I've been obsessively wearing my overalls ever since I bought my ticket to Seattle. I've also stopped tweezing my eyebrows. Maybe I'll stop shaving, too. I'm looking to go casual, is what I'm trying to say here.
I spoke with my old co-consipirator, insanely great poet, and current Seattleite, Robin Merigan, the other night about my impending arrival.
"Oh, we've built lots of shiny new buildings for you, don't you worry," he said, with only the slightest trace of sarcasm.
Of course, moments before, Robin had described himself as a capitalist pig simply because he had been shopping at Target. Even more amusing is that Robin just got a job as a banker, but he has no issues with that whatsoever.
I love Seattle.
I spoke also with my ex-, John the Welder, about spending a little quality time with him, both with and without his lady. He invited me to a barbecue on his porch (I told my roommate about this invitation, and he said, "You're not going, right?"), and then we discussed a much more enticing plan. See, John the Welder, is, well, a welder, and he also does a lot of design, so throughout Seattle you can find ornate gates and doorframes and other cool stuff that he's designed, built, and implemented. So, we're going on an architectural tour of Seattle in my convertible rental, to see all of his work.
I find this very exciting and intriguing, and not in a sexual way, but in a closure kind of way. Also I like big crazy metal work. And I'm letting him drive the car, because I always liked it better when he drove. He's a steady driver, and I feel safer with him behind the wheel.
And finally, I talked to Mollie, my hippie girlfriend who lives in a trailer on Vashon Island (which is a quick ferry ride away from downtown Seattle). I'm plotting some time with her and Kelly, both of whom were my best girlfriends in Seattle.
I asked Mollie how her worklife was going, and she sighed.
"I'm working in this shithole of a bar, and then, like, eight hours a week for a non-profit. I've finally decided to look for a job in the city. I've been looking for two years for work on the island, and I just can't find anything."
I started laughing at her. I couldn't stop.
"Two years? It would have taken me two weeks to make that decision."
Two years. Jesus. Those girls.
A banker, a welder, and a slacker. It's going to be a good trip.