like a cloak I throw on each time a new opportunity presents itself, to remind myself: ‘don’t get comfortable… this is only for a spell.’ I wonder now when the time will come when I feel stable enough to toss off the cloak. Will it happen after a certain time period here? Once I know the ins and outs of the city? When my salary increases and I start paying off the debt, saving money, becoming responsible?
I know it’s only been two months. I look back at Quebec, and at the 2-month mark, I was already dreading my departure, but was so happy with where I was. At that same point in Atlanta, I was indifferent to staying or going… I was happy for the time being, but knew from the beginning there that it was just a stepping stone. I knew the next thing would be coming soon, so any sadness I had about leaving a place I was just getting to know was overshadowed with the excitement of starting again, this time with a REAL job.
And here, it’s so weird to try and think about the long term, since there hasn’t been one before. But in reality, this could be my long term. I mean, why not? It’s beautiful here… the landscape, the weather, the city. I have a great job, a secure one, with lots of potential, a great boss, a career that is taking off. I’m making friends who I really like. I have a home that I love returning to after a day’s work or a weekend trip.
And yet…
I still just don’t know. It all seems so up in the air. I don’t know if I’m not letting myself feel settled, or my intuition is telling me for some other reason not to get too comfortable. Or maybe, of course, it’s possible that I’ve just really started here, and inevitably it takes time to build… well, a life. Which is, I guess…what I’m supposed to be doing? Although I question what all exactly that entails.
In the meantime, I'll see how it all plays out. My Seattle existence. The northwest winter. Being far from any other place I've called home. Being a doctor for the first time. And, like with everything else, I'll trust the seat of my pants, and do like Dad says: one thing at a time.
I know it’s only been two months. I look back at Quebec, and at the 2-month mark, I was already dreading my departure, but was so happy with where I was. At that same point in Atlanta, I was indifferent to staying or going… I was happy for the time being, but knew from the beginning there that it was just a stepping stone. I knew the next thing would be coming soon, so any sadness I had about leaving a place I was just getting to know was overshadowed with the excitement of starting again, this time with a REAL job.
And here, it’s so weird to try and think about the long term, since there hasn’t been one before. But in reality, this could be my long term. I mean, why not? It’s beautiful here… the landscape, the weather, the city. I have a great job, a secure one, with lots of potential, a great boss, a career that is taking off. I’m making friends who I really like. I have a home that I love returning to after a day’s work or a weekend trip.
And yet…
I still just don’t know. It all seems so up in the air. I don’t know if I’m not letting myself feel settled, or my intuition is telling me for some other reason not to get too comfortable. Or maybe, of course, it’s possible that I’ve just really started here, and inevitably it takes time to build… well, a life. Which is, I guess…what I’m supposed to be doing? Although I question what all exactly that entails.
In the meantime, I'll see how it all plays out. My Seattle existence. The northwest winter. Being far from any other place I've called home. Being a doctor for the first time. And, like with everything else, I'll trust the seat of my pants, and do like Dad says: one thing at a time.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
