On Broadway

One of Capitol Hill’s best-loved thoroughfares is a street called, Broadway. A sure-fire winner if you like people watching, Broadway is full of life and eccentricities. There are actually 8 dance-step sculptures made out of bronze that are embedded in the walkways. The steps are the work of artist Jack Mackie. In 1989 the city tore up the sidewalks on Broadway to put overhead wires underground and at that time Mackie proposed a public art installation of dance steps to highlight the organic and spontaneous choreography of people that shift and move together as they pass each other everyday. Apparently this proposal generated quite a bit of controversy (see this article).
Mallar and I rather enjoy stopping every once and awhile to dance like dorks. Anna partook in the Lindy Hop last night. What a champ!

Poppy

We had a wonderful dinner date with our first visitor last night. We took the lovely Miss Anna (who just happened to be in town for business) to a new restaurant called Poppy. Poppy’s specialty is the “thali” –which is basically a large platter with a lot of little dishes of awesome. The platter last night included: Carrot soup with star anise and cinnamon, shrimp, endive and grapefruit salad, four-seed chickpea salad, black cod with beet wasabi sauce and burdock, berkshire pork ribs with pear, parsnip and sunchoke, yukon gold potatoes and cashews with clove and cardamom, yam and sesame fritter, cauliflower gratin, fennel pickle and nigella naan. We also decided to get the wine thali and dessert thali. It was delicious and the company was delightful.

Six Arms Pub

Last night we grabbed a casual meal at the Six Arms Pub (still in Capitol Hill but just at the border of downtown). The Six Arms is a great space, with an eclectic sense of decor and a solid list of home-brewed ales. Apparently they make over 200 different ales per year. Of last night’s trials we liked the India Pale Ale the best. They are also known for their raspberry tinged, Ruby -which I have yet to taste. We had quesadillas and chicken wings with our beer. I probably should have known better than to order wings. Having been spoiled with Buffalo/Niagara style wings my whole life, wings elsewhere never seem to measure up to my expectations. I guess I am a bit of a chicken wing snob. If one can be a "snob" about bar food, that is...

Coming together

The apartment is slowly becoming a home. Yesterday’s domestic orgy involved a “triple play” package of: home Internet, a land phone line and cable TV. Having been away from juicy American cable for so long, it is a bit of an adjustment to re-orient myself to all the bells and whistles. As I was scanning the seemingly endless option of channels (and in high definition, to boot), my mind felt like it might explode from over-stimulation. It’s a little out of control...

The open kitchen/dining area (seen above) is shaping up to be the nicest feature of the whole apartment. I look forward to entertaining in this space –and have been thinking we should join a dinner club in Seattle (as there certainly seem to be a lot of foodies in the city).

Still unpacking...

City exploration has been deferred for the short term as I have been anxious to finally finish unpacking. I am in full “squirrel mode” right now as I try to stash our stuff in all the right places. It’s fun to see all the books and CDs that we haven’t seen in the year and a half we were in Denmark. There is so much to rediscover. Makes the unpacking take two times as long as I “um” and “ah” over the long lost treasures. On the other hand, having lived for a stretch of time with a minimum of “things”, one realizes that paring down one’s possessions is also somewhat liberating: less to store, less to clean, less to worry about in general -it is a healthy exercise to go through as a packrat. I have had a tendency to keep just about everything, as a teacher especially, but even growing up. I think I was the only student in my elementary school classroom allowed more than one desk. I don’t know what grade that was, but I definitely remember having two desks at one point. It is a rather chronic condition. But honestly, you just never know when you are going to need that note, newspaper article or photo, that cute little storage box, yet another allen key or a jump rope, the Jackson 5 Christmas album (on cassette) –what a classic!, the fedora I affectionately call my pimp hat, the mason jar of cable adapters, the jingly belly scarf in bright turquoise and the promotional keychains from god knows what conference. Right?

