Writer Sprout

Saturday, December 31, 2005

Wrap-up

Hectic half-week at work, just now tackling the holiday breakdown...

This trip home was different than the last. Makes sense, as the last (K's wedding) occurred just two months after the move. Still, I wasn't sure exactly what to expect. I knew it'd be fast and action-packed, I knew I'd enjoy the whole family/friends bit, but as far as my internal state, who knew what I had coming. Not me.

It was nice. I felt (mostly) relaxed, my love for Seattle was reignited, and, oh yes, I got all nostalgic. I hung out w/ the usual lineup, and although the months I've missed witnessed all sorts of change--minor and not so--the dynamic was essentially the same. This is always a relief to me.

Re: Seattle love, I don't know. This wasn't something I picked up on while home in May. Too early in, clearly. Back then, I recall being ready for my departure flight before I'd even left Sea-Tac. Ok, not exactly, but you catch my drift. I wasn't feeling the northwesterly pull. The end of this last trip, however, found me clinging to the door of Pa's Dodge, finally dragged by my feet to the Continental counter for Wednesday's redeye to Newark. Not really, but you know.

Admittedly, my reluctance was two/threefold. Not only was I unready to leave the green behind, I would be doing it solo, as Mr. Student gets the pleasure of an extended vacation. Add to that the unreasonable expectation that I'd be at work in nine hours--straight from plane to cubicle. Actually, this part wasn't so bad--so much to do, my eyes weren't the wiser. Of course, coffee deserves a nod, too.

The flight, unagreeable, (should've been) predictable. My pre-plane hope that wine downed w/ dinner would knock me into a solid four-hour sleep took a fast blow: not an empty seat in the house. I turned up in Newark at around six, then bussed to Grand Central, exiting to 50 degrees and rain. Odd that, for once, east and west coincided: I'd left the same conditions behind me just hours earlier. This was slightly disorienting, although I dare say my brain was functioning at a dangerously low level--a likely contributor.

I hopped a cab uptown, and wouldn't you know it, ended up w/ an especially impatient driver, which under ordinary circumstances would've been fine & manageable but, well, the timing was just off. I recall repeating myself several times. Not sure if I was talking too quietly or if all that was coming out of me were yips & grunts, but whatever the case, he wasn't having any of it. Throughout our poor communication, I watched the city fly by outside, and damn if the theme of my ride wasn't repetition. For all the variety this city dishes out, there's also a lot of the same old thing. I'm struck by this often. Market after market after shoe store after shoe store after Tasti after Tasti after jeweler after jeweler... block after block after block. Most evident while in a moving vehicle, it can leave a lady reeling. This lady, anyway.

Which brings me back to my love for Seattle, a city that earns its keep via a comparatively limited retail presence. Then there's clean air, blue water, visible mountain ranges, miles and miles and miles of trees... Add to that the coffee (been here nine months and can still count the number of passable coffee houses on one hand), the (mostly) affordable housing, the proximity to aforementioned family and irreplaceable friends and some of my favorite zip codes...

I love Seattle. But don't think for a moment I don't like where I'm at. I do. I really, really like New York City, evidenced in dozens of past blog posts and, ironically, for some of the same reasons that it frustrates me. Pea and I were talking about this over last night's sushi dinner, and we came to the conclusion that NYC love is fickle. Inconsistent. Seattle love is like super glue; the NYC version is like a crappy glue stick. It sticks, but never for very long. I'm continually having to re-glue, and w/ that same cheap, kid-art-project stuff. In other words, it's week-to-week. Depending on my inner state, the various & many stressors one confronts here will either excite or drain me, encourage or discourage me. Contrast, that's what it is. This city specializes in it, while Seattle maintains the middle ground, the gray in-between. Both have their upsides.

Who knows--maybe we'll be here longer than the anticipated 2-3 years. If I listen to a certain gay Haitian cab driver of a few weeks back, I have no choice. Once I hit the one-year mark, I'm a goner. A NYer for life, or so he says. Then again, he stood to gain a good deal of personal freedom, moving from his homeland to NY... Perhaps a little biased.

With that, I give you Christmas:

Beat on Xmas morning.

En route. The only picture I have w/ mother dearest. :(

Surrounded by cuteness. I got together w/ the S.H.S. crew for some good ol' fashioned slumber partying on Camano. The senior tea video re-debuted, and it was all downhill from there. Brunch the next day was at The Islander, where we were joined by two rollicking kiddos.

Ah, Noe & Dave, best chefs in all the land. Seriously. On the menu that night was fresh-caught salmon, homemade crab cakes, the tastiest scalloped potatoes my buds'll ever know, and for dessert, chocolate-mint trifle. Oh my.

My ladies, ala Champagne brunch and Barney's.

Elde Family Xmas. Cousins Ibet (Elisabeth) and Nels joined in this year's festivities.

Hmm.

My gift.

Aigners & Goldsmiths all around.

Forget the CBGB onesie; she dug the box.

The infamous Johnson Family Gift Exchange. This year's was much tamer than most, and I dare say, a little boring.

Boring, perhaps thanks to Deaner's newly installed *rules.* While necessary in preempting the insult slinging and hurt feelings of years past, they all but sucked the spirit out of the thing.

Grandma got an animated gorilla head. It was scary.

Grandma and the cousins. Her smile's a surprise, considering the incredible time it took for certain relatives to put two and two together, camera-wise.