Indeed, I had an experience of inner turmoil over whether or not to use the phrase "fixing to" in my last post. You see, I am a Grammar Girl and after searching her website thoroughly with every variation of "fixing to" possible, I came up with zero results. This indicated to me that it is incorrect grammar.
Nonetheless, I have a deep appreciation of cultural dialects and my Southernness won out. I typed "fixing to," backspaced and typed "going to," backspaced and typed "fixing to," backspaced and typed "about to," before finally backspacing and leaving it as "fixing to."
Yee-haw!
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Monday, August 25, 2008
Sideswiped by a crackhead
No kidding.
Remember Columbia City, the cute area of south Seattle where Jesse and I found Jones BBQ and fried okra a few days ago?
Ah, not so cute.
Jesse and I were waiting at a stoplight one block north of Jones BBQ on Sunday afternoon. Suddenly, the car lurched forward as we were hit from behind...we thought it was a regular rear ender, until we noticed the car actually SQUEEZING between us and the car next to us also waiting at the red light. We actually felt the car scrape along our driver's side like a ripple effect.
The car ran the light and suddenly, 3 police cars came out of the woodwork and started chasing the guy. Jesse pulled off the road and called 911, when one of the cops came back around to check on us. Officer Elliott took Jesse's info, and while doing that, kept updating us on what he was getting through his police radio.
Turns out they had been chasing the guy, but had stopped for whatever reason they were told to. Officer Elliott was fixing to go back to the station when he witnessed the guy run into us. (That's nice that he saw it.) So they started chasing him again. As we were standing there with the officer, the guy came through our intersection again! He then got on the light rail tracks (which aren't open yet, by the way.)
To top it off, Officer Elliott informed us that the guy was actually smoking crack WHILE being chased.
PS There's actually minimal damage to Jesse's car and we're both fine, which is pretty amazing. I mean, it was like a scene from a movie--the guy squeezed between us. Seriously.
Remember Columbia City, the cute area of south Seattle where Jesse and I found Jones BBQ and fried okra a few days ago?
Ah, not so cute.
Jesse and I were waiting at a stoplight one block north of Jones BBQ on Sunday afternoon. Suddenly, the car lurched forward as we were hit from behind...we thought it was a regular rear ender, until we noticed the car actually SQUEEZING between us and the car next to us also waiting at the red light. We actually felt the car scrape along our driver's side like a ripple effect.
The car ran the light and suddenly, 3 police cars came out of the woodwork and started chasing the guy. Jesse pulled off the road and called 911, when one of the cops came back around to check on us. Officer Elliott took Jesse's info, and while doing that, kept updating us on what he was getting through his police radio.
Turns out they had been chasing the guy, but had stopped for whatever reason they were told to. Officer Elliott was fixing to go back to the station when he witnessed the guy run into us. (That's nice that he saw it.) So they started chasing him again. As we were standing there with the officer, the guy came through our intersection again! He then got on the light rail tracks (which aren't open yet, by the way.)
To top it off, Officer Elliott informed us that the guy was actually smoking crack WHILE being chased.
PS There's actually minimal damage to Jesse's car and we're both fine, which is pretty amazing. I mean, it was like a scene from a movie--the guy squeezed between us. Seriously.
Friday, August 22, 2008
Afrikando!
FYI: To those who don't scan, I did post twice today so read further down after this...apparently, my vow to blog more (I said better, didn't I? Well, hopefully it's both.) really sunk in...
We went to Safeway (a grocery store for those w/o them) last night, and our check-out guy was unmistakably West African. I don't know how, but after living there for two years, you JUST KNOW when you see one (back me up on this, fellow WA folks). Plus, his name tag said his last name was "Mbacke."
So I asked where he was from and he said Senegal. I replied that I had lived in Dakar for about a year and he was (as usual) ecstatic...and incredulous.
EM: "No way."
PI: "Yes, I did."
EM: "NO WAY."
PI: "Yes, really."
EM: "You like ceebu jinn?"
PI: "Oh yes, it's wonderful. But my favorite is yassa poulet."
EM: "NO!" (hearty chuckling)
PI: "Do you know where I can get Senegalese food in Seattle?"
EM: "Down the street, by the drivers license place."
PI: "I don't know it." (Which I would never say to another American, but I say now with my African-American accent that comes out when talking with Africans.)
(Jesse has been watching this whole thing play out with a grin on his face.)
JS: "Oh, yeah...Afrikando!"
(I look at him appreciatively for knowing A) what the guy said through his thick accent, and B) for knowing what place our new friend was referring to.)
EM: Yes, Afrikando!
We went to Safeway (a grocery store for those w/o them) last night, and our check-out guy was unmistakably West African. I don't know how, but after living there for two years, you JUST KNOW when you see one (back me up on this, fellow WA folks). Plus, his name tag said his last name was "Mbacke."
So I asked where he was from and he said Senegal. I replied that I had lived in Dakar for about a year and he was (as usual) ecstatic...and incredulous.
EM: "No way."
PI: "Yes, I did."
EM: "NO WAY."
PI: "Yes, really."
EM: "You like ceebu jinn?"
PI: "Oh yes, it's wonderful. But my favorite is yassa poulet."