Obama-mania

My neighborhood is blue. Blue, blue, blue. I think the stats show that over 95% of Capitol Hill voters chose Obama. People here happily show their love with Obama posters, flags, murals, t-shirts, etc. The pic above is someone’s garage door a few blocks away. There were inauguration viewing events everywhere. I watched the inauguration at the Canterbury Ale and Eats pub 1 block away. It was great to be with a community of people so excited to cheer on the new President. It was around 8:30 in the morning when the show got going on this coast but the locals were out and even drinking (mostly mimosas and Bloody Marys) and free flowing with the Bush and Cheney heckles. I have got to say that Cheney looks more and more like an evil henchman –especially in the wheelchair for some reason. The whole thing was emotional. Tears were flowing here and there. I loved that Aretha sang and thought it hilarious that John Williams composed a special piece (so fitting from the guy who gave us themes for Indiana Jones, Star Wars and Superman –lol). But, I guess, Obama is the epic –superhero- icon of all icons these days.

Consumer Nausea

In a hurry to get ourselves properly set up for living, Mallar and I have been on a shopping binge. From Macy’s to Best Buy to Bed, Bath and Beyond and even IKEA –a store Mallar had resolved not to ever have to return to –we were loading up on all the missing pieces. It was rather nauseating to consume so much all at once -the packaging alone probably cleared a small forest. Recycling is actually giving us a workout these days. It had to be done at some point, though. Thankfully, the attending sales people were all super nice. Unsolicited, we got given everything from extra savings coupons to restaurant recommendations. Clearly, Toto, we are not in Aarhus, anymore. Service here is with a smile.

Watch your step

Not long after the relaxing spa was the big day of deliveries. In the same morning we had all our belongings from Montreal storage delivered (over 40 boxes plus furniture) and a new Queen sized bed from Macy’s. Both went pretty well considering, except that about 5 boxes into the delivery, one of the movers had to go and step in dog shit –and not old crusty dried or frozen dog shit, but new and juicy dog doo. Because he was in the process of carting and carrying boxes, he didn’t realize this until he had already trampled hunks of it up the front steps and into the apartment foyer. I spent a good chunk of my morning cleaning up with buckets of warm soapy water and half a roll of paper towel, worrying about the impression I was leaving with my new neighbours.

Spaaaa –yeah...

The short-term antidote to my exam hangover was a morning in a hotel room watching ridiculous Golden Globe red carpet coverage with Ryan Seacrest –deliciously mindless, eye candy (not Seacrest but the parade of celebs). I had forgotten about the blue magic wand that is now employed to underscore the fashion dos and don’ts of colour, couture and accoutrements -so very amusing in its ridiculousness.
The more anticipated remedy to my post-exam crash, however, was a 90-minute treatment at a Vida spa. I kinda sorta have the most awesome manfriend around and he booked me for a massage and detox steam treatment. The treatments have fancier names that involve chakras and doshas and I don’t know what else but the important thing is that they feel sooo good. I was escorted (in my cushy robe) into a cozy little den with fireplace and magazines, I filled out a form (that was a little weird) to help the staff figure out what herbs and essences to use based on my “dosha”. Apparently, because I have a healthy appetite, remember my dreams in colour and am thirsty a lot (among other random things) I am a “pitta”. This means I got “essenced” with peppermint, fennel and juniper berries. The massage was first –very relaxing and oily (a good oily). Then I was put into this steam cooker type thing with my head sticking out like one of those magician’s assistants that is about to be sawed in half. It sounds a lot more macabre than it was. The herbs were steamed into this wood chamber encasing my body and this is when the toxins were released through my sweat –or something like that. The next part involved getting back on the massage table to be sprinkled with flour (yes, flour!) and brushed lightly with a bristle brush to absorb remaining oils and exfoliate. I was spared the rotisserie, thankfully but I probably smelled good enough to eat.

The exam race.

