<$BlogRSDUrl$>

Sunday, August 31, 2003

Hey, y'all. Sorry, been playing lately, and therefore lazy. Seattle is still vacation town, and my activities are those of a vacationer. But the money's getting low, so that'll be ending this week. Here, however, is an email to the Chief that I liked, just for a taste of the week:

Heya Boss-

Yeah, so yesterday morning my pal A calls up and tells me to meet her after work (take the 75 to Northgate Transportation Center and then walk across the parking lot, away from the Mall), so I get set up all early, put
together the Ikea shelves Buttons and I had to get on Monday ('cause all my books and records and cds and suchlike bullshit showed up), pull the stereo out of the cabinet with the autumn leaf knobs and shove the cabinet in the bedroom so I could have some kind of dresser ('cause my monkey, who really was NOT ready for me to be here despite her denials of such, had cleared all of three drawers for me in her dresser, and Billy's got more clothes than that, somehow), rewire the stereo and stick it on one of the many tables my baby has in her living room (this one less decorated than most with only a simple base coat of pale sage enamel and some rust-colored stencil-work on the legs; most of the occasional tables in the living room look like Dali vomited on them, but in a good way), tear open my boxes 'o crap and load the shelves with books, comics, action figures, framed pictures transplanted from the cabinet with the autumn leaf knobs, videotapes (her copy of Serendipity nervously shouldered up against my copy of Taxi Driver and other suchlike contradictions), a small potted plant, the phone/digital answering machine, and a record collection that has so many '80's albums that it could only belong to cohabitating Gen Xer's, then break for lunch, phone calls to friends & family who are suddenly thousands and thousands of miles away, a few cigarettes and a beer, then back to it, hauling, shuffling, finding myself kneedeep in Swedish cardboard and battered trans-continental Jim Beam boxes which need to be reduced, via razor-knife, to a size digestible by the recycling bin out back, suddenly realizing that it's very nearly three o'clock and I'm neither showered nor shaved (and there're two loads of laundry to be yanked out of the dryer and folded nicely) and so I become a whirling dervish of cleanup and hygiene and find myself twenty minutes early for the bus (giving me time to wander to the pizza place for a bottle of water and tip the guy behind the counter a buck for being the happiest, cheeriest motherfucking pizza place guy I'll ever meet) and read until the 75 shows up, then sing to myself on the whole ride over to Northgate ("I ride on the bus into the city every day...I sit on the seat and I dream my life away...I dream I'm on an island with that foxy lady too...but when I awaken, I must be mistaken, I'm on 3rd avenue...won't you take me away, and take away me, won't you take me away, and take away me...") and leap off at Northgate and head over to Redball, where I sit and smoke for a few minutes until my monkey comes out in the scrubs she has to wear for school and so I get to play boy/girl with her for a few minutes before she tells me she's got to jet and she says "Go upstairs and let your stupid friend know that you're here," so I head up and meet the phone receptionist guy who I've been getting past to get to A and my monkey for the last couple of years (utterly not what I expected, but it's too long to get into), get intro'd around the office (pretty much to a bunch of amazed "OhMIGod! This is him?!!?"'s, which is *GAH* to the 1,000th power) and then A and I go a'walkin' up past the North Seattle Community College and see the fruit guy, who's just as fucking happy as everybody else in this goofy-ass town and we buy apples, pears, nectarines, plums (which are so juicy that I have to bend over at the waist to eat them as we walk down the street) and peaches from him and just keep walking and walking and end up at Greenlake and the morning clouds have totally burned off and it's sunny with big fat white clouds scudding to and fro and it's just so goddamned pretty that I feel a little piece of my soul kick up its little booties and keel over from the sheer beauty and we walk (saunter, really) to these stone steps that lead up to the water's edge and sit and eat fruit and watch ducks get within a few feet of us (for which they were rewarded with small bits of friut meat and the pits, which they seemed to enjoy fighting over) and just sat and sat and listened to a jazz quartet that was playing just up the path from us and then we walked up towards A's neighborhood and went to the Red Mill and I got a veggie burger and A got a bacon cheeseburger and we split onion rings and fried portobello mushrooms (OhMiFuckingGod, chief...you should come out just for those) and then we wandered some more and she showed me an armoir she's thinking about getting and then went to her place, played with the cats for a bit, then headed down to Market to catch the 75 home just in time to meet my monkey getting in from school so I could hug her on the couch on the balcony and split a beer with her and let her tell me how stupid her teacher is for marrying a woman he's been dating less than a year.
And then sleep.
And then today I carried 40 lbs. of groceries on my back for two miles
'cause I missed the fucking 75, so I ended up taking a nap and now I need to go fix the lock in the storage area 'cause somebody tore it off, and tomorrow we're going to a Mariners game and I'm picking up my bike (try not to laugh too hard at the thought of me in a bike helmet) and friday there is, apparently, a luau.
So I'm not bored yet, really, and I told you the whining would stop.
I miss you, chief. You're a touchstone. Hope things are making sense for you as your year begins to crank up, and hope that cohabitation is still making you all smiley. Smiley is good.

Over and-

:):(


That's pretty much it. Seattle is beautiful, I'm riding a bike I couldn't afford if not for the generosity of pals and I'm stuffed to the fucking gills. I should weigh about 400 lbs. by Christmas, and by God, I'm looking forward to it.


Comments: Post a Comment

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?

All Contents Copyright 2008 W.H.Hardwick