The Pros and Woes of Small Space Living

April is one of my favorite months of the year.  Sure, both Jon's and my birthdays are smack-dab in the middle and it's (weather-wise) the first signs of spring, but over the last few years I've started to love it for an entirely different reason:

Apartment Therapy's Small Cool contest.

When I first moved up to Seattle and was taking a course in home staging, I spent countless hours scouring Apartment Therapy for small space ideas—and the majority of that time was spent looking at the entries for the annual Small Cool contest, where anyone can submit photos of their apartment/house (must be under 1000 sq. ft.) that show off their style, creativity and, most importantly, their unique approach to small space living.

 Small Cool 2010: Chris from Houston, TX

I have dreamed of entering this contest for years now.  Granted, I would never expect to win something like this—my budget and design sense are both at "work in progress" status.  The people that end up winning this contest are usually the people that live in VERY small spaces and who have access to more expensive pieces.  Plus, since I moved out of my 340 sq. ft apartment almost a year ago, I missed my opportunity to perfect that ol' space o' mine. (But I am happy, at least, that I got to gut the place of all unnecessary furniture and crap before I left so I could get a glimpse of its potential.  Not bad for my first official staging project. I just have to ignore the lack of any artwork on the walls... *sob*...)

This rant is less about wanting to enter and win the (totally awesome) Small Cool contest.  This is entirely about me dreaming of getting my 700 sq. ft. apartment beautiful enough to want to photograph and share with you.

With our current apartment, the only thing stopping me from making it "entry" material is my complete lack of motivation.  Not in decorating, but rather in the apartment itself.  Jon and I have done a wonderful job, in my opinion, of getting the apartment cozy, space-saving and art-filled.  We've upgraded necessary pieces, like our television/TV stand, mattress/bed, and coffee table.  I'm actually extremely proud of us!  But little things here and there drive me nuts, and as we're nearing the end of our lease (and most likely, time in Seattle), I have a hard time wanting to invest in fixing all of the annoyances.

Maybe it's worth it?  2 months, 5 months, 8 months more in this apartment—I would likely be a million times happier if I spent the extra money and took the extra time to put the mirror back up above the dresser, box and store all the crap we don't need sitting out, and frame the artwork I've been avoiding.  The space isn't very big; this shouldn't be a problem.  That's why small apartments are so great—you're allowed to be really choosy about what you keep and display or store.

I'm just really lazy, you guys.

But I want to get this one right.  Who knows where we'll be living next!  When April comes around, I look at the Small Cool entries and feel inspired, and the arrival of more warmth and sunlight makes the idea of a beautiful and clean apartment all the more appealing!  It's time to start tackling little things in my small space so that eventually I will feel capable of tackling large building projects and arrangements in a large space... you know, in my future 10-room mansion.

So this is my promise to you: I will get my ass up off my couch, I will clean and organize, and I will make everything presentable.  Then I will take pictures and share our little, dog-and-cat-infested apartment with the internets.

This blog isn't quite Apartment Therapy, but... it'll do for now.

Small Cool 2010: Beth from Sausalito, CA

My Old Friend, the Sun

"Sun Please Shine Again" by Jolby

I am absolutely sick-to-death of dark, wet, and cold weather.  I am pretty sure that I can count on one hand the sunny days Seattle's had in the last 5 months.  And if you're thinking Umm, HELLO!  It's Seattle—you knew it was going to be gray all the time when you chose to move there... What did you think it was gonna be like?!, this is your opportunity to just keep your thoughts to yourself.  I had no problem with the Pacific Northwest weather for the first two winters I was here... But now?  I am downright cranky, you guys, and my vitamin D pills just aren't cutting it anymore.

When I was home a month ago, my father picked me up at the airport and before heading home, we drove around town.  It was about 9 o'clock in the morning and the sun was shining so brightly, it honest-to-God shocked me.  I got out of the car in the middle of a parking lot in Livermore, held out my arms—I'm not kidding you—and just stood there, feeling the sun soak into my skin.  I was like a sun-junkie out of the movie Sunshine; totally and completely addicted to the feeling of warmth and light.

It's true that living in a place with actual seasons makes you appreciate the good weather so much more.  I admit, I never appreciated the sun when I went to school in paradise—more commonly known as UCSB—or when I was growing up in California.  I moved away from that because I really loved rain and cold weather.

