Jonesin’ for tales of a dark, dank and cob-web rich tour of the urban underground? Curious to hear how a stroll in the International district resulted in me being labeled a “big girl” and the purchase of two retro eyeglass frames older than Steven Tyler’s cock rock hairstyle and lead singer tights? Then come with me my pretties on a journey to the sunny seascape of Seattle from whence my Ballard beau and I have just returned.

I thought I’d be singing Annie Lennox’s “Here Comes the Rain Again” while trapsing through the Emerald City but as it turns out that all that precip is just a myth…as is the widely held belief that Seattle has cornered the market on the perfect cup o’ joe. Sunny skies and icky-sicky sweet frappucinnos were there in abundance for the taking during our Left Coast jaunt. Trip highlights included:

*A pad fit for a king…or a pimp:mrgreen: Through a fortuitous twist of fate, we ended up in one of the poshest suites this side of the Ritz Carlton. Who knew Best Westerns offered such hipster elegance as a fire place, super-size, booty-ready glassed-in showers and a wrap around balcony with a mountain, oceanic view to boot? Oh, and I must not forget every man’s morning wood fantasy, a built in plasma TV with FULL cable access. Ladies, remember this if you want to hypnotize your man…all they can recall is…watching cartoons…I saw pretty pictures on the wall.

*A zen-filled tour of a real, live Japanese garden complete with giant koi schools and a meditation temple worthy of The Last Samurai.

*And speaking of fish, ge-nu-ine Northwest salmon chowder…full fat, as well as the best damn mac and cheese I’ve ever laid my tongue into (four-cheese is always a good menu descriptor!)

*And speaking of full fat, a mean, mean Chinese silk dress salesman had the gall to tell me I was a size 3 extra large…yeah, me and Anna Nicole….before TrimSpa…good for a hearty laugh!:razz:

*A tour of Seattle’s once and future underground and an up close and personal look at one of the very first “crappers.” Let’s just say Seattle had some sanitation challenges that make those of today’s New Delhi look tame by comparison! I highly recommend this tour to anyone who loves dark corners, conspiracy and the pioneer spirit. I would ban it for anyone who is even a slightly weazy asthmatic as 1907 condemned mold, mildew and freakishly large cobwebs are everywhere!

*A glorious touristy cruise of Puget Sound and Elliot Bay complete with tasty in-boat gingerale and passage through an aqautic lock! Ahoy matey!

*Finally saying “I love you”, albeit over a gruyere fondue pot:razz:

*Lolling through the new Sci-Fi museum in the EMP building. Where else can you see the Lost in Space Robot, learn all about Con fans and contemplate buying your very own Chewbaca shirt all in one afternoon?

*Seeing the groovilicious space needle up close and personal; It looks more like George Jetson’s space-craft than a 21st century office building cum knitting needle but what do I know? It’s not like I’m Santiago Calatrava.

*Sharing some nacho cheese and romantic smoochies with my baby by the Seattle Center Merry-Go-Round.

*Buying two sets of dusty eyeframes from from a giggly, middle-aged Andy Williams-loving optomistrist who informed me the glasses had been sitting in the window waiting for a buyer for the last 30 YEARS!!!

*Natives just as friendly as Leprechauns at the end of the rainbow or as the well-heeled saleswomen at Nordstrom’s.

*Finally learning courtesy of SMA (Seattle Museum of Art) that Mondrian is not an elegant furniture line (like it sounds) but a true artistic pioneer.

Now for the Lowlights:

*Losing my driver’s license right before airplane boarding…yes TSA did do a full body cavity search. What fun!

*Being called Tootsie because of poufy, curly hair…am I really that much of a frizz ball?

*The orginal Starbucks…excited as I was to take in all the hype and history, there were no T-Shirts or commenmorative plaques to be found on-site. Only a special Pike Place coffee bean blend. Yawn…

Despite these minor blips, I annoint Seattle as simply du-vine and must ask myself only one question..How long will it take me to move there? I’ve got my U-Haul, Birkenstocks and REI camelpack at the ready:lol:…and would be glad to wash fish or grease out of the clothes of my partner in crime if he ever desires to come with and stay for a spell.

Until The Space Needle and I Do Our Intergalactic Dance Again,
That Little Red Headed Girl

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Today, I muse about a surpising topic for me, the proverbial walk down the aisle. Go ahead, grab a cloth and dry your moist, sweaty palms. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I’ve abandoned my visceral hatred of those 500-pound bridal mags. Pictures of women with frosty hair, fake nails, poufy dresses, sequined tiaras and Jon Benet-like flower girls still make me 1918 flu epidemic ill. Ok, I confess to liking Tiaras, but only ones made of REAL metal and sparkly, encrusted stones.:razz:

But lately, I can’t seem to escape people who are herding themselves like stampeding buffalos to the altar. This despite complex just-in-case fleeing plans to hide out in the tropical aisles and grooms I know having phone sex with someone other than their intended DAYS before the nupituals. I digress.

Airfare to my close friends’ nupituals alone would be enough to buy that plasma TV I know someone REALLY wants. Everywhere I turn, my loved ones are stealth domestic planning: picking out new homes, just the “right” bath fixtures, and yes, yard SOD with their significant other. And alarmingly, most of these suburban gruesome twosomes have known each other for less time than those beloved Queer Eye for the Straight Guys have been on air. The potential brides-to-be obsess about co-habitating with Mr. Newbie and spend their days searching on jewlery websites building the perfect engagement ring. I ask, is the rickety economy and our jitter-filled post 9/11 world driving people to quick companionship at any cost? Has the anti-feminist backlash swung back a bitchslap too far?

Whatever happened to old-fashioned courtship where you went to the drive-in, smooched, and got cute little candy hearts for a few years before talk of getting hitched surfaced? Our world is so go, go, achieve, acheive that people have little room to just take a deep breath and savor the romantic moment they are in without bringing the question of calla lillies versus rose bud bridesmaids bouquets into play. You’d think what with all the matrimonial tafetta-buying and Pottery Barn gift registries being created that there was a war going on and men were tangibly feeling their moratality clock ever-quickening. Oh wait there is and they are.
Don’t get me wrong, if someone I love has found Mr. Right, I say bravo! But I must question, what’s the rush to make it official? If the feeling is so real, have faith that love will flourish and grow richer with the years and your shared experiences. Once the march to the altar is through, you want to be left with something real between you and your beloved; a house of mutual interest not based on wedding invite fonts and placecard paper stock.

I’m not opposed to perhaps one day tying the knot, albeit without crowds or fanfare. Marriage is a serious and sacred covenant between two people and in life I’ve learned that anything is possible and surprises are a given. For now though, I am lucky enough to share a vibrant relationship with someone who I can feverishly debate the issues of the world with over the heart shaped waffles I have cooked up and make fabulous, passionate love after the heated rhetoric froths over. We don’t need a discussion of crab grass, linoleum tile laying or stone cuts to keep our twosome fresh and alive. And that’s just the way I like it.

Signed, That Little Red Headed Girl

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