In addition to moving across an ocean, then across a continent (accompanied by all the aggravating storage and shipping issues), the Christmas shopping and the 3-city visiting tour, I also had two exam papers to write. I was without resources (and time) over the holidays and so resigned myself to the not-so-ideal situation of writing the papers in the first week of my arrival in Seattle. This proved to be an enormous challenge. Without Internet at home, furniture to sit on, Mallar’s luggage (held up in Vancouver and containing articles I needed), and with renovations still happening in the apartment (the washing machine leaked all over the floor on Day 3), I was struggling to get my work done at a local café. While the café was wonderful and I had many great lattes while there, it was not always a setting conducive to writing about women, ethnic minorities and category politics in France. In the end, we moved into a hotel for 4 nights so I could sprawl out my papers, have consistent Internet access and sleep in a proper bed.

The neighborhood of awesome.

While the interior of our apartment was stressing me out a little, the neighborhood felt right immediately. We live in Capitol Hill, described by Lonely Planet as, “probably Seattle’s most diverse and lively neighborhood because of its distinctly edgy personality”. There are great coffee houses, restaurants and an already favorite pub just 1 block away, and just to the east of us are beautiful old mansions along tree-lined streets and just to the west of us is Broadway, a sassy-flavored street lined with cheap ethnic restaurants, bookstores, record shops and eccentricities of every sort.
Another neighborhood perk: on a clear day, you can see snow capped mountains to the east and to the west. Amazing...

Welcome to your new... mess.

The apartment was not ready for us when we arrived late at night after our crazy air travel adventures. Apparently the landlords fell behind their renovation targets when Seattle was hit with a snowstorm in December, making it hard for them to get to the apt. building from their home outside the city center. They had given us some forewarning but I hadn’t anticipated arriving to such a mess. There seemed to be junk everywhere I turned. It made the apartment seem smaller than I had imagined it and the mess was making me tired just by looking at it. The landlords were working away when we arrived which made the first tour rather awkward. We slept that night on an air mattress in a much less cluttered room but there was sawdust and plaster dust everywhere. It was a not so lovely introduction to what would be our new home.

Getting here

So first things first -the dramatic arrival. Getting to Seattle proved to be a rather crazy adventure. My boyfriend, Mallar and I were flying out of two different cities because of weird complications of weather (freezing rain) and car rentals over the Christmas holidays. I flew out of Montreal and then rendez-voused with him in Toronto, to fly out together to Seattle via Vancouver. On the T.O. -Vancouver leg Mallar upgraded our seats to first class. That was amazing. We sat in these deluxe (and futuristic-looking) pods with fully adjustable seats, personal screens and wonderfully attentive food and beverage service (complete with real silverware). It was such a treat -even though I took advantage of the time and set up to do exam reading.
The smooth sailing ended, however, when we got off that flight. U.S. Customs was a nightmare. Being suspicious of my one way ticket, I got sent to the back room to talk to an agent and even though Mallar had all his paperwork in order to pick up his working visa, he got held up to. I managed to get the green light sooner than he and proceeded through to the gate. I waited in hand-wringing anxiety for Mallar at the gate until I had to board the plane -alone. I wasn't sure what was going on with him, if he would be denied the visa or worse denied entry and I would fly into Seattle alone. Neither of us had cell phones at this point, I had never been to Seattle, we were moving into a new apartment and while I had the address, I had no contact numbers for the landlords from whom we were to pick up our keys. I sat on the plane fretting and growing more worried for Mallar, the doors closed, stewardesses began and finished their spiel and I had totally given up hope about a last-minute boarding. My eyes began to well up (it had been a long, long day full of stress). But! -in total Hollywood fashion, however -and to my total amazement, Mallar somehow was let on the plane. He came striding down the aisle towards me, sweaty and out of breath. Apparently he was finally let through customs and thanks only to the amazing assistance of the Air Canada agents who literally ran across the airport with him, carrying some of his luggage and calling ahead to other AC agents to hold the plane, he made it on. We sat together and then I cried some more out of happiness and relief. It was a fabulously cheesy moment. In the end we made our entry into Seattle together. Happy, happy, happy.