It's Always Rainy in Seattle.

Being a meteorologist in the Pacific Northwest is probably the easiest job. For three reasons: (1) You can be wrong about the weather 92% of the time and still be confident about your job security; (2) You basically just have to scatter the terms "Showers," "Rain," "Partly Sunny," and "Partly Cloudy" throughout your week; and (3) You only work for three hours a day...unless there is the threat of snow. If there is even an inkling of the white stuff on that doppler, then you can bet your 'mete'ocre ass you'll be hunting down that 4x4 square patch of ice on the sidewalk, in the highest point in the 'burbs, and will continue to slide around on said patch until it melts. In doing so, you will prove to drivers how treacherous the roads are, so people don't leave their homes and find themselves looking as foolish as you do. 

This just goes beyond the expectation of "finding the story."

The weatherman is such a tease. They just dangle their rays of sunshine and snow in front of you, only for you to wake up in the complete opposite climate of their predictions. Tell me, what other job can you fail at repeatedly and not get fired? I suspect no one would want their child in a classroom where a teacher assures them that 1+1=3. Or why not take your chances of being that patient in an operating room with a doctor that has a patient survival rate of 30%? Or how about trusting your life with a firefighter who...well, if he doesn't make it out, we know you're not.

I hate talking about the weather. Which is probably why I could never be a meteorologist, despite its enormous and enticing "learning curve." It's the thing you talk about when you're forced to be in close quarters with strangers for an extended amount of time. But why is this the go to subject? Are we that unobservant and dull that the only possible thought that comes to mind is that of the most obvious thing? Don't get me wrong, I'm guilty of becoming engaged in the weather go-to. And every time I do, I lose a little piece of my soul and hate myself for it:

While standing in the rain in line at Century Link:

Stranger: It really is coming down out here!

Me: Yeah, it's pouring.

While going through the grocery check-out:

Checker: Man, it's really coming down out there!

Me: Yeah, it's pouring.

Checker: Stay dry out there!

It's only when I hear others discussing the weather when I realize how absolutely obnoxious we sound (Other than writing out my own transcriptions, that sheds light too). Like today, in my office:

Lady #1: Oh some websites are saying we could get 16 inches!

Lady #2: ::Picks up the phone:: Hello? Oh what's the weather doing there?

::silence::

Well it was just a blizzard outside! Snow was coming down in huge flakes! But now it's not doing anything.

Lady #1: ::Interrupting Lady #2:: Don't you see how quickly those clouds are moving? It's definitely about to snow again.

Lady #2: ::Into the phone:: Well the clouds are moving quickly...it probably will snow again soon.

It didn't. At least for the next hour I was sitting there while those quick-moving-clouds went by. However, I do think that the both of them should put their applications in for the local news channel.

Meteorologists, I don't hate you. If anything, I should envy you for being smart enough to pick the only profession that you can be incorrect on the regular, yet people will still turn back to you nightly to find out what they should wear tomorrow. You found your way around the system. 

Luckily, so did I. I found Siri. 

A Seattle Weekend.

Although I technically live in Seattle, I haven’t been around for a full weekend in quite sometime. Last weekend was spent in PDX for one of the best weekends of summer thus far, celebrating my friend Jenn and her beau Ryan’s nuptials at a glorious outdoor affair. The previous two weekends, I was in Barbados visiting my mom.

In an early Friday morning surprise call, my friend Nicole gave me an extra Mariner’s ticket for the game that night. By no means am I an avid fan of our nation’s favorite pastime (I’d like to know who declared this by the way), but I am a fan of any and all live sporting events. I like to be apart of the essence of the live action competition. I’d also never been to Safeco field; in fact, this was only my second trip to a MLB game in my entire life. I was excited to say the least.

My first MLB game I attended was in ’08 at the old Yankee Stadium where I thought it might be the last day of my life, period. We were stuck in the nastiest thunderstorm and had a delay of game about 5 times. I heard Madonna was also in the stadium as this was when she was dating A-Rod. More importantly in attendance? Ken Griffey Jr. on the field.