But 45ºF in April is absolutely, flat-out unacceptable.

"Sunny rainy city" by Blanca Gomez

The sun is up there.  Warmth is lurking beyond this hovering gray blanket, and I am so ready for it.  I have said numerous times that summer is the reason that I stayed in Seattle as long as I have.  It really can't be beat, on many levels: it's perfectly warm, the city is bustling, everyone is happy, the parks are full of people and their dogs, everything is blooming and lush and green... I am totally in love with summer in Seattle.  It's (dare I say?) even nicer than Santa Barbara.

But after this last winter, it's officially not worth it anymore.  This winter was so bad, and for the first time, I can attribute ALL of the 'bad' to the weather.  I had never felt the effects of weather internally before, and it was a completely foreign type of depression; the way that my sadness and irritability was able to manifest itself on a physical level was pretty horrible.

I can't imagine choosing to deal with it on a regular basis...  I don't know how people in the Northwest deal with such profound heaviness for such a long period of time during the year.  Maybe it's why everyone here is a terrible driver, and why people are so damn passive aggressive—they know that they're stuck in a place with depressing weather and they want everyone else to be miserable too.

Luckily the effects of sunshine are contagious, so all I need do now is wait for it to arrive.  Forecast predicts temperatures may rise to a whopping 53ºF this weekend (I know, so hot), and the sun may actually show his face!  And in true Seattle-style, I will welcome him with the unpleasant sight of me in a skirt and halter top.  Me-ow.

To my friends in California and New York: I envy you.  I wish I was where you are.  I hope you are enjoying your stupid 72.5º weather.  I hope you are getting outside and soaking up the sun and relishing in his loveliness.  I hope you are thanking him for relieving you from a truly awful winter.

Oh, and please, tell him to come find me in Seattle.  He keeps standing me up.

"Looks Like Rain" by Eloise Renouf

One of Us Had to Be the First

Baby Henry, image credit: Cassie Rosenbrock

Two months ago, my best friend in the entire world had a baby.  I've known her since the 6th grade, and we've been best friends since we were 15.  Now, at almost 25, she's the first of any of my close friends to actually start a family.

Cassie married her high school sweetheart, Matt, when she was 20-years-old—too young to even [legally] drink at her own wedding!  We knew she'd settle down before any of us.  At 18, we used to discuss what we saw ourselves doing in the future, and even though Cassie talked about her dreams of acting and becoming a comedian, she knew that Matt would always be the most important aspect of her life; nothing else mattered if he wasn't part of it.

To my stupid, never-had-a-relationship-before brain, this sounded downright crazy-pants.

In high school (and for the first part of college) I remember being extremely ambitious.  Lazy, oh my gosh yes, but also a total dreamer with extremely lofty goals of fortune and success and notoriety as a writer or theatre director or critic... something really special.  Something that would take me to New York or Europe or (ha!) Seattle!  I thought about it, and thought about it, and thought about it, and thought about it... and thought about it, until I fell into a dark hole of thinking until I forgot what the point of it all was.  I don't mean to imply that I don't still think about these things, but when I was a teenager, it was hard to imagine wanting anything close to what my parents had: something traditional, something expected, something that focused entirely on family—not dreams.  Dreams were something you gave up in order to have a family and provide for them.  (This isn't something I was taught, mind you, it was simply how my feeble brain viewed things.)

Kim with Henry on March 5, 2011

And then my entire perspective started changing, due in large part to Cassie and Matt.  There was something about watching their relationship grow, being there to see them start their marriage, buying a house, and then start planning for (and subsequently making) a family—all while Matt goes to school for his Masters and Cassie does improv for ComedySportz San Jose—that made me think, Hey!  That doesn't seem too bad at all!

Before I go on, I have to say that I know what you're thinking, and no—I do not want marriage or babies at any point in the near future.  On the contrary; two dogs and a cat are tiring enough.  Cassie and Matt's effect on me is a little less obvious than that—gimme some credit, peeps.

Henry was born February 2nd, and it completely changed my perspective on things.  To be fair, little things have been changing me slowly over the past year, but when Henry arrived... I finally got it.

See, I've been out of college for almost three years now; I have friends graduating from Master's programs already!  The transition into "real life" has been difficult, emotional, and sometimes impossible.  Because of the challenges, I've spent two out of the last three years wishing I was somewhere (and, often, someone) I wasn't.

