Silence of the Shovels

An unplowed street in Ballard.

 


















When I decided to make the move to Seattle, I heard the same response over and over again:
 
"I hope you like the rain."
 
"Better bring an umbrella."
 
"Hope you don't rust."
 
I took this all in stride. It's not like Massachusetts is known for its mild, temperate climate. Nor is it a tropical destination. I comforted myself with the fact that for ONCE in my life, I would not have to deal with the snow. There would be no waking up early to shovel out my car, de-ice my locks, and let her warm up for a good 20 minutes before I had to grind her out of the driveway to get to work.
 
My Passat was a case study in itself. The mysterious leak that often left large puddles of acid rain on the floors of my backseat, also served to ice up the interior of my windshield on cold New England winter mornings. I am sure that the chloride inhalation that occurred in the winter of 2004 still has an impact on my ability to adhere to a schedule and articulate cohesive sentences. Spraying de-icer on the interior of the whiny, old VW was a daily habit, and the Passat did not like to defrost. Not one bit. I remember driving it in to the dealer when it came time to trade it in. As I peered through the tiny viewfinder that I had created in my windshield, I crossed my fingers that it would have any trade-in value at all. But I digress.
 
So here I am during my first winter in Seattle. And guess what? True to form (and by form I mean the Jamie luck), Seattle has experienced record snowfall. Fortunately, I am an old pro. Bunker down with people you like? Check. Wait in line at the grocery for a good half-an-hour, while fighting off crowds for the last bag of Tostitos? Check. Ample beer supply? Check. Inflatable inner tube to test out Seattle's hilly terrain? Check.
 
What I was not prepared for, however, was the unpreparedness of the good people of Seattle. When you are not used to snow, you are not prepared for snow. Makes sense, I guess. During the height of the storm, I stood on the front porch and heard nothing. No plows. No salt trucks. No shovels. No cars in the road.
 
Streets remained closed, including the cross-street that leads to my house. Cars skid across intersections like chubby children wobbly on ice skates. Public transit has come to a halt. I haven't gone to work in almost a WEEK.
 
While this is all very new to me, and quite shocking (I'm well aware that New Bedford has over a foot of snow on the ground right now and it is business as usual), it is also kind of nice. It reminds me of winters spent as a child. Worry-free.
 
We are supposed to get hit with another storm on Christmas. I have to say I am looking forward to it. Fuck the umbrella. I should have brought a shovel.

Halloween 2008: Baby Hands, Needles, and Feathers

Mrs. Mia Wallace and a shedding flamingo.

Two Mias and one Vincent Vega.

"And I'm DUH-NEESE"

Duh-neese, Mia, and flamingo at the George to cap off the infamous evening.

Broken Promises

Opening night at the George and Dragon.

I promised I would never start a blog entry with "Sorry it's been so long since my last entry...", so I won't.

The truth is, in a city that is known for being one of the hardest places to make real true friends, my experience has been quite the opposite.

The girls have kept me busy with happy hours, weekend breakfasts, superfluous shopping trips, and weeknight slumber parties. And oh yah, the job has kept me pretty damn busy too. And frankly, after being glued to a computer all day at Microsoft, the last thing I want to do when I get home is even look at my laptop (unless of course it's Facebook related).

My weekdays follow the same rigid schedule. Get up for work at 6:30. Take the 15 to Downtown Seattle. Avoid making eye contact with crazies in the Ride Free zone on 1st Ave. Walk up to 4th Ave. Hop on the 545 Express to Redmond. Work work work. Repeat commute in reverse order. Although it sounds mundane, each day in the studio is unique and refreshing. I am certainly learning quite a bit here, and my co-workers are brilliant, diverse, and a really rad group of folks who make lunchtime stimulating.

I'll occasionally meet one of the girls (Kim, Susannah) downtown and hitch a ride home, albeit after a few cocktails at happy hour.

Weekends have been filled with lots of big city fun. The easy access to organic and locally grown food has scratched my itch to cook for people, and the sports package included in my cable has given me my Pats fix. I can't say I have anything to complain about.

