On Leaving Capitol Hill

I haven’t lived anywhere but the Hill since moving to Seattle. I have always been walking distance from Broadway, at the most, about a mile, at the least, one block. I found my Seattle home here. I have not lived anywhere this long in my entire life. Not in my geographically tumultuous childhood or as …
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Fish Wednesday: Smoked Cod Edition

If you don’t make sure the foil clears the heating element in your oven, you will be shocked by the amount of smoke that you’ve created. It won’t set the smoke alarms off if you are vigilant (or if you haven’t changed the batteries in a while). You will be a little annoyed at having …
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Wanderlust: Sickness and Sin

Note: While some things about this post are as true today as when I wrote it, close to exactly one year after I published it, I was eating dinner at the night market in Saigon.

I was in the airport last week and after I dropped off the husband, I walked past the Hawaiian Air counter. There was no line. “What if…” I thought, feeling in my jacket for my wallet. It happens in the movies all the time. Some disenchanted broken hearted misdirected soul wanders up to the counter and asks for the next flight to the tropics. They hand over a credit card and the camera cuts to a montage of – hey, there I am, shopping for a swimsuit, a towel, some flipflops, and a sarong! Moments later, to the sound of cheesy 70s pop, I’m frolicking in the surf, cut, drinking a cocktail with an umbrella in it, cut, walking in to the sunset, a silhouette against an orange sky. Believe it or not, I’m walking on air, never thought I could feel so free eee eee!

Sigh. As if.


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Things Fall Apart

Wonder Bread factory on Jackson Street. I submitted this photo (unphotoshopped) to the Entropy theme on JPG magazine. If you like it, go vote for it. Registration on the JPG site is required – I totally get it if you don’t want to bother.

Year of the Pig

I absolutely adore Seattle’s International District. It smells funny, it’s crowded, the streets are unforgiveably dirty. The supermarkets are chaotic, the restaurant menus are mysterious and sometimes risky. The alleys smell bad, there are sketchy people everywhere. Parking can be a complete trial and walking can have its own challenges. But I love the I …
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February Breakdown

We’d spent the afternoon looking at housing and I was hungry. Really hungry. Over grilled shrimp tacos (me) and eggplant lasagna (B.), we flipped through the sheets on each of the properties we’d seen, dividing them in to “Maybe” and “What? Are you high?” stacks. The waiter – never underestimate your waiter, people – saw …
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