Maybe my recently-graduated friends can relate.  It's really frustrating to think about how carefree college was (granted, in college we thought the same thing about high school—or at least I did!), and how nice it would be to just... slow down again.  Do it all over again.  Try something different, and this time not waste the opportunity.

Making friends is hard outside of school. (This is even more so true in Seattle—the "chill" is real, people!)  Finding a job that you really love, and that fits with your ideals and expectations, seems like the most insurmountable task.  Finding love, for so many, is a constant struggle.  So many things can go terribly and horribly wrong—financially, emotionally, mentally—very, very quickly.

Simply put: growing up is flat-out-effin hard to do.

New mom Cassie

New dad Matt

This is where Cassie and Matt come in.  About a month ago I went home and met Henry (and saw my best friends as parents) for the first time.  Things were calm and normal and simple, with the addition of baby gurgles and smiles, lots of poopings and lots of feedings.  And even though I couldn't stop saying things like "He isn't real!" and "I can't believe you actually made this!" and "He was once in there!" *points to Cassie's belly*, the truth is... it wasn't weird.  Not at all.  On the contrary, it felt so totally and completely right.

I finally understand what Cassie meant when she was 18 and how—despite her own struggles and frustrations—things seemed so clear for her.  Looking at Jon's and my life with him, I feel confident in saying that he is what matters to me, and no other ambitions or dreams are worth anything if he isn't there to share them with me.  We have an extremely bright future ahead of us, with so many unknown obstacles and grand possibilities.

And I want to spend it near the people I love who are living their own futures now, and have no interest in reliving the past.  People who don't live in regret, and who are grateful for the people they love and choose to share their lives with.  People like Cassie and Matt.

Someday Henry will going off to college, and it excites me to think about where I'll be and what my life will look like when he does.

The future, all of a sudden, doesn't seem so scary anymore.

Color and Movement: Can I Frame You?

There is artwork I want to buy.  OK, there's always some artwork or something pretty that I can't wait to buy and put up on my walls.  This is why I bug Jon so often about painting things.  The only problem is that we hardly have room for the framed artwork we do have.  There can't be enough wall space, I say!

However, above our television is this open, white, sad area that's just begging for some color.  I admit, it's been extremely difficult for me to commit to putting something up there, because it has to be very specific and special.  It's our entertainment area!  It should be film-related, if possible.

On the flip-side of that, it also can't be distracting.  This is why I've nixed the idea of mini-movie posters or flashy art prints.  (We bought this print from Justin Hillgrove's 'Imps & Monsters' art collection, specifically for that space... but it's too small, it can't be paired with any other art pieces easily, and it just... doesn't feel right.) 

I always do this.  I have the hardest time committing to hanging art, because I want it to be perfect.  Trouble is, I never live anywhere long enough (or have walls strong enough) to get it right.  By the time I do, my lease is up and I'm ready to move on and up!

But I've found something, and I want your opinion on it.  I've discovered a person online who creates Movie Barcodes using the color schemes in action sequences through the film... at least, that's what I think he's doing.  Either way, I've picked several that I really like (from movies I also like) that I'm hoping I'll be able to buy as prints.  

Top to bottom: Pan's Labyrinth, Amélie, The Matrix

Maybe they're too... I don't know, confusing?  But I love the idea of bringing colors into a space, without them being distracting, and the fact that the colors are pulled directly from the films make them all the more special.

I have no idea if I'll be able to buy these as prints.  The creator has some for sale, but not all of the ones I like.  I've contacted him (or her) about the possibility of special ordering a few.  Hopefully he'll get back to me with a resounding YES! and also, DISCOUNT!

What do you think, friends?

EDIT
Description of the barcode-making process:  The artist takes the average color of each frame condensed to a one pixel column.

EDIT (again)
Heard from moviebarcode man, and apparently I can special order some prints, but HOLY CROW they're expensive!  To get three that are large enough, I'd have to spend close to $500.  Yikes!  Maybe one would be enough?  I'll have to sit on it for a bit.

This Tasty City

Jon and I will eventually leave Seattle.  This is something we knew when he moved up here last May from California to be with me.  There's no question that if I had been financially capable, I would have moved down and joined him instead of the other way around.  At the same time, I am grateful for the time we've had here.  Coming out of near-poverty and unemployment into jobs that pay us decently—at least, enough to enjoy what has turned out to be an incredibly delicious city.

