little black journal

I’ve been back in Seattle for 48 hours now and I’m already into the swing of things – waking to the sound of an alarm, putting on a coat before I leave the house, living the life of a working adult… Hawaii was a wonderful little break from reality. Trip highlights:

We checked out the Honolulu Aquarium on our second day there, which was packed with some of the most beautiful fish I’ve ever seen. My love of color was renewed after seeing swimming shades of yellow, purple, and blue in such intense, pure hues. The Moorish Idol was my favorite, with it’s delicate form and bold stripes. I left the aquarium certain that I would never again see fish like that.

I was wrong. We spent the following day snorkeling at Hanauma Bay and I was blessed with the chance to see these very same aquarium-worthy fish in their natural habitat. I flippered through the maze of coral reefs and found dozens of brightly colored, uniquely shaped fish around every corner. I came across a Moorish Idol and tried to yell “Look, look!” through my snorkel tube while frantically pointing so that anyone around me could share in my excitement. The whole experience was totally…dream-like. Incredible. Unbelievable. Indescribable.

I wanted to have at least one authentically Hawaiian meal while we were there and so we tried out “Ono Hawaiian” at the recommendation of one of our cab drivers. We ordered a couple of different combination plates and soon our table was filled with little dishes of all kinds of things I couldn’t pronounce. We munched on chicken wrapped in taro leaves, fresh salmon salsa, shredded pork in some kind of sweet/salty/savory sauce, dried beef (kind of like jerky, but more tender), coconut pudding… My only aversion was to the poi, which is made of mashed taro roots and resembles some sort of purple baby food. Very little flavor and a gritty, gooey texture. But everything else was fantastic and I left feeling very satisfied, with just enough room left in my stomach for a raspberry shaved ice for dessert.

We rented a car on our fourth day there and headed north from Honolulu. Our first stop was the Dole pineapple plantation. I never knew that pineapples grew how they did – they rest on these thin stalks and sort of hover over the leafy plants below. But as cool as seeing the pineapple plants was, the pineapple ice cream was what made the trip worth it. Sweet, tropical, creamy goodness in a waffle cone.

From the plantation, we headed to the north shore and followed the coast up from Hale’iwa to Turtle Bay, then back down the eastern side of the island. I got a glimpse of surfer-town Hawaii on the North Shore and lush, mountainous, rocky Hawaii slightly inland. Next time I’m in Hawaii, I’m renting a jeep and doing a little more exploring in the jungly hills – it seems that there are a lot of adventures to be had in there…

Other goodies? Meeting Elvis, the screaming monkey, at the Honolulu Zoo; being in buildings with roofs but no walls (this was true of restaurants, hotel lobbies, and even airport terminals); getting a brightly colored tropical flower as a garnish with every meal; 79-cent cans of strawberry-guava juice from the corner market; drinking Coronas with juicy lime slices in them at the bar on the beach of Turtle Bay; flinging open the curtains in the morning and being greeted by the sight of palm tree tops and blue ocean waters; wearing a swim suit all day long; sharing stories about traveling, marriage, and work with four other super-fun women; trying to pronounce funny street names like “Kapahula” and “Likelike” (actually pronounced “Licky-Licky” – who would have known?); savoring and soaking in sunshiny warmth…

This was a perfect getaway. I can’t wait to go back with Shane and share the wonders of Hawaii with him. I think I’d avoid Waikiki the next time around (a little crowded and “posh” for my taste), but there are four other islands calling our names. This was the view from the balcony our little hotel room – seems like another world, doesn’t it?

I can’t remember the last time I needed a vacation as badly as I do right now. Work has been intense the last few days. I must have gotten over 25 phone calls today. I sent out 57 emails and received twice that many. I crossed 8 things off my to-do list, but added 13. My project is in its final stages, which is exciting, because a real-life inhabitable building is unfolding before my eyes, but it also means that every single little (and big) issue suddenly needs immediate attention and resolution. The inspectors want things changed. The contractor wants the go-ahead to make these changes. The owner wants to stick to the original budget (not happening). Everyone wants the project to finish on time. And I want a vacation. The good news? I’m getting one. I leave on Thursday for sunny, beachy, blue-watery Hawaii. Woo-hoo! It’s a five-day getaway with four other women from my office, and I am stoked. Because of cheap airline tickets, the opportunity to split the cost of a room five ways, and an unselfish husband, I am boarding a plane in 59 hours and 40 minutes bound for far-off, 84-degree lands. After yesterday’s hail storm, nothing could sound better. Come next Monday, I will be one of the very, very few people in Seattle with a tan. I am so looking forward to stretching out on the beach with a book, my biggest concern being whether I’d rather go for a swim or take a nap. And it will be good to have some girl-time. A large part of me certainly wishes I were going with Shane (the romance of Hawaiian sunsets will be lost on me this time around), but I’m also due for a little estrogen-fest. Story-sharing, late-night giggling, a little shopping… My only concern? Five women sharing one bathroom will be interesting. Good thing I’m planning on going for that sun-kissed, breeze-blown, au natural look while I’m down there. I might even leave my blow dryer at home (gasp).