Sidenote: In the excitement of such events (as I felt like a child of 13 but with full ability to partake in the libations that also added to the excitement), it’s important to sequester yourself from your cell phone. You may decide that everyone needs to know how much fun you are having in that exact moment and that it’s important they receive a play-by-play. But lo, you are not a commentator and they can all be filled in later. By posting the photos on FB, duh.

So now that I reside in a city with a baseball team, I guess I am obligated to cheer for them and have made that official by buying a shirt. And I also suppose I can cheer for the Sounders when they aren’t playing my home team of the Portland Timbers. However I kind of feel inclined to cheer for Man U on Wednesday night while I’m out on Qwest field. I guess my Seattle soccer strings aren’t tied all that tight.

Sunday my best friend, her best boy, a friend of theirs and I were planning to check out The Bite of Seattle because simply put, we love food and local events. However, being mid July and all in the Pacific Northwest, it was raining. When I arrived to meet them and go down to the fest, we all looked at each other with slightly defeated faces and decreasing enthusiasm about spending an extended period of time in the rain. The last time the best friend and I did this, we ended up soaked through our clothes at the Sounders-Timbers match. It's a good thing neither of us was wearing white.

Would the rain make us retreat back into our homes to partake in fall and winter like activities like drinking hot cocoa and watching movies all day? No my friends, it did not.

To Ballard we went.

I really like this neighborhood and have only spent two nights so far here. We decided that we should be fans of our country and cheer on the USA vs. Japan in the Women’s World Cup finals over some food and beers. The beers may have outweighed the food as we sadly lost in a crummy crummy shoot out. We were four glum faces who needed a pick me up which translated into some intense matches of Ping Pong down the street at the upmost of dive bar establishments. Free Ping Pong, a juke box and only one over-served man bothering us? Well color it Christmas in July for this group:

[This is how we deal with World Cup losses]

Seattle, I apologize for my absence. I promise to make it up to you if you stop freaking raining.

I can tell that we are gonna be friends.

There are cardboard boxes still folded over and stacked up in my living room, but I am unpacked. What a feeling.

It did not come without struggle, thanks to my nostalgic tendencies, but everything has its place (almost) and my new home is looking glorious. I absolutely love it. I feel serene, relaxed and comfy cozy in my new walls.

I love it so much that I find it hard wanting to leave my living room and the sound of my record player to go exploring. Well, that and I’m getting over the plague. But I peeled myself off the couch and have started to wander around the greater part of my new home.

It seemed like I waited days to receive my first piece of mail that wasn't junk as I was impatiently waiting to get my new library card. Since I don't have a Washington license, this is required in order for them to hand over the goods. Now I feel intellectually connected that I am the proud owner of a Seattle Public Library Card.

I've also found the nearest Target and have paid them two visits. Balance.

On my first night out with one of my girlfriends that lives up here, Sarah, we found ourselves in the funky streets of Fremont. I've visited this area before on previous trips, but it very much reminds me of the weirdness of Portland and I'm pretty sure I'll find my corner there as I had such a good time walking on its sidewalks last night and today. We went to The Dubliner, an Irish bar as the date of March 17th calls for us all to become Irish or a descendant of some famous leprechaun, then found ourselves food that wasn't Shepherd's pie and additional libations at Dad Watsons. The best part of this night for me was unknowingly finding a parking spot right by the troll underneath the Aurora Bridge. I know most wouldn't find such excitement in the presence of an unsightly troll (especially if your surname is Sheen), but it happens to star in one of my favorite movies and seeing that concrete face of disgust on St Patty's night, brought me great joy. On our ride home, the downtown city skyline was to our right, all lit up, and I couldn't believe it was my time to be apart of this city.

