for when it’s no fun in here, being a lion….*

my neighborhood is real ugly.

there’s a pretty rampant drug problem. the whole place smells like pee and swisher sweets. there are bones and crack baggies and broken glass in every gutter and the few planters.

everyone’s always yelling, because everyone else is yelling.

the garbage trucks are overbearing.

but there are a few things that I like about Belltown. And those are these:

1.) The Lava Lounge. It has a stupid name and is moderately intimidating and hip to look at. But on most nights, it’s fairly quiet. There’s indoor, table-top shuffle-board, Ms. PacMan, all-day happy hour on Sundays and a turntable. There’s Elliot Smith, Simon & Garfunkel, and very little lighting. It’s a good spot.

2.) Mama’s. Also on 2nd and Bell, Mama’s is just around the corner and so, so bomb. Also, the servers are usually very friendly and helpful, and there are lots of posters on the wall to keep you updated on local events. I dream of  Mama’s fish tacos.

3.) The 5-Point. What a gem. A true watering hole, in that you can get an adult beverage almost any time. And you can get a big nasty sandwich actually any time, as the place is 24-hours. It is also extremely dark and has been around for quite a while. It’s grimy and prides itself on taking advantage of “drunks and tourists.” All this while set against the lovely background of the corner at 5th and Cedar. Really hope it’s not actually closing.

4.) Olympic Sculpture Park. At the fringe of Belltown on the Waterfront, this is the only place I really like to run in my area. It’s just beside Myrtle Edwards Park, which is a nice expanse of grass with an awesome view of the Sound. There are ridiculous sculptures and a lot of people taking eachothers pictures. And, if you’re caught there just before an electrical storm, your hair will stand on end. Really!

5.) Regrade Dog Park. This is my dog’s favorite thing about the neighborhood. Just a block from where we live, and across the street from possibly the ugliest bar I’ve seen in the Pacific Northwest, the little patch of gravel and sickly trees used to be a pretty well known hotspot for crack dealing and other unsavory activities. Enter the dogs, exit the tweakers. Now, it’s usually populated until a little after dark by quiet old women with AKC-certified “babies” from the nearby high-rises. I think it’s kind of them to let my mutt and I in.

So, there you have it. The good parts of Belltown.

All five of them.

 

*Points if you get the reference.

batten down the hatches…

i’m taking my vitamins and doing push-ups and training because the winter is coming.

the winter is coming, and with it, the increased energy bills, the assault of inclement weather, the rainwater wicking up the back of my denims, the darkness (and more darkness and perpetual darkness), the onslaught of debt-collectors calling regarding my college loans….

…this year, i don’t even remotely look forward to the winter.

and i’ve got to get out of the middle of the city.

the man whistling down his man from his apartment on the corner, the never-ending stream of garbage trucks, jackhammers and other grinding, grating sounds on the alley, the absolute lack of police presence in my neighborhood (and saturation just four blocks south, at the base of the Andra or the Metropolitan buildings) is stripping my nerves.

 

booooooo.

overwhelmed by your mind.

i think you are radiant.

between you and indiana, there’s never been a warmer september.

two bits…

…is actually four coins. so, here are four points:

1.) From Beyond the Grave!

Adam and I went to Everyday on Cap Hill this weekend (part of our getting-to-know-the-city-so-lets-walk-around-and-drink-our-way-through-seattle plan) and found a few treasures. Aside from a great Best Of George Carlin album, our hearts nearly stopped when I unconvered a copy of Ted Kennedy’s Address at the 1980 DNC!!! For $3.69, it was pretty much of a steal, especially while the flags are, by-and-large, still at half-mast. The craziest part about it? We went home and listened immediately and, almost thirty years later, it could have been coming from this morning’s NPR broadcast. Not much has changed, except that we no longer have the Lion to speak out about minorities and health care. Very eye-opening.

2.) “Someone call a Waaaah-mbulance!”

Everyone knows how I feel about the fate of journalism. Jon Stewart is, we all know, doing fabulous things for both the mainstream media and real journalism. This showcases some of the best commentary regarding Fox News (guhhhhh) and the ever-growing frenzy surrounding health care. Three cheers for Comedy Central!

3.) WTF Seattle?!

Seriously? What the hell? Ref. 71? If you don’t know about Tim Eyman (double guhhhhh) and infamous ref-gathering and signature-combing, please direct your attention here: http://ballotpedia.org/wiki/index.php?title=Tim_Eyman

Now that you’ve got some background info, see what’s the skizz here in the faux-Emerald City (Seriously! They call themselves that! The nerve!)  here: http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/localnews/2009780479_apwadomesticpartnerships.html

If you’re like me (and many of you are): you don’t vote in Seattle. In my case, it’s because they won’t actually let me (coming upon four years of life paying sales tax here, not to mention multi-thousands of dollars in tuition to a state school) become a citizen of the State. Thusly, all I can do is talk to politicians at my job (www.kuow.org, we’ve got two major local politcos/hottie-hots coming into the studio on Wednesday AM) and educate my local friends. So here I am, educating. COME ON, SEATTLE. Stop overturning things that are good for you! The bag tax? Fine, whatever. But this? Jesus wants people to have end-of-life decisions and tax breaks. I promise.

