hold still and smile

Mike is concerned that I will one day succeed in my quest to grab hold of and then hug a ginourmous pigeon. As I have established in an earlier post, the pigeons here are huge. Chicken sized. House pet sized. Give me another piece of yo muffin or I’ll kick your ass size. They are also plentiful. I pass two or three hundred just on my way to work. The whole idea that I would actually catch a pigeon is a bit far fetched, no matter how much I threaten to do so. My ridiculous arm outstretched jog toward my feathered friends has yet to achieve the desired results. The pigeons, for their enormity, are still rather quick. Having witnessed many a failed attempt, Mike still is compelled to yell “Stop! Stop! They are dirty! Don’t touch them!’ each time I start my determined trot. I counter with my non factual and completely unscientific argument that their dirtiness is an urban legend propagated by pigeon wranglers to keep themselves in business. But he ain’t buying it.

For all you who may be gasping in HORROR, Mike is a friend from work. Out here. In Seattle. To my knowledge, he has not, nor in theory ever will:
1) Own a coffee shop with me
2) Have a job that pays him less than $25,000 a year
3) Have trouble getting his own apartment
4) Use more hair product than I do

Hee hee.

Seattle is, like, a real city. I went out until 4am and I wasn’t at someone’s house. Clubs can stay open past bar time as long they quit serving booze, which of course they don’t. They just quit serving booze in glasses. You can buy cans of Coke or Red Bull with some emptied out and the liquor of your choice making up the difference. Slick. Score 10 points for ingenuity! For those of you who know me, this next part is going to come as a bit of a shock – it was a loungy dance club kinda place! There was a fog machine and disco balls! There was throbbing techno beats and my kidneys were wondering why they were vibrating! I’m usually the kind of girl to be found drinking beer at low key neighborhood bars or the occasional rock n roll venue – so this, this slicked up stobe lit room of rumba – was new for me. I had a fabulous time though! I even DANCED. That is also new for me! I like dancing, quite frankly, I dance all the time, but it’s usually alone in my living room. Not anymore! And apparently I even have “moves” – who knew!

I was offered lip gloss. Of all the clever conversation, of all the people watching, of all the drinking and drunken debauchery, that is the one moment that stands out the most of the loungy experience. Being offered lip gloss by a total stranger. It was clearly HER lip gloss. Not hermetically sealed. Surely been used at least a dozen times. Handed over in some lip herpes sharing gesture of friendship. I had to pass, homie carries her own stash. My excuse: “I’m currently rocking Lip Smacker’s Dr. Pepper – but thanks!”

The rest of the weekend has been pretty low key. I have some work to do. Laundry, too. I went for a couple walks. I had round two of my knitting class. It’s one of those spring days where it’s hard to be inside. The weather forecast threatened thunder storms, but they have yet to materialize. They have yet to even darken the sky. It’s still crystal clear bluer than blue pretty outside.

Spring.

Zeitgeist had old Modest Mouse playing when I stumbled in there for my morning coffee.

I made spinach quiche in my fancy French pie dish that was a present from all the cool kids I use to manage back in Minneaplesauce.

I have a crush on KEXP.

Jodi is visiting next week!

I got paid on Friday. A check with taxes already taken out (!!) and that was just mine mine mine. All mine. I could buy an entire fruit stand full of heirloom oranges! I could buy a hundred pairs of cashmere underpants! I could hire someone to remove any lint that might collect on me though out the day using only the finest scotch tape!

Endless.

Possibilities.