In another internal dispute this morning, I thought it would be a good idea to maybe get some work done on my upcoming term being that I have no material whatsoever prepared. To further convince myself to remove thy booty from thy cushion, I gave myself permission to do some not-so-window shopping before I found a cute cafe and got to work. Back in Fremont, I rummaged through 99 cent bins of Vinyl to find a few select gems I had been looking for and of course, walked away with ones I now could not live without. Some Simon with his boy Garfunkel, some Elton, Billy, and Tommy James & The Shondells ("Crimson & Clover" is one of my faves of all time). My record collection is really starting to fill out.

Afterward, I was innocently walking to my car to find this cafe, when the words "Wine Warehouse" invaded my line of vision. I stopped in. Just to look around, of course.

I met Michael, the owner of this mecca of wine. He told me about the special events, the free tastings they have on Fridays (did I mention it was Friday?) and I left the store happily with some vino and now as a member of this great establishment. I have already received an email of upcoming events that I can't wait to attend. Now I feel Oenologically connected.

Eventually, I found my cafe. What I didn't find in my bag that I packed so well, was my laptop. Oh well. I guess work will have to wait.

The needle has been found.

The most amazing thing happened to me today.

I rummaged through the haystack and it wasn't as easy to find as the obvious 1960's needle that pokes through Seattle's skyline. Apparently you can't type "fabulous apartment in my price range and in an ideal location" into your GPS system to lead you to "home." And funny enough, there is no yellow brick road to take you to Oz in the Emerald City.

But I found it anyway without Liza (my GPS voice) or Dorothy.

I found a place to live.

About 5 weeks and 1 day ago, I made a decision to leave my beautiful hometown Portlandia for another city. It’s not that I haven’t enjoyed Portlandia’s company; the times we’ve had together are innumerable and priceless. It’s just that I want to see what else is out there. It’s not you, it’s me. I promise.

[Note: This sign now reads "Portland Oregon" but I have sentimental value with the old way. After all, this reads true for me. Minus the "Old Town."]

This move wasn’t “planned” per se, but the bed bug of moving has been biting me for the last five years ever since I graduated undergrad. And boy is s/he a bitch. Maybe that’s the culprit of my insomnia.

I started looking for jobs elsewhere and a Master’s program fell into my lap. Not to be one to say no to free schooling, I took it.

Two years later, thesis written and defended, I searched nationally as well as locally and was offered a job in a private business in Oregon. Not to be one to say no to good money and benefits in a failing economy, I took it.

When that economy took its toll on my company, I again was on the hunt for a job. That’s when OSU rang like the orange & black fairy it is and asked me to teach. Not to be one to say no to my awesome alma mater (+health care/benefits), I took it despite its required 150 mile commute, 3 days a week.

You see where this story is going.

In these 4 years where I kept Oregon as my home, I’ve scratched at said bug with an inordinate amount of travel. New York x4, Palm Springs, Vegas x3, Disneyland, Boston, Philly, DC for Inauguration, Park City for Sundance x2, Hawaii, Whistler, Cabo, and a couple cruises. But I still come home tossing and turning. [For the record, my bed is incredibly comfortable and free of bed bugs. Maybe not the best of metaphors given that these creatures have become somewhat of an epidemic].

Fast-Forward January 2011. Over a delicious brunch of French toast in Bridgetown, one of my fabulous girlfriends and I were discussing changes and moving as she is moving herself come March. I gave her the same response I’d been giving myself for years, “What about a job? What about money?” She told me to just do it.

I come home from brunch and my roommate informs me that our landlord is in the midst of selling our condo and they want us out sooner than our agreed upon lease and are offering a very nice “incentive.” Well, one of my excuses is nil. There’s the money. Timing, you’re funny.

There was still the whole issue of having employment, the chances of finding employment in an unfriendly job market, and quitting my 2 jobs when most have none. What sense did this make? Apparently enough. Being the planner that I am, I like for things to be predictable or at least have a relative sketch of my foreseeable future. I made the very unsettling decision to move without a job. Enter extreme anxiety.