Bourbon Renewal and Eggnog from Sun Liquor, Seattle

When considering where we will go after this (much of this depends on where Jon will get into grad school), it's hard to imagine any place having better drinks or food than Seattle.  Not only that, drinks and food within walking distance or nothing more than a short drive to the next district over.  If Seattle has changed us in any way, it's the fine-tuning of an (I'm embarrassed to say) elitist mentality about fresh, high-quality food and original, expertly crafted cocktails.

Living so close to places like Sun Liquor, Tavern Law/Needle & Thread, and Zig Zag Cafe (to name a few) means that for a reasonably fair price, not only can you taste original cocktails but you can help invent ones with the assistance of absolutely brilliant bartenders.

And we do invent cocktails.  Often.

Our go-to place for cocktails is Sun Liquor, down on Summit in Capitol Hill.  It's a short walking distance, and Richardo—the bartender—is an artist.  Watching him make any drink (even a simple screwdriver) is an experience.  And it isn't because he squeezes your orange juice fresh.  Rather, it's his concentration, so exact.  I've heard the same thing about world famous Seattle bartender, Murray Stinson—you can't live in Seattle and drink alcohol without knowing this man's name—and while I've been to Zig Zag a few times, I haven't had the privilege of sitting in a coveted bar seat to watch him work.  Sun Liquor can get crowded, but it's definitely a laid-back, local haunt.  Ricardo is a master of mixing himself, and if you feel inspired to try something different, tell him your favorite liquor and he'll make something special.  At Thanksgiving, he helped my family and us invent several cocktails, all sensational.

When I leave, I want to take Sun Liquor and Ricardo with me.

Thinking about leaving the food and drink options here is the only thing that gives me pause about leaving; it will be the ultimate sacrifice when taking off from here.  Jon and I see food as an adventure, and cocktails as the ultimate indulgence.

In terms of places that are an option for us (NYC- and San Francisco-proper are not, unfortunately, options), it's hard to imagine my tastebuds being happier than they have been this past year.

Infamous Coconut Creme Pie from Tom Douglas' Dahlia Bakery in Seattle

While Jon is determined to taste a bit of every restaurant that Tom Douglas has his name attached to, I'm a bit more interested in spending my summer utilizing all of the incredible markets that Seattle has to offer.  The best farmer's market (undoubtedly) is the Ballard Farmer's Market, which is every Sunday.  One of my main goals this summer, before leaving the Northwest for good, is to make as many fresh vegetable- and meat-filled dishes as humanly possible.

We've made and tried so many delicious dishes this last year.  If for no other reason, I'm sad I haven't been updating this blog so that I could tell you all about it!  Seattle food and drink establishments thrive on good recommendations, and if something doesn't come recommended here, good luck surviving.  I admit, we probably won't try someplace new unless we've heard it's something special.

So stay tuned for food and drink updates.  My tastebuds demand these things be chronicled for future reference.

My Spring Awakening

Living in Seattle as a person filled with joy rather than a person filled with sadness has proven to be the biggest shift of my entire life.  That may edge on hyperbole, but it is still something that genuinely takes my breath away every day.  It is not a “black and white” kind of difference; it isn’t about my life becoming the opposite of what it was before.  Rather, it’s that I've morphed (so to speak) into an alternate dimension version of my old self:  my dogs have grown up, my home feels like a home, my true desires are crystal clear, and for the first time, I’m happy.

Oh, and I am so incredibly, stupidly in love.

I don’t mean to get mushy on you.  My point is simply that this new life of mine has not been conducive to writing—of any kind.  This might be the one thing in my daily life that makes me sad.  No plays or stories or articles or reviews have been typed by these fingers in over a year.  I can't really figure out exactly why that is.  Perhaps it's because I finally have someone I love, and who loves me, to share exciting things with; I don’t think to run to my computer, spend hours writing a short article, just for the potential joy of someone caring enough to read a snippet of what has felt like a very ordinary life.  There is nothing "ordinary" about my life anymore, thought it may seem that way from the outside.

That being said, I wanted to return to this seemingly desolate place of past writings and rantings and infuse some happiness, hope and insight into the place.  With a little bit of dusting and a splash of color, I think this blog will be worth revisiting regularly—at least for me—like any cozy-yet-rarely-used room in your house.  Plus, this time around, I'm coming to you from a place of knowledge and experience previously foreign to me.  The combination of Seattle and the company of my boyfriend, Jon, have opened up a world of food and cocktails and walking and beautiful things that my eyes had never quite been open to.

