Look! Here’s some food! I eat out from time to time where wonderful things get delivered to my table like these short ribs at Toulouse Petit. That’s right, a blatant beefcake shot (much like a cheesecake shot, but no cheese and no cake). Happy little chives too. Personally, I enjoy when the lens begins to fog over from all the steamy heat rising off the plate- it’s telling me to hurry up and get back to it already. This was back in May, but I’m just now getting around to filing a backlog of images away for the keeping. ♦
Two nights ago I had to complete the ornery task of moving all the balcony furniture inside to the Blue room due to a floor coating being applied by the apartment complex at some point in the next two weeks. None too thrilled to have furniture in a heap where it doesn’t belong (insert Joe Pesci curmudgeoning here). Fine were it a one-off event- maintenance, upkeep, and all that, BUT. This is the fourthish notice in recent weeks, and I just get everything back in place in time for a new notice for yet another task they wanna complete on the balconies. Yay! A game I don’t wanna play. I called and left them an earful about transparent scheduling, proper heads up, an overall plan of disclosure, due notice, operating in a one fell swoop kinda deal versus a nickel and diming tactic, etc. I’m sure it was as lovely to listen to as it is to read.
This time though, every single itty bitty thing had to be removed from the balcony floor making it the straw that broke the camel’s back, the piece that tumbled the mighty Jenga tower. In so doing, I managed to unearth a small hive nested away in one of my fabric drapings (I’m Bohemian chic like that.) I heard the tearing of what must’ve been the exterior hive layers, as I saw pieces strewn about on the ground and some still attached to the fabric. The comb stayed firmly adhered to the cloth, exposed and abandoned. This must surely explain the myriad of dead bees I’ve encountered in my home since last summer. Random placement too, not along the oft typical window sill. Groggily making my way to the ever royal commode in the morning only to be greeted with a lone dead bee at its base. Step lightly. They’ve been here, they’ve been there, making me wonder, hey, you got a message for me, God? Bees- why they gotta be dead? Not only struggling out in the world, listed as endangered, but right here in my own home? Coincidentally, a friend sent me a letter recently with the verse “Pleasant words are a honeycomb, sweet to the soul and healing to the bones.” -Proverbs 16:24.
Went to the EMP Museum last week with Bean and sweet Edie (Bobby-Do!), where I finally got to see the Captain Kirk, I mean, Star Trek exhibit. All sorts of wonderful and varied exhibitions there currently! On the way, I encountered giant nannas dangling from a tree. Seemed profound in the moment.
I LOVE Lucy.
Of all the props, set pieces, and costumes experienced at the Star Trek exhibit, this portion was what set me over into welled tears (crying again, woman, sheesh). The worn bits on the sleeve and pants here made the costume so very real (doesn’t quite show in the photo as much as in person). The same can be said for Mork’s suit which was on display within the museum as well. There are pilled bits of fabric and faded coloring on the costume and it endures me to it every time I see it. Last viewing of it was at the Cinerama theatre last year.
Walked through the video game exhibit a bit wistfully as well, as I loved them so much growing up. I’m sure my thumbs are still programmed to conquer Super Mario Bros. 1, 2, and 3 complete with turtle-stair-flagpole infinite life 1-ups galore.
Pinball meets Pollock, you say? I’m paying attention. There are so many wonderful things to do, that I don’t bother with game apps due to their consuming nature. Exception(al)! Gotta check out this Inks app momentarily.
Edie had fallen asleep in her stroller so we took the opportunity to head to the horror exhibit, pulling the cover closed over her head for extra visual protection in case she chose to wake up without any warning. Bean took the elevator down, encouraging me to walk the spiraling stairs so that I could view the mosaic of black and white photos featuring screaming people. Joy! Not particularly frightening, though slightly oppressive as the steps wound down and the number of pictures grew in expanse creeping up the wall to the ceiling above, enveloping people on the stairs. Surprisingly, disappointingly (?), the exhibit set up wasn’t particularly scary, or so I thought. I joined Bean in the elevator on the way back up, and as the door swept closed, I jumped. “Really?” she said, as I looked away from the large black and white face of a screaming man plastered to the inside of the door.
The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari tonight. A silent movie at the Paramount with live music scoring the whole affair. A treat!
The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari’s Alan, played by Hans Heinrich von Twardowski, left me with images of Crispin Glover in mind due to that similarity in profile and hairstyle. ♦
It’s kinda ugly.
(I like it.)
Runny yolk? Please.
Turkey bacon doing its best (visual) impersonation of the real deal.
Yep, I regret store-bought pesto every. single. TIME! Usually make my own- easy enough and- heaven. A green food that tastes like anything but green, if ya know what I mean.