4.) Our Daily Bread:

it doesn’t get any better than this guy.

 

<3 over and out.

the liking did me better than i ever thought it would.

i want to sleep until graduation.

and then keep sleeping.

it’s very cold in my house. thanks for trying to help, but as usual, it’s beyond any of our control.

inundated with thoughts of the media. steeping in paper topics that require a linguistic tango that exhausts me mentally, but really, doesn’t take that much effort.

i got a package today in the mail that brought me to the carpet beside the dog and in front of the space heater and kept me there for a very long time. and it hurt very much. because i hurt someone very much and i didn’t mean to. and i miss it, too, but i know it’s not like that anymore.

remember how many other things were at play? the hormones and the drugs and the depression and the loneliness and the heat and the distance and the helplessness and the poverty and the angst and the newness and the youth?

some of those factors are still present. what is no longer present is us, as eighteen and nineteen, respectively. and unfortunately, i think that that is perhaps the crux of feeling like we did when we said all of those things, and were stupid enough to put them into print.

it hurts a lot to think about how i used to feel. that summer is excruciating to remember.

i had to close the book.

and she’ll say “oh, yeah, well, i feel pretty happy, too.”

i ran out of chemicals to keep my mood in check.
it is now, i suppose, “destabilized.”

but it’s great.

the return to humanity from the mechanization of my own body was worth any difficult, sweating, jaw clenched-and-locked re-entry.

things make me deeply happy again, instead of just “less ambivalent.”

i find my face uncomfortable from unbridled smiling, especially when i’m face-to-face with certain others.

i find myself forced to relate this to the person/people whom i am face-to-face with.

fingerpicked guitars, barren tree branches, blond hair and crystalline lawns are all more stunning, more worthwhile, and cause for stopping and listening or touching.

i’m twelve again, journaling and pondering and thinking everything is so much deeper and realer than anyone else could ever even notice.

even indiana is more precious and alive and soft and the savior than ever.
you are now free to move about the cabin.

too drunk and still drinking….

i don’t really like who i’ve grown into.

i’m tired of doing things i’m not proud of.

or things that i don’t remember.

it’s kind of gross.

so maybe i’ll move to california with a sunshine boy who makes me feel like a person worth loving and never look back on this foggy college town where i work in a grease-factory and drink that fact away.

i guess it’s ok, though. everyone looks back on college with a morose sort of humor, right?

….indiana is the most amazing force that ever was. just to clarify.

buckets of rain

i’ve finally achieved the american dream-

my quaint shabby-chic letter ghetto home has a leaky roof, thus leaving me with pots all over the floor and the constant melody of raindrops on metal and gathered water.

i’ve adopted a runaway from work and am now harboring him on the cold and stormy bellingham nights until he finally agrees to turn himself in and face the next three years in juvenile hall. i told him that the years between fifteen and eighteen aren’t all that special, anyway, and that the real fun (read: borderline alcoholism) doesn’t start until you grow up and get legal.

phone tag with the opportunity council for a check to help me heat the shack has gotten tiresome. i can’t wait to get the check in the mail and spend it on beer and records.

tomorrow is the first day of winter quarter.

it is also, in theory, my last ever “back to school.” tonight is my last school night after a break within the foreseeable future.

indiana is my life and my love.

i thank my lucky stars and plastic rosaries for every piece of it, and raise the entire bottle of wine to the prospect of the future and the current state of living (mostly) alone.

and in a couple years they’ve grown into a perfect family.

my new apartment is nice, but strange. when i got home at 3:30 AM after work, it was unbearably lonesome and quiet. usually, the outside world, the place between work and home, is that way, but then it’s all better when i come home and someone else is there.

which once again supports my belief that indiana is amazing. he’s really good company, for the most part.

so are ceiling fans.

and comic books!

and pirated internet.

unfortunately, i’m so spoilt, that i actually groaned when my thieved connection to a non-existent web of communication was too slow to support the viewing of any media on netflix instant. boo.

i had a really good weekend playing house with zach again. the novelty never wears off, especially when rollerblading in the house and eating ice cream for breakfast are on the agenda.

i love you! move to bellingham. jobs are stupid.

xoxo hanna

she was gazing into the future, riding on the jack of hearts.

so i was trying to figure out what i would regret less:

lock into a lease, deal later; or be decisive now and take time to adjust.

so i was swift. because you can’t always put things off (even if later is the perfect time for everything.)

and really, it seemed like a good idea. and maybe i’m a little excited.

and now i’m really afraid that maybe it will never, ever be ok again.

your glasses on the counter next to your brand of face wash, which will always always be yours for as long as i live, was too much for me on this particularly low friday. fuck friday, by the way. fuck the weekends.

but then there’s the dog.

and he’s licking his foot like a cat/moron.

and he’ll still be around to leave socks on the floor.

and to whine for no reason.

and to lick my feet while i’m shaving my legs in the bath, in the dark.

but i can’t say i won’t cry a lot.

and you know that’s really why i’m looking at apartments, still.

because maybe if i find you the perfect one, you’ll stay.

i have never lived in this town without you here.

it will be an entirely new challenge and

i kind of want to pass on the whole thing.

…i don’t like this at all.