So Seattle, you’re it. Some refer to Seattle as Portland’s brother city…I wouldn’t dare, as it seems inappropriate to leave one family member for another.

Five weeks and two days later, I’m with JOB and a home. I’ve seen the worst of Seattle and then I walked into my home…apartment number 10 that I saw to be exact. It was the first place I felt it wasn’t necessary to pinch my nose to save my body from communicable diseases it could possibly get from invasive aromas and that I could lay in the middle of my living room and fall asleep there watching Friends. This is imperative.

After gleefully signing a lease and sharing hugs with my mom and granny (my apartment hunters of the day), I called my dad who has been supportive but I also believe to be secretly hoping it doesn’t work out so I’ll stay home.

Dad: Wow, you’ve got a lot done in a month.

Me: Didn’t think I could do it?

Actually, I really didn’t think I could do it but I thought if I kept envisioning it happening, then maybe it would become reality. I never give myself much credit for getting anything accomplished as there are always items running into tomorrow’s planner checklist that I wanted to get done today, but today, I am giddy with delight.

I feel like calling for Penny Lane and yelling, "IT'S ALL HAPPENING!"

Exhale.

Moments: The Twenty-Ten Edition

My greatest fear is inevitable; the moment will pass and I will still be here, reveling in its magic.

2010 was filled with such moments. And THE moments of all moments.

I remember my first [well, one of] moment of 2010. I was in the back of a cab that was driving around in circles. No, this memory was not induced by a champagne toast; I have other witnesses to attest to this occurrence. He was literally driving in a circle.

My year was kind of like this. Having directions, the GPS was set, yet I wasn’t quite sure where I was going or what would happen. And I had my friends along for the ride, laughing at the hilarity of all situations. And there were many. Far too many to list in a blog and complicated with “insideness” that would probably just irritate you. Unless you are one of these people.

January.

[Egyptian Theater-Downtown Park City, Utah]

Park City. This trip will go down in the books as one of my favorites in this lifetime. And yes, I can confidently say lifetime…presuming that I’ll live an average-aged life to mid 80’s [or so, if I’m feeling really ambitious]. The atmosphere alone can make one fall in love with this locale. Jon Gosselin even tried to kill my Polygamy Porter buzz by stealing my cab, but the snow-packed streets had already warmed the heart of this one.

Memorable Moment(s): In a long weekend with one of my favorite girlfriends, Sarah, I saw 6 independent films, all awesome (how often do you get SIX for SIX!?), asked the adorable Joseph Gordon-Levitt a question about his dark film ‘Hesher’ in a Q&A after the film, and brushed elbows with a little known star I like to call Adrian Grenier. No literally, I turned to find the restroom and there were his curly locks, 7 inches above my stocking-capped head. And to think, the entire vision I had of what Sundance would be like came from his show…’Entourage.’

Full circle.

February.

[Pacific Ocean - Seal Rock, Oregon]

Newport. I’ve made a tradition of visiting this coastal town annually every February since I hit my 252nd month [that's 21 years for those of you measuring life in years] for their amazing Seafood & Wine Festival. It never disappoints. This year, my book club or better known as BRB, the Book Reading Babes, rented a house and made a weekend of it. We already have our place for February 2011 booked.

Yum to the Vin-O!

March.

[The Best French Toast in the universe- Cafe Nola, Bainbridge Island, Washington]

Seattle. The first of 4 trips I would take to our Northern neighbor in 2010 was to have a girl’s weekend. One of my great friends, Carey, flew out from New York to unite with us Pacific Northwesterners.

Memorable Moment: Café Nola. Located on Bainbridge Island just a ferry ride west of Seattle, this adorable eatery is the crafter of the best French Toast I’ve ever consumed. If you know me, you know I don’t speak lightly of “favorites” and I usually find it incredibly difficult to discern between numbers 1 and 7. There are no doubts here. We applauded after the meal.

