Ode of Sorts

Oh yeah. I for sure want to live in Seattle for a coupla years, at least. Start my career, make a little bit of $$, further establish my connections and just get to know this place more intimately. The subject comes up because soon I'll be at a crossroads, deciding what to do for a living and deciding where to do it. Of course, the location may be a factor I'm forced to look past...if there's money or stability to be had, it cannot be ignored. But if it's possible then Rain City (who knows if anyone really calls it that) demands a little bit more time.

Forgetting that most barbers are closed on Sundays (and on Mondays because they are open Saturdays), I walked up to hip-ass Supreme Cutz for a much-needed, uh...cut. It's far away from the apartment so when the closed blinds came into view there was just some urge to continue the trek and make it worth my while. I ended up going all the way past Green Lake and into Greenwood; it was a pretty decent walk (wait a SECOND...MapQuest is telling me that it's only 4.33 miles! Well, those are driving directions using the more direct freeway route. I was on foot. Still...I was thinking I'd walked my ass across the state or something). Thing is, Green Lake was beautiful on a sunny Sunday with all of the runners and dogs and tennis players. Even the 70-year old, shirtless, Speedo-wearing jogger brought a smirk to my face. And Greenwood was delightful with the cheerful independent cafe waitress letting me know how good the white chocolate chip brownies are at this place and repeating my order of "12-ounce black coffee and that brownie right there" as "Sure, a Caffe Americano, no sugar in the coffee, plenty of sugar in the brownie!" And basketball was a treat because I actually went with my roommate and he brought a not-totally-serious perspective to a game we all sometimes take a little too seriously. Incidentally, Shaq is gonna destroy the Pistons and then the Heat are gonna destroy fucking Duncan, fucking Robert Horry, fucking Parker, goddamn asshole Udrih, shit who else do I hate on that team? Oh yeah, HOLY SHIT! MOTHERFUCKING BRUCE MOTHERFUCKING BOWEN! I'm surprised some crazy person hasn't tried to have his legs broken already. And no one is gonna be humiliated more than Flop King freakin' Ginobili. Goddammit. So, anyway yeah, people get all worked up sometimes about shit that really isn't that important.

And then I met some lovely young women tonight at Bradford's dinner party (note to self: go to those salsa nights this summer), so that's probably the real reason I'm in this "can't leave yet" mindset, but I just got started with this city and really there's much more to be done. So, um...maybe I'd better get that whole residency application filled out, eh?