And oh yah, Obama won. Which in turn, means we won. How could I ask for anything more?

Their Shoes Really Do Fly Off (Or Car 1, Pedestrian 0)

So it is the end of week one in my new fair city, and it's been a busy one at that. My new apartment is beautiful. Situated on a hill on the outskirts of Queen Anne, it overlooks the Fishermen's Terminal (a la Deadliest Catch), and offers a stunning view of Magnolia. Lots of natural light pours through my windows, which is a lifesaver as far as utilities go.

My Dad was able to stay for a couple of days. I think I saw more of Seattle in the one day we did sightseeing, than I have in the last 10 years of visits and short term stays. I did fold and make a return to Safeco for a Mariners v. Angels game. $7 bought us some cheap seats, but the sad ballpark attendance of about 20,000 allowed us to get close to the action along the third baseline. I did, however, celebrate my own "opening night" with the girls at the George and Dragon. Susannah promised to send a pic (my camera still has not made the journey, hence the shitty cell phone picture collage). We met some friends from - wait for it - Massachusetts and hung out with them all night. Of course.

Most of my time is spent unpacking, organizing, and putting air in the inflatable mattress that has become my bed. I am living a minimalist lifestyle, for sure. In the short week that I have been here, I have managed to secure a job with one of the most desirable companies to work for in these here United States - Microsoft. I start Monday, and am very grateful that in this shitty economic downturn, I have scored a sweet, well-paying gig.

Seattle has been treating me well so far. I walk to Pike Place Market to buy fresh cheese and flowers. I frequent Daiso for $1.50 Japanese household items, and I have begun to master the bus routes. Downsides? In a city full of liberal hippies, the smells on the bus can be a bit - well a lot - much. And today, just a couple of hours ago, I saw a pedestrian get plowed by an SUV on Pine St. downtown. Well, I saw the aftermath of it anyway. And I can tell ya, her shoes definitely flew off.

Be afraid of not changing.

I am sitting at a Starbucks in Chicago's massive O'Hare airport, trying to make the best of a three hour layover. It is well-known that I have not had the best history with air travel, and the fact that everything has gone so smoothly thus far (having even arrived 30 minutes earlier than our scheduled arrival time), worries me.

I got to spend some final moments with some of my nearests and dearests last evening. I still don't think the magnitude of this journey has hit me yet. I am leaving my whole life behind - everyone I have ever known, every spot I have ever loved, a large network of friends and family that make up my support system. My security blanket.

Allison gave me a beautiful card last night. It said Don't be afraid of change. Be afraid of not changing. And I think that fear is the stimulus behind this move. I am afraid of not changing. Of standing still. Of never knowing what my life could have been like. And although I don't fear falling on my face or failing at this endeavor, I do fear the bitter person that I would have become had I not given it a shot.

Being in the air gives everyone perspective. The plane approaches land. The passengers gaze with glazed eyes through the plane's small windows. Perhaps this moment is overwhelming for some; perhaps it offers some a sensation of hope. Over Lake Michigan, I thought about new beginnings and reinvention. As we passed over the still water, appearing tepid and bumpy from above, I stared at the approaching land, determined to allow this experience to fully embrace me - to let go of the past and jump right in. It's too late to turn back now.

I like boats. And views of boats.

So this is the place I will be calling home. Aptly named "The Nicholas Apartments" (grrrrr....), they are located in the Queen Anne district of Seattle and offer views of the ship canal. You can take the girl out of New Bedford, but you can't take New Bedford out of the girl. Haha.

Introducing...

 







So I have caved, and have decided to blog. Welcome to 2001 Jamie. I will be keeping all of you updates on life, love, and leisure as it finds me in Seattle. And hopefully they all will. Maybe not in that particular order.

Anyway....... I only have like two friends in Seattle. So keep me company on the web, my east coast family { abc * bbd........}

Oh and the photo? That is Kim and I on our way to Bainbridge Island while I was visiting her over the summer. Seattle has the largest commuter ferry system in the nation. Visit me and maybe we can visit our neighbors to the north, ay?