Do yourself and your mouth a favor and make reservations.

April.

[Love Park - Philadelphia, Pennsylvania]

Philly. My lovely friend Allison moved East to pursue her Doctorate in PT and I decided that spring time would make for a nice visit. My other adventurous pal, Megan, also happened to be residing on the East coast at that time in Boston and we decided that the city of brotherly love would make for a great rendezvous.

Memorable Moment: I’d been on the ground about 2 hours and had just dropped my bags off with Allison. I was looking for the set of Robert DeNiro and Bradley Cooper’s movie [obviously] and stumbled upon LOVE park. Funny. When you’re looking for other things, love just sneaks up on you.

Also, reenacting Rocky with Megan on the infamous steps of the Art Museum…without ever watching Rocky. Don’t judge. I know, it’s almost as bad as being a die-hard-poo-talking Oregon fan and never stepping foot on the Eugene campus. I digress, we’re talking about good things here…

June.

[Archery Summit Vineyard artwork - Dundee, Oregon]

Wine Country. Park City Sarah [For which she will be called the duration of this blog] and I have quite the affinity for grapes [preferably fermented] and try to experience as much of Oregon wine country as possible. So to celebrate my 26^th year she planned an extravagant tour of wine country.

Memorable Moment: Sitting on the patio of our first vineyard stop, Archery Summit, closing my eyes and just breathing that fresh Oregon air. What an invigorating feeling.

Oh, I also got a tattoo.

July.

[La Playa del Amor - Cabo San Lucas, Mexico]

Cabo. The best friend, her roommates and I planned a summer vacation to our Southern brethren. Well I guess Americans use the term, “brethren” conveniently. You know, when we want to enjoy its beautiful rays we say, “brethren”; when they want to enjoy the opportunity of our land and what’s left of employment we say, “illegal immigrants.” Flip-Flop.

We stayed in a marina-side resort in the heart of Cabo and filled our tummies with Mexican food, our skin with melanoma, and our livers with, well, with adult beverages.

Memorable Moment: I took a little glass bottomed-boat ride to Lover’s beach or “La Playa del Amor” if we are using the native tongue, and it rivaled some of the beaches I experienced in the Mediterranean. Uh May Zing.

Mama K’s Wedding. One of my great college gal pals, Mama K married her OSweetheart in the most luxurious affair of the year. I had the incredible honor of serving as one of her maids and giving a toast. For some reason, I can never hold it together when I’m discussing emotions and began crying in the first sentence. I think it went well.

[Waterfront - Downtown Portland, Oregon]

Memorable Moment: Right before Mama K took center stage, we were anxiously awaiting the phone call to summon us down to wedding headquarters. By “we” I mean the bridesmaids. Mama K was as calm as ever. The phone rang, she stood up looking ever-so glamorous, and we followed our girl in tow to marry her guy. What a wonderful day.

August.

[Fountains at the Bellagio - Las Vegas, Nevada]

Vegas. Park City Sarah and Allison [Philly] and I decided we needed a get-a-way to reunite. The three of us met serving as loyal tour guides of the great Oregon State University back in 2004. During that time, we took a beach trip to Lincoln City and cleverly dubbed it “BT ’06”-Beach Trip 06. We needed something to top such an adventure. [For those of you who aren't Oregonians, Lincoln City is about 2.5 hours away from where we lived. You now see why the adventure was necessary]

We named this one VT ’10. And my did it blow BT ’06 out of the water.

Memorable Moments: Vocally assaulting the Bellagio (by Bellagio, I mean whoever was in front of the Bellagio in earshot) for daring to play a Faith Hill song during the upscale fountain show that usually plays the likes of Andrea Bocelli and Elton John, meeting Italian friends and eating at the Brazilian Steakhouse, Samba.

