ode to seattle

Dear Seattle,

I remember the first time I saw you. It was night, and I was at the tail-end of a 10-hour snow-capped drive from Redding, California, to my new home in Magnolia (flush with the Interbay train tracks, no less). I recall climbing the crest of a hill just past Boeing Field and I saw you. Your big buildings, your sparkly lights. I knew then and there that something special was about to happen to me. I knew I'd fall for you. I was right.

I love looking out the window from my 32nd floor office, seeing how the sun reflects or rain splashes or wind ripples off Puget Sound. It's just so beautiful - at any time of year. The orange cranes at the Port, the titanic cruise ships off Alaskan Way, the faint outline of the Olympics - they are each part of you.

I love walking the streets and seeing the people with their lattes (hot chocolates?!), keeping warm and walking busily to and fro. When I first moved here I was surprised at how much black everyone wore! Then one day, strolling from the bus to work, I caught my reflection in the Macy's Frangos window - black hat, black coat, black gloves, black pants, black shoes. I had become one of you.

I love the "little" things that make Seattle Seattle. Red Mill Burgers, Dilletante Ephemere, Specialty's cookies (day old for half price!), Piroshky at the Market, the new Olympic Sculpture Park, the bike path at Myrtle Edwards, the Nutcrackers at Christmas, the Seattle Times' Peeps competition! I fall in love with you over and over again as I discover more things! I got to see Blake Lewis (and Sir Mix-A-Lot!) at Westlake Center! I shook the hand of the architect that designed the new library, who himself shook the hand of Brad Pitt! They turned a 7-11 into a Kwik-E-Mart! I sent my parents a postcard of the Seattle skyline and circled the skyscraper I work in with thick black marker!

I love how riding the bus is an adventure. I love how following the new construction trends is intriguing. I love how the craze to be "green" has me thinking more about reusing, reducing, and recycling. I love how I can blend right in, yet feel so much a part of the action.

Just the other day, as traffic was snarling my commute to work, I was tempted to be angry. Impatient. Frustrated. Instead, I turned on my iPod (listening to Pearl Jam or Nirvana or Presidents of the United States of America, no doubt), looked out the window, and saw your skyline like I was seeing it for the first time. The sun was shining, there were boats on Lake Union, and I just smiled.

Not since I left Salisbury, Maryland, have I felt at home. I've always fantasized about being part of the "big city," and you're the perfect city for me. I'm finally home.

Here's to you, Seattle.

-Your Biggest Fan

my second profession

When I was a little girl, I was obsessed with cats. Meaning, Grandma gave me cat sweatshirts for Christmas and I was thrilled! My aunts gave me cat knick-knacks! I cherished them! They hung on a wall in a knick-knack shelf! Boy do I need a knick-knack shelf in my home! But that is not today's post.

I decided I would be one of two things when I got older. The first, a children's book author (in which I wrote titles such as "The Princess and the Kitten"), or, as my mom was rooting for, a cat psychologist. You think they don't exist? You're wrong. They're technically "behaviorists" and I am pretty sure they make quite the killing.

Although I am neither of these things professionally, I sometimes consider myself a cat psychologist. Take for example, our experience the last couple days with our 10-year-old feline companion Gabby the flabby tabby.

Let me say kindly that there is much to love of Gabby our flabby tabby -- literally. So much in fact, that last year we put her on a diet. The Vet-Man said, "feed her 1/2 cup of this food daily and she'll lost 5 pounds in 6 months." Which would be, oh, close to 25% of her body weight. If I could lose that, whoo hoo! (maybe when I'm done with this pregnancy thing I'll switch to a 1/2 cup of Gabby's food daily).

(This is what we lovingly refer to as "Gabby girth" ... it is also Shanester's favorite picture to take of her. we have hundreds of these shots!)

So, imagine my surprise, when our always-starving cat, suddenly stopped begging for food this weekend. I was astonished. I mean, she usually begs beginning around 5 am (when we sometimes get up), and DEFINITELY by 6 am (when we are always up), so on Saturday, when it was going on 9:30 am, we were sure she had passed out. (And without a meow? Mysterious.)

And, to add more intrigue, we noticed she hadn't been given her 9 pm DINNER from the night before! Dearest Gabby, where have you gone and who is this striped creature in your place?

A couple weeks ago we found she had a secret food stash (she found the "master bag" of cat food) and put the kibosh on that. The chances of that happening again were slim... and we confirmed. Not that. She ate her breakfast (which we finally gave her at 10 or something), and just meandered about her day. She didn't beg for lunch. We force fed her dinner.

So, the psychologist in me was looking for answers. Her litter box was, ahem, still being used, so no problems there. Her eyes were still healthy; her teeth clean. She didn't smell bad. But I was worried sick.

You know what I think it was? My formal diagnosis: I stepped on her paw this week, while making my way over to her cat food bowl as she was anxiously and eagerly leading the way. I think dearest kitty was in physical pain. I wonder if she got this baby sprain and lost her appetite? That's all I can think of. Whenever I try to talk to Shanester about it, he tells me to stop worrying! Is this the kind of mother I'm going to be? (Re: the worrying, not the stepping on my kids' feet.)

In the end, I'd make a crummy psychologist. She's back to begging for food, thank goodness, but for two or three days I was pretty convinced she was near death. Any more developments, I'll let you know. Hopefully an eyeball doesn't fall out in the next couple days.

I guess the world is better off that I stuck with marketing.

el presidente

So, you are reading the blog of the new official president of the SH Condominium Home Owners Association. Woo hoo! What does that mean exactly?

• Secretary was already taken
• No one else wanted to do it
• I guess I really don't know what it means.

In accordance with my new position, I have become aware of an issue on the homefront. Everyone who lives here has either a two-car tandem parking garage or two assigned parking spaces. We're very fair. You live here, you can park here. Yay. There are two visitors spaces.

The big fat new issue is people who have parking spaces -- or even garages! -- with too many cars who take it upon themselves to park their cars in the visitors spaces. I can't handle it! Are you kidding me? These spaces are for VISITORS. They are not OPEN spaces.

Let me ask you, would you go beyond propriety and park in the visitors space if you were a resident, owner, tenant? It's not very fair, now is it. When I have visitors, there's no where for them to park if Johnny who lives below me is home from work, and so is his girlfriend and their roommate or whatever and they are taking up the visitors spaces because their SUV is so huge you can't fit two cars in the garage. Not my fault. Buy a smaller car or get a bigger place.

Welcome to multi-family living.

So, had to vent. Hope all is well in your world.

let the weird cravings begin

So yes, I'm having a kid. They say pregnant ladies get weird cravings. I think my life has been pretty manageable thus far, but I can definitely pinpoint a few things I am not able to live without at the moment. These include:

• Kelloggs Strawberry Mini Wheats
• Breakfast cereal in general, actually
• Hershey's chocolate sauce... on everything
• Tums (is that a craving?)
• Dried Turkish apricots
• Bananas with peanut butter and chocolate chips

OK that is all for now. I'll add more later. But seriously, waking up in the middle of the night and wanting some breakfast cereal, any kind of breakfast cereal, is pretty funny. But it's yummy!