Bought the latest Brandon Flowers album, The Desired Effect, a while back and am only now giving it a decent listen. Loving the varied layers of instrumentation, the thrumming beat of this song and the poppish anthem of that one. The reviewers that begged to differ are welcome to the leftovers of that afore mentioned store-bought pesto. Cheers! This album in fact, helps make up for his last attempt, Flamingo, which hasn’t received much play past the initial one frankly. Save for one song, that is- Crossfire– its accompanying music video features Charlize Theron fending off a copious number of ninjas- entirely plausible- all to save Flowers who finds himself bound and incapacitated not twice, but thrice.
The look he gives her? It’s nice to be fought for.
I don’t currently enjoy the wait at red intersection lights while driving, as I feel certain that I receive more than my fair share. The wait at this particular intersection happens to be an exception however. Mere feet from the log river ride at the adjacent amusement park makes for a gorgeous sight at times depending on the position of the sun when I happen to be driving by, most usually on the shortish ride home from the toy company (I love saying that). Spent many weekends there growing up. At the amusement park, not the toy company. (Knew that was coming, didn’t ya?)
Amusement- got myself locked in an overnight garage several months back. Well, my car, rather. Was enjoying the likes of the Rat City Brass, a Tijuana Brass tribute band, with coworkerly friends in celebration of the new gig. Downtown Seattle in the near pouring rain at 2 a.m. is always welcome (hey, it feels iconic), yet knowing I fully read the sign that stated the garage would close at midnight when I knew I’d be out past that and still choosing to park there? Makes me wonder about the firing rate of the synapses in the grey matter above. Thankfully, a call to the garage attendant and a $35 fee set my beloved car free sooner rather than later. Oddly, a new coworker experienced the very same thing at the very same garage after attending the same venue within weeks of my debacle. Same musical escapade? I imagine not.
This debuted last week and it’s pretty epic. Macklemore & Ryan Lewis’s Downtown music video. There are too many points of like to list without breaking out the bullet points what with its mishly mashed cluster funk of audio and visual variety. And it’s filmed in Spokane, WA which has been more or less surrounded in a pretty epic ring of fire as of late due to rampant and massive forest fires the likes of which have not been seen in the Northwest.
Aside: Thrilled to learn that my friend Shannon’s parent’s farm (with sheepies) will survive the surrounding fires largely due to the (at last!) rainfall over the weekend. They stowed their kitties away in a trailer atop a grassy notgreen hill the past week, with daily visits ensuing. The internal interactions of that trailer- the stuff of Youtube videos, me thinks.
Shane and Bean just returned from Spokane actually, along with a new children’s book for my collection procured from Boo Radley’s, a novelty shop I’d like to enjoy some day. I snapped a recent pic of them at the park as we hung out with Julian, surely a munchkin composed partially of silly putty. ♦
*I may have to rethink this spork thing. Till then, they remain evil.
The Committee Hoping for Extra-Terrestrial Encounters to Save the Earth (yep, that spells “CHEESE”) claims they have 1962 World’s Fair plans stating that the Space Needle was built to talk to aliens in other solar systems.
Clearly, it was to talk to aliens in this system as well, because that’s where we went for my dad’s official birthday, the revolving SkyCity rest(a)urant atop the Need(l)e, suspect s(i)st(e)r i(n)cluded.
The folks across from us cleared out soon after we got settled in, momentarily leaving a clean and pristine spot from which to capture the view beyond. I raised the camera, pushed the button and upon review of the shot, found that my dad had im(perfectly) timed a sip. That’s lemons for ya.
“Overpriced and far from good,” to quote a write up of their fare, was spot on. The meal arrived looking like this, but ultimately, tasted like that- a pile of poorly marbled too tough tenderloin with dry and forgettable sides so bad they refused to be pictured a second time.
Turns out the Lunar Orbiter saved the day! Uh, night! The iconic dessert arrived billowing bountiful puffs of smoke, as if floating in on a cloud from just outside the window. An ice cream sundae, it is, an item still featured from the original 1960’s menu. The dessert and bustling atmosphere accompanied by undeniably magnificent visuals makes this one needle not to drop, despite them lacking luster in their main meals.
We stepped outside soon after, as the sun set in the distance. I located the Northwest (it’s the place to be). And then I spotted ginormagantuan daddy long legs atop the Seattle Center far below. See?
Turns out Seattle artist and science illustrator Marlin Peterson was commissioned to paint a mural in the city somewhere. He started searching for a large roof after not finding a large available wall, and tada!- trompe l’oeiled. ♦
Painting by Victor Figol