Happy New Year’s Eve Eve.
In a most gracious moment, the Big Man at work granted us leave for the afternoon at 1:00 (please note the time stamp 3:07 PM and me still at my desk), the catch being we had to use vacation time. What a guy! Generous to the max. I’m still sitting here for the same reason I was still sitting in Queen Anne on Christmas Day – I have not yet fulfilled six months of service and therefore am still on “probation”. Which has a kind of illicit feel to it. It’ll be February before I get parole.
Continue reading with the power out
Today my Tourist visa expires. I’ve had six months to gawk at the beauty of the landscape and to not know where I’m going and that grace period ends today. This morning at the bus stop I had to pretend I was squinting down E. John St. in search of the 43, and not gazing lovingly at the Space Needle and mountains as usual.
Continue reading take your hour of sunlight; we’ve got the space needle
And then it ended, not with a whimper, but a bang. And suddenly all the words that have been stuck inside my head, my shoulders knees and toes, my thoughts, fingertips, dreams – all of them come pouring out, and I’m at the bus stop writing madly in a tiny spiral bound notebook that I fear will run out of paper before I can get all this down, and then I’m on the bus, pen moving furiously, hands covered in ink not leaving sentences long enough to dry, facing motion sickness in the name of art – so brave of me.
Continue reading with or without
So this is Christmas. Eve. I’m in Queen Anne, the buttercreme royale neighborhood of Seattle, and the fog has cleared enough for me to see the pines at the edge of the yard. Beyond that is nothing but heavy, milky air. It’s a white Christmas after all.
Continue reading have yourself a metropolitan christmas
I know I’m procrastinating when I feel an overwhemlming desire to do dishes or I start messing with my stylesheets to the point of having to research code. So I’ve put down both the sponge and the Webmonkey long enough to come here and write. Though please take a moment to scroll over some links like this one and witness some pure HTML wizardry.
Continue reading perfect from now on
Yee haw! One helluva Sunday. The mountains are never this clear.
New G A L L E R Y update!
I’ll just get it out of my system now and move on. Nevadelia Lotus Blossom is THE CUTEST cat EVER. Seriously. I’m not even kidding. She’s half siamese so her eyes kind of wobble and cross a little when she looks at you too closely. She is named in part after a David Garza song, “Neva”, about a cat who lives on a pecan farm. She can leap three feet up onto the back of the easy chair with the grace of a gazelle. She has also taken over Kobie’s corner and pooped in his sandbox. She has to be on the highest point in the bed at all times, be a super-lofty pillow, a hip, or a head. She can meow in seven languages, including cricket. She and The Boy practice looking cute when I’m not around.
Okay — I’m done.