January 27, 2013

A Day Off and A Night Out

I complain about living in Seattle a lot. I'm not exactly as grateful as I should be to live in a hub of greenery, cleanery, and nice, passive folk. The times I do enjoy Seattle, though, almost invariably come out of the blue, unplanned and unexpectedly. Like turning a corner on a drive near Lake Washington on a clear day and realizing you can see Mount Rainier perfectly -- or discovering there's a second Twice Sold Tales and it bears a delightful clowder of overweight cats to keep you company on your siftings through novels past.

On this particular Sunday, I had an afternoon to kill before the Golden Globes and a desire to see World Market downtown. I took J and A with me, and we had a nice time, but not nice enough to cheer up a crappy Sunday.

So I declared a Ferris Bueller day was in order.

By some miracle, we found parking just a few blocks up, right outside the Seattle Art Museum. If we'd been on a real Ferris Bueller's Day Off, we'd have gone inside and stared at paintings until Smith songs rang through our heads. I contented myself with taking pictures of the ever-astonishing moving hammer-man outside the building.



In a real Bueller situation, we also would have borrowed this car:



and visited the top of this building:


But, alas, time didn't allow.

So we decided to be tourists in our own town. We went to Pike Place Market.

Ferris,
Cameron,
and Sloane, reporting for action.

We got things rolling by volunteering to catch the fish in the well-known Pike Place fishmonger toss.

(And by "We," I mean "I".)

 
I was under the impression that this was the standard tourist deal. According to J, people normally come to watch the pros toss and catch the fish, not little women with big ideas.


I was a little woman with a big idea.

A small crowd of people had gathered by the time I'd missed my second catch. The fishmongers continued their gleeful "Hut! Ho!"-ing. The crowd expanded. Luckily my friends were the only ones taking pictures. I hope! After two failed attempts and a lot of blushing, victory prevailed:

My sleeves smelled like albacore tuna for the rest of the day.

We sampled and purchased these caramel-tasting Envy Apples.


We ate our way through jalapeno-raspberry, lavender, and rose petal jelly and a tequila-chocolate sauce. Mmmm.
I took home some lemon marmalade.



Next on our list was the lower level of the market, which houses my favorite pop culture shop, Golden Age Collectibles. I don't know anything about comics, but if you do, you'd probably like it too. Personally, I visit for the old 8x10 movie images, postcards, and script collection.

Well, hey!
We also found Lionheart Books, owned by David, who collects puppets and likes to half-sing his sentences. He was a cheerful fellow, wore a purple shirt, and liked to philosophize.


 Back outside, we found a toy shop that J wandered into in search of a chess set.


Needless to say we didn't find one.


We made a final stop at Rocky Mountain Chocolates. I've had their caramel apples in the past, and I can vouch for how delicious their treats are. That day, however, I just befriended this bear.


On our way back to the car, we were afforded a beautiful sunset. 

A couple weekends after the Golden Globes (this Saturday, to be precise) I finally went to Lucid on The Ave. I've been meaning to go there for years. There's nothing quite so classy-feeling as sipping a cocktail to the soft beat of live music and laughter amongst a great group of friends, and all three were sensational.

I had a "Mr. Toad."

This was all in honor of our dear friend, M, who came to visit from his new home in Berkley. Another dear friend, Ju., comes into town from DC in a few short days. It's comforting to be surrounded once more by familiar faces, discussing upcoming hurdles, triumphs, and plans to revolutionize the artistic world.

Cheers.

Days and nights like these, I remember why people are proud to call Seattle home. While it may not be my ultimate home base, it certainly has its moments of beauty.



If you look in the right direction.

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