Saturday, February 9, 2013

Thoughts In February

I know I've been a bit absent.

My camera broke. Now all I have is this point and shoot that takes mobile-phone-quality photograph.

But I'm throwing out some thoughts.

First. I think men singing falsetto is extremely, eh, attractive. Really attractive.


By 8:30 AM, my body had graciously awakened itself and I was out the door by 8:45 AM.

Good morning Capitol Hill.
As I write I’m eating the pear, spinach, arugula, carrot salad I made after a 2 hours wander.

This isn’t Alaska. This is nothing like Alaska ‘cept we have amazing trees here.

I settle into the new rhythm Seattle has provided me with, feeling an unsuspected feeling of belonging. The urban environment makes me feel like I’m a part of something.

Wandering is something I find pleasure in and I let my feet carry me without thinking, although I wasn’t surprised when we showed up at the Co-Op. I grabbed a bottle of salad dressing (I think it’s the first bottle I’ve bought in my life, I’m normally a oil and vinegar girl) and then walked a block to Trader Joe’s where I got a bag of small pears.

Walking by an elementary school, I hear a boy crying. He stares at me with red eyes and I ask if he’s ok. I want to talk more to him but I’m not sure how strict they are about “talking with strangers.” Of course I can’t make it better and I continue on and enter his school. I ask the lady at the front desk if there are any morning volunteer positions I could help out with. She gives me a number.

The most wonderful greeting I get was near Madison and 18th (if that exists). A vibrant, zealous woman greets me and we talk about our days a bit. I wonder if it’s racist that I think to specify that she was black, as if that changes things. I wanted to move in near her and be neighbours with her and have that conversation every day.

I initiated a lot of smiles in Capitol Hill and didn’t get the responses I’m used to. It was near-painful watching people pull back the sides of their mouths in an attempt to smile. It’s a pathetic attempt time and time again and I wish they would rather just ignore me.

Back home, I throw together (as opposed to tossing) a salad and allow myself to stuff. my. face. I like putting large amounts of lettuce in my mouth. It’s empowering.

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