Big stuff happing in the ‘hood these days… The fun began on Tuesday at 4 am when I woke to sound of crashing and crackling. My eyes flew open and I was startled to see what looked like lightning flashing outside of our window. A storm, I thought? Couldn’t be. I stumbled out of bed, fumbled for my glasses and peered out the window just in time to see another intense flash of light – in the midst of a pitch black neighborhood. Power was out for as far as I could see. I tried to wake Shane, who seemed to be much more concerned about sleeping than he was about the crisis that was throwing me into a panic. Everything was suddenly eerily silent. So I got back into bed, perplexed and unnerved, but helpless. The sound of fire trucks just a couple of minutes later drew me to the front of house, where I quickly understood the cause of the crashing and flashing. A power pole was laying in the middle of the street, in the midst of a mess of smoking wires. Our neighbors lined the sidewalk, shivering in their pajamas. Shane assured me that the fire department had it under control (“Kelly, I’m so tired, just come back to bed!”), but being the busy-body that I am, I had to go out and get the details. Turns out a car had come down the hill too quickly, lost control, and crashed right into the power pole. Crazy. I went back inside and attempted to go back to sleep, but that seemed to be a lost cause. I laid there for over an hour, worrying about all the food in our fridge that would spoil if we didn’t regain power soon. And how would I blow dry my hair in the morning? And how much battery power did my cell phone have left? I should have recharged it the night before. It’s embarrassing how neurotic I can be when I’m tired and it’s the middle of night… Nearly 30 hours later, power was fully restored. Thank God. I just enjoyed a hot shower and am contentedly sipping my night time tea, made with water quickly heated in our fully functional microwave. Dinner by candlelight and the absence of electronic distractions was nice for a night, but the novelty of it wore off when we woke to an unheated house and 40 degree temps outside. It’s nice to be warm and in a well-lit room, with the internet at my fingertips as I type on my plugged-in laptop (my battery is dead). Part of me is ashamed of my dependence on electricity and all the modern comforts that are associated with it, part of me is just glad this “crisis” has been averted.

The teaser of a sunshiny day that we had yesterday has been followed by a cool, gray day today, and so I am foregoing an afternoon at Seward Park for an afternoon in a previously unexplored cafe. And I might just have found my new favorite hangout – All City Coffee in Georgetown is sweeeet. Natural light floods in through the big storefront windows and reflects off the crisp white walls and rough concrete floors. A lazy dog lays by the door, occasionally lifting his head when a person enters. One woman sits at a table sketching in her notebook, a couple of people are tuned into their laptops, several others are intently reading books and newspapers, two women next to me are knitting some fantastically colorful scarves. There is a very hip-intellectual vibe in here (and whether I fit into that or not, I am still very comfortable sitting here with my latte and my chocolate biscotti). I don’t know why I don’t make it over to this neighborhood more often – it’s only 2 miles from our house and filled with gems: beautiful old brick warehouses (some of which I hope will remain intact through Georgetown’s “revitalization“), industrial yards filled with all kinds of wonderful rusted-out junk, and a few trendy-but-not-overdone eateries and boutiques. It will be interesting to watch this place change over the next few years – I certainly hope it is able to retain some of its original character. This cafe was a good, good find (gray skies actually worked out pretty well for me today).

For the first time in months, I opened all the windows today and enjoyed the feeling of a fresh breeze flowing throughout the house. Heaven! The joys of spring can officially begin: walks along the lake after work, barbecues in the backyard, tending to my new little herb garden… Days like today make the months of gray drizzle all worth it. I hate to let my mood be dictated by the weather, but my God, this sunshine is making my happy! Is there such a thing as a Vitamin D high?

I think Spring is nearly upon us, as evidenced by the cherry blossoms that are in bloom throughout Seattle. We took a nice stroll through the UW campus with my parents yesterday to admire the flowers as set against the beautiful brick facades of the old buildings there. The sun was shining, people were lounging on the grass, the sky was blue. And then… it started to rain, and gray skies ultimately prevailed. But at least we had a glimpse of what’s to come, hopefully in the near future.