Now I want to share it all with you.  And, until I have a workspace of my own presentable enough to photograph, just imagine that I'm writing this from here:

Image: Pretty Stuff by Patterson Maker via The Essence of the Good Life

Hopefully my home decorating projects will make it onto this blog sometime in the future, but being virtually broke and a renter doesn't leave a lot of room for the highest quality of décor.  Too many little apartment details stand out to me as being utterly frustrating to look at.  But it's getting better, slowly.

Until next time, I'm simply happy to be back.

Short Hikes: Rattlesnake Ridge

It's officially summer in Seattle. The rain and clouds and cold have receded northward to cooler climates, so now when I look up, all I see is blue. We had to wait until after the 4th of July, but it finally arrived: Warmth. The good kind of warmth that lingers in the walls, and makes a cold breeze stop you in your tracks. The kind that makes dogs pant, and means sleeping under nothing but a cool bed sheet.

This may not be the reason I moved to Seattle, but it's the reason that I stayed.

The weather this holiday weekend was depressing, and while it was entertaining to watching neighbors battle with the rain to get their mini-grills lit, I have to admit that I've been chomping at the bit to pull out my summer dresses and flip flops. It was worth the wait. To celebrate, instead of throwing on a skirt and traipsing down Broadway, Jon and I jumped in the car with the doggies in tow, and heave-hoed-it out of Seattle to tackle Rattlesnake Ridge.

Okay, it wasn't that far outside the city—just an hour east, past North Bend. This is a hike that came highly recommended from an old co-worker of mine, and I knew that when the weather was right, and we had the time, this would be our first out-of-town hike of the summer.

I've never seen the dogs so happy. As usual, Ennis rode on my lap, watching the other cars and trees whoosh by, as Jon drove us east on I-90, past Mercer Island and Issaquah... This is the furthest east I've been since moving to Seattle, so I was excited in my own right. (If coming from Seattle, get off at Exit 32, turn right, and drive 3 miles until you get to the parking lot near the lake.) While Ennis was panting with excitement, Peekay lounged in the back like the zen-dog he is—happy and contented. We were all stoked to get out of town. Cabin fever makes us all unpleasant.

Hiking is something I've always loved, and despite looking like an epileptic with anything attached to my feet (don't ever try and trick me into a pair of skis—water or otherwise), I consider myself to be well-balanced and reliable when it comes to the strength of my own legs. I'm moderately experienced as a hiker. Next to Jon, however, I look like fish attempting to climb a tightrope. He is fast and skilled, and wouldn't blink an eye in a stand-off with Half Dome. The man owns two levels of hiking boots and three sizes of backpacking gear! Needless to say, I have a lot to prove.

I was in luck. For our first time out, hiking on a wilderness trail as a couple, I managed to pick one that ensured my dignity stayed intact. Definitely easy-to-moderate, as far as hikes go, and you'll find that Rattlesnake Ridge is quite popular, and as Jon puts it, "the definition of a well-maintained trail." There is a steady incline for 2 miles, with an elevation gain of just over 1,000 feet. Depending on your speed, it'll take you around 45 minutes to an hour, each way. Absolutely perfect for those spontaneous urges to get out of the city.

Having been cooped up for what's felt like weeks, with nothing but infrequent dog park trips to sate them, Ennis and Peekay were on Cloud Nine as we winded through the trees to get to the top of the ridge. In order to mask how oh-so-much slower I walk than Jon does, I held onto Peekay's leash so he could assist in pulling me up the hill, and while I wasn't fooling anyone, it made the hike more pleasurable and less strenuous by the time we made it to the top.

If you're a runner, this is the hike for you. The incline makes you work hard, but the dense trees give you the necessary shade to keep you cool. Running makes me tired just by thinking about it, but I acknowledge that many of you out there love doing it, and may even enjoy a sweat-inducing challenge. To each their own.

Upon reaching the top, you have two options. Three options, if you're feeling hyper-active. Four options, if you're insane. Take a moment to catch a breather and enjoy the picturesque view in front of you. Give your dog some water, 'cause he deserves it by now. (There is a little stump straight ahead, past the signs, that has a jagged piece of wood sticking straight up—perfect for attaching your dog's leash to.)