The other moments are meant to stay in Vegas. And will. Until my aforementioned death in my mid 80’s.

Crater Lake.

[The Lookout - Crater Lake, Oregon]

I found myself troubled with my Oregon identity and being able to label myself as an Oregonian with never setting foot on arguably the most famous of Oregon soils. Crater Lake. So it was decided! I woke up one day, called my friends Chris and Lisa, and asked if they’d be down for a brief camping trip to the landmark of all Oregon landmarks.

Memorable Moment: The drive seemed to be taking forever. You know one of those ones where you’re so ridden with excitement that every time you see a sign mentioning the name of your destination you think you’re almost there and should see noticeable definitions of the place any minute now? The are-we-there-yet syndrome was kicking in at full notch and just when I thought I couldn’t stand it another moment, into clear view came Crater Lake. I nearly jumped out of the moving automobile that I was operating, to run to it.

All good things come to those who wait.

September.

School started and thus, ending my adventures. I did sneak in one last jaunt of summer freedom to Seattle :).

October.

[Waiting for the shuttle that would never come - Corvallis, Oregon]

Homecoming. I planned a little reunion trip to our college town with my college pals. Yes, I know, now that I teach and “spend” a lot of time there, what could I possibly need a reunion for? Basically, I arrive when class begins and depart when it ends. I don’t “spend” random time there. And it is a completely different experience being an instructor compared with being a student and not being surrounded with your closest network of friends.

Memorable Moment: Tailgating and revisiting our pedestrian roots that we grew so familiar with in our undergrad years.

November.

[The Cutest Baby Feet Ever]

Olivia. I’m not certain if the memory is still so vivid because of its recency or if I will be able to recall it with so much emotional clarity in years to come. I hope I will be able to. But what I will always keep with me is the knowledge of how incredibly much my world transformed and the growth of my heart on November 13^th 2010.

December.

[Mount Hood, Oregon]

[Deschutes Brewery - Bend, Oregon]

Bend. We took a quick trip to Central, OR with New York Carey, Shayna and her boyfriend Josh to Carey's parent's abode. It snowed immensely, we made snow angels, and visited Oregon's breweries. I've been to Sam Adam's in Boston which is arguably one of the more popular national breweries. I realize the popularity of their [mediocre] beer. But they have nothing on Deschutes.

And still…Olivia.

Memorable Moment: Watching that girl grow. My oh my.

The Rituals. Even with these amazing adventures, my year would be unfulfilled without ‘True Blood’ Sundays in the summer with Park City Sarah and Jenn, that transform into NBC Thursdays or Glee Tuesdays [accommodating to schedules] with S, my phone dates with my favorite East coasters, the daily and vital chats with the best friend, the monthly BRB meetings discussing our latest good read and the necessary Happy Hours with good friends.

The 'iDo's' & 'iWills.'

[Northern Lights Christmas Tree Farm - Pleasant Hill, Oregon]

And to the Farber's [see July], McBride's McDonald's and Starr's, I'm in adoration of your strong bonds with your now spouses, and your oh-so-different nuptial gatherings were blissful. Whether in the fanciness of downtown Portland, the beachside of Otter crest or in the midst of a farm on a clear and perfect Oregon summer's night, I wish you eternal joy.

To those three mighty special women who have been such prominent people not only in my 2010, but in my life [Nicole-20 years of friendship, Kristen-we are going on 17 years I believe and JGonz-we're working on 7], I am elated for your engagements. More so, I am glad your guys understand and appreciate the true unique beauty of not only the outside, but of your hearts and minds. Mazel Tov, my friends. He should've and did put a ring on it.

I revel in all these memories; the large and momentous to the routine and random that intervene the ordinary. That’s where the inside jokes are made. That’s where life resides.

There’s no telling what this next year will bring, but I will be sure to buckle up. After all, safety first. And no one wants a ticket.

Even if I am just driving around in circles.