For me, an ideal afternoon is one spent in a cozy cafe, sipping a latte and reading or writing or sketching. This pleasure harks back to my time in Paris, where I found that cafe-hopping is a reasonably affordable way to really experience the vibe of a street or neighborhood (I couldn’t afford to eat out very often, but for the bargain price of 2 euros, I could get a cup of espresso and a chance to sit and soak in a cafe’s ambiance for a couple of hours). And so when I moved to Seattle, coffee capitol, USA, I immediately started asking around about where to find the city’s best cafes. I was living in Capitol Hill at the time and frequented Bauhaus, Espresso Vivace, Cafe Vita, and Joe Bar. Then I did a bad thing. I started taking all this urban, espresso-filled goodness for granted. I started filling up my Saturday and Sunday afternoons with errands and house-cleaning and tv-watching and naps. But I’m back on the wagon and am sitting in Stumptown Coffee on Pine Street as I type. And I like it. It’s nice here – warmly lit with comfy seating and clean, modern decor. Fellow Seattle-ites: any suggestions on where to spend next Sunday afternoon?

The beauty of God’s creation astounds me sometimes. I was ecstatic to wake up to a sunshiny day this morning and so I jetted straight over to Seward Park for a jog. Is it really possible that we live just two miles away from all this? Glistening water, dense green forests, a view of snow-capped mountains in the distance, and lots of happy, happy people. Nothing unites Seattle-ites like a little sunshine. I saw 70-year-old couples strolling hand-in-hand, young families playing on the beach, people walking their dogs, people pushing strollers, people riding bikes… I even saw a couple of elderly gentlemen sweeping for valuables together along one of the trails with their matching metal detectors. And everyone was smiling, basking in the beauty around them (a stark contrast to way that people tend to retreat into themselves on rainy and windy days, putting their heads down and just focusing on getting from point A to B as quickly as possible). What a glorious day… Spring is so close I can smell it.

To counter-balance my Debbie-Downer post the other night about how much the weather sucks, I want to throw a little positivity Seattle’s way…

Went to “First Thursday” a few nights ago with a couple of girlfriends and had a fantastic time – the first Thursday of the month, the local art galleries stay open late and offer food and wine to celebrate the opening of new artist exhibitions. Started at Punch Gallery and admired the blobbish-but-intricate balance of Jen Erickson’s painting. From there, we wandered around the corner to what looked like just a small corridor lined with paintings. Turns out we had found our way into the TK Artist Lofts: a maze of artists’ studios and galleries. We went from room to room, each of them filled with all kinds of creative goodness: sketches, photos, paintings, sculptures. Yum. I went home that night giddy with inspiration. Not sure yet what to do with that inspiration, but for now I’m content to rest in the budding awesome-ness of Seattle’s local art scene.

Cool Seattle experience #2 came in the form of a super-good breakfast with Shane yesterday morning at Both Ways Cafe near Seward Park. A quick search on Yelp for breakfast places near our house led us to this gem in the midst of an otherwise quiet neighborhood. We grabbed one of only 6 or 7 tables in the cozy dining area and chowed down on eggs and biscuits that tasted wonderfully homemade – I kept peeking back towards the kitchen, wanting to confirm my expectation that some cute little old lady was back there in an apron with chickens all over it, lovingly forming each piece of biscuit dough. I saw no such thing, but was impressed with the friendliness of the hip young waitstaff, nonetheless. Once again, South Seattle proves that it rocks!

I anxiously await the dawn of summertime, but I’m also realizing there is still much wintertime fun to be had. And so I will stop my whining.

Tonight was the night of the Ryan Adams concert at the Paramount (wanted to jot down my thoughts while I’m still on this post-concert high). I knew the show was going to be good when Ryan lit a cigarette and sat down at the piano to play “Rescue Blues”. But I had no idea it was going to be sooooo good. Whenever Shane and I are in the car and Led Zeppelin comes on the radio, Shane starts drumming on the steering wheel and says that he can “feel the music in his bones”. I usually just laugh at him for being silly, but when Ryan busted out the harmonica for “Oh My Sweet Carolina”, I knew exactly what Shane was talking about. I felt the music in my bones, my gut, my head, everywhere. Sooooo good. There were several times during the night where I caught myself grinning stupidly (the sure sign of a good show). And I hate to be one of those people that goes “Woooo!!!” at the beginning of every song, but tonight I just couldn’t help myself… It’s rare that I sit down and just listen to music; music is something I listen to while I’m cleaning the house or reading on the bus.  It was such a treat tonight to sit back for 2 1/2 hours and do nothing but soak up the songs. The concert was a reminder that listening to music can be an action in and of itself – I should pop in an album once in awhile and commit to doing nothing but closing my eyes and opening my ears.