1. Go right and walk .1 miles to Rattlesnake Ledge, which gives you sweeping views of the tree-covered mountains, valley and lakes below. You'll hardly believe that you're a measly 45 minutes from a sprawling city. (We did this option, 'cause we wuz tiredz.)

2. Take a left, and continue for another 2.5 miles to East Peak. Along the way, you'll get a great view of Rattlesnake Ledge and the Lake.

3. Continue past East Peak to Grand Prospect—4.3 miles from the "fork" in the trail. By now, you might as well continue through to...

Insane option 4. Snoqualmie Point and Winery—8.5 miles from where Jon and I turned around at Rattlesnake Ledge. It is recommended, if you attempt this hike, that you park one car at the end point in Snoqualmie, and then drive to the starting point at Rattlesnake Lake. This hike would be an all-day affair, totaling over 10 miles. Someday soon, Jon and I will be insane and make a day of it.

Until then, Rattlesnake Ridge Trail served to get us out of our cabin fever funk without having to miss a meal. I'm also one step closer to proving to Jon that I can be pretty and get dirty simultaneously. More importantly, it's a day later and Ennis and Peekay still haven't woken up.

An Unprecedented Heat Wave

This may seem a little over-the-top, but I would cut off my right arm for some air conditioning right now. That’s right, my writing and throwing arm. I’m serious about this, people.

I admit it: I’m a baby, a big ol’ fat one. I must have officially become a Seattleite, because I am woefully complaining about things that really aren’t that bad in the scheme of things. (Thankfully, however, I still know that Seattle traffic is about ¼ as bad as traffic in Los Angeles or the SF East Bay, so you won’t hear me whining about that anytime soon…) But it is 102° right now, with about 75% humidity, and I think I just might die. The hottest day in recorded Seattle history, and the city is not equipped to deal with extreme weather conditions, which the snow storms this winter proved.

Seattleites seem to have this strange amnesia with regards to the things they’ll need in certain weather. Every time the weather changes, people seem surprised: “Oh, look! The sun’s out! I’m going to need to buy some sunglasses!” “Oh no! Snow! I’m gonna have to buy chains!” “Wow, do you feel that? It’s really hot! Maybe I should buy a fan…?” It’s like everyone forgets what happened the year before. This is why all the fans are sold out of every store in the Downtown Seattle area because, apparently, no one ever thought they’d need to keep one around just in case.

Apparently, people are remembering that being hot and uncomfortable really frickin' sucks.

Everyone is walking around like this is the end of the world, looking grossly sweaty and lethargic. The shops and restaurants (that are lucky) have scribbled window paint that reads “COME IN! WE HAVE A/C!” The streets seem empty, and the people that dare venture out quickly hustle into their destinations, relieved to have made it inside alive. This must be what it feels like when zombies attack. Though right now, I’d welcome something devouring my brain.

My apartment is in a brick building, my windows facing east—lucky, because this means I only get morning sunshine. The 400 sq. ft. box that is my studio retains all heat, which means that if it’s 100° outside, it’s likely 95° inside. The air is stagnant, and my little tootsie-roll-like oscillating fan, placed about a foot from my face, lazily blows the sticky, hot air towards me. My body is rejecting fluids, and the world cares not.

Ennis is plotting my death as we speak. Oh, he knows the heat isn’t my fault, but being cooped up all day in an oven is, and on top of that, he isn’t allowed to come anywhere near me. He’s covered in fur! That would be like lying against a sweater! No thank you. He’s clearly hoping to be taken home by my friend Sarah, who has been coming in this week to walk him while I’m at work. She’s both my and Ennis’ personal savior. He gets out, and I get to stay in.

He has a new mom now, and she’s much more fun. This isn’t Ennis’ first experience with the heat of summer, but our camping adventures in Del Valle didn’t compare to this. At least with the dry heat of California, there’s some solace in the shade and a cool breeze every so often. But this Northwestern humidity is relentless, and there’s no way to escape. Humidity is just one of many reasons why I don't know how people could voluntarily live in the South.

Maybe the pups and I should go and sleep in the car? There’s A/C in there.

But maybe if I keep giving him ice cubes, rinsing him in a cold shower, and holding a frozen wash cloth to his hyperventilating chest, he’ll put off killing me for another time.

