Op/Ed, me, me, me
When we were little kids, my folks used to pry us out of bed before dawn on summer weekends, bundle us in the back of the Buick Estate Wagon, and drive us over the winding hazard that is California’s Highway 17. I don’t remember anything about the transition from bed to car, but I can …
Update: We know who was responsible for this and have sufficient evidence to prove it. A police report has been filed. The very nice officer informed me that this is actually quite a serious crime as it’s not only harassment at this scale, but mail fraud, which is punishable by quite a long stint in …
Gun control.
We do love our ex-neighbors, but we don’t tend to send them Martha Stewart mags as gifts. We’re on the record as being against superbikes, so it’s unlikely that we’ll be reading Cycle World. We’re against the wedding industrial complex, so Bride Magazine isn’t usually in the house. Husband, god love him, isn’t a supermodel …
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 …
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 …