The Federal Mile

Yes, I recognize it's been 3 months, and no, I'm not going to fill in the gaps. It's a new beginning, a new focus, and a fresh start. No going backwards. Only forward. Changes spark a re-commitment, and I'm going to work all the harder to keep myself on track. It's mightily important, and I'm shifting gears...

So. Hello. I am now, officially, living on my own. For the first time. No roommates, no sharing, and no bedroom. :) Just a little doggie, 400 sq. ft. and a new neighborhood in Capitol Hill that is severely out of my price range.

Winter in First Hill was pretty brutal, and not particularly conducive to getting out with daily walks for Ennis. Sure, the frequent Plymouth Pillars trips tired the pup out as needed, and he's made tons of friends (and some enemies, poor Boris), but walking has always been therapeutic and meditative for me. That has been lacking, because First Hill is anything but peaceful.

He needs the walking time, but I need it more.

My current apartment building is located one block from Volunteer Park in North Capitol Hill, which is a tad bit special. The houses, it's safe to say (even in this economy) are well over $1 million mark. There's one for sale right now that looks like a Spanish villa, two blocks north, that's selling for $5.4 million. I know. The roads are flat, the grass is green, the flowers are blooming, and the rich couples bring out their designer dogs in flocks. Okay, lots of rescues too. This is Seattle, after all.

Having an expensive mini-Aussie makes me feel like I fit in somewhat, but I'm terrified to go out in my typical "scrubby" fashion, and even more terrified about forgetting a poop-bag! The last thing I need is some millionaire's wife scowling at me as she watches my lower-middle class dog pop-a-squat beneath her rose bushes, then walk away.

Oh, sweet Jesus, there might even be surveillance cameras!

My street is 10th Ave E. Walk down Prospect towards the park, and turn left on Federal. Then just keep walking. As far as you want. Ignore the BMWs, Audis, Mercedes and fancy Subarus as they pass you by, and simply enjoy the view.

The houses here are nothing if not Stately, and the flat roads and peaceful seclusion makes one feel miles away from the bustle of Broadway (which is, in fact, only 2 city blocks south). There is a community of dogs here, different from those closer to Downtown. There is a proper attitude, a polite demeanor when meeting others. The conversation is similar to other places ("What kind of dog is that?", "Sorry, he just wants to play", and "Thank you, have a good day"), but for a 23-year-old and her barky dog, there is a sense of being out of her element.

Maybe I should pick up jogging? Then I'd really fit in.

The people on Federal are young and old, but all successful and courteous. I do my best not to stand out.

I can be courteous, too.

Bloom

Bloom
—noun. 1) The flower of a plant. 2) A healthy condition; the time or period of greatest beauty. 3) The glossy, well-kept appearance of the coat of an animal.
—verb. 1) To produce or yield blossoms. 2) To flourish or thrive. 3) To be in or achieve a state of vigor.

Something changed this weekend. Perhaps it was the rain, which we haven't seen much of in the past two months. (This is Seattle, right?) Maybe it was having visitors from California. Not entirely sure. But the difficulty I've been feeling recently is slowly receding, making me less anxious and feeling less hopeless.

Spring is almost here. Buds are sprouting up everywhere, and it's been easy to forget that it's supposed to be green around here. The trees are barren, the bushes are dark and muddy. It's strange to think that in another month or so, the trees on the street will be so full that I'll hardly be able to make out the buildings.

But right now it's just some sprouts, and they sprang up virtually over night. The presence of sunshine and now the little bit of rain we're being blessed with is going to mean lots of bloomage. Color and light, rather than black dirt and wet sludge.


Tulips and daffodils seem to be the late-winter-in-Seattle flower of choice; they are outside almost every apartment building in First Hill, growing like weeds along the walkway. Perhaps it's because they can survive the freezing cold, and thrive despite constant downpour and cloud cover. Like Seattleites.

Considering it's only the first week of March, if this bit of bloomage is any sign of what's to come in April and May, our daily walks may actually got longer and more enjoyable. From what I hear, there's no place like Seattle in the spring.

Posts for these last few winter weeks have been a bit dull, and I apologize. But it's cold, people! And I'm still working for peanuts, so going places is difficult. I'm already doing my research on fantastic places for Ennis and I to go in the next few months.

Patience. The cold will end sometime.