EM: "NO!" (hearty chuckling)
PI: "Do you know where I can get Senegalese food in Seattle?"
EM: "Down the street, by the drivers license place."
PI: "I don't know it." (Which I would never say to another American, but I say now with my African-American accent that comes out when talking with Africans.)
(Jesse has been watching this whole thing play out with a grin on his face.)
JS: "Oh, yeah...Afrikando!"
(I look at him appreciatively for knowing A) what the guy said through his thick accent, and B) for knowing what place our new friend was referring to.)
EM: Yes, Afrikando!
Fried okra--the relationship deal-breaker
Last night, Jesse and I decided to pick up dinner in Columbia City, this cute little area in south Seattle. Neither of us knew the area too well, so we just parked and decided to walk around until we found something we both wanted.
Deliciousness smacked me in the face when we rounded a corner and behold...Jones BBQ. My whole mouth filled with saliva when the smell of brisket hit my nose.
After convincing my northerner boyfriend to go in, the saliva turned into an embarrassing drooling problem. I became weak in the knees as I anticipated the flavors that my mouth had long forgotten.
There were several people in line, and I began to search the menu. Brisket...pork...rib tips...sausage...potato salad...baked beans...and the special veggie of the day, OMG...it's FRIED FREAKING OKRA.
I started shrieking, "Jesse, Jesse! They have fried okra!!" His response made me stop cold. He said, "What's that?"
WHAT.
I was already having a Texas Appreciation Day, having cranked the old country up on my ipod in the car. Jesse had earned major points for being able to sing along to the likes of Conway Twitty & Loretta Lynn's "Louisiana Woman, Mississippi Man" as well as "Louisiana Saturday Night" (maybe I was having more of a Louisiana Appreciation Day?).
And then he LOST all points, and even went into negative digits with those two little words, "What's that?"
So we got a large side of fried okra...and I decided I could still be with him after he tried it and decided it was "actually pretty good."
What's with northerners?
Deliciousness smacked me in the face when we rounded a corner and behold...Jones BBQ. My whole mouth filled with saliva when the smell of brisket hit my nose.
After convincing my northerner boyfriend to go in, the saliva turned into an embarrassing drooling problem. I became weak in the knees as I anticipated the flavors that my mouth had long forgotten.
There were several people in line, and I began to search the menu. Brisket...pork...rib tips...sausage...potato salad...baked beans...and the special veggie of the day, OMG...it's FRIED FREAKING OKRA.
I started shrieking, "Jesse, Jesse! They have fried okra!!" His response made me stop cold. He said, "What's that?"
WHAT.
I was already having a Texas Appreciation Day, having cranked the old country up on my ipod in the car. Jesse had earned major points for being able to sing along to the likes of Conway Twitty & Loretta Lynn's "Louisiana Woman, Mississippi Man" as well as "Louisiana Saturday Night" (maybe I was having more of a Louisiana Appreciation Day?).
And then he LOST all points, and even went into negative digits with those two little words, "What's that?"
So we got a large side of fried okra...and I decided I could still be with him after he tried it and decided it was "actually pretty good."
What's with northerners?
Thursday, August 21, 2008
the woes of a mover
I was all set today to make good on my promise to be the blogger of yesteryears by doing what Kari requested on her own super-blog (seriously, she's like a blogger possessed) and doing a post on my daily commute. But alas, my digital camera is somewhere in all my stuff yet to be recovered from my most recent move. Boo.
So, you have to settle for a "Commute in Words" instead of a "Commute in Pictures."
My commute on Tuesdays & Thursdays has been something else...it looks a little like this:
8:15 am--depart my apartment to work...which means, walking up my street (N. Motor Pl.--not the most appealing street address), crossing the intersection with a major jaywalk violation, digging out my U-PASS to ride the bus "for free" (I pay a nice fee to the UW for this pass)
8:25 am--the #5 arrives and I find a seat, settling in for the 15 minute ride to downtown Seattle with my Jennifer Weiner novel
8:35 am--cross the Aurora Bridge with a lovely view of the Olympic Mtns on the right and the Cascades on the left as we drive over Lake Union
8:40 am--disembark (is that right?) the #5 at 3rd Ave & Bell St and go to Gina's Starbucks to say good morning and grab a chai latte
8:50 am--walk from 1st Ave & Bell (the Starbucks) to the Art Institute at Elliott Ave & Battery St.
3:35 pm--leave work and hoof it uphill to 3rd & Bell to take the #2 or #4 to Westlake Station (which bears a striking resemblance to Grand Central in NYC--seriously), where I then take the first of the #71, 72, 73 or 74 to the U-District for class
3:50 pm--arrive Westlake Station and take one of the 70s
4:00 pm--cross the I-5 bridge with the same view as the Aurora bridge from the morning
4:10 pm--arrive at the UW and walk to class in Miller Hall (man, I need pictures...the views are amazing here)
4:25 pm--arrive to class with 5 min to spare
6:30 pm--leave class and walk to 15th Ave & 42nd St to catch the #44 bus back home to Fremont
6:45 pm--where the h*?! is the #44?
6:55 pm--seriously, did it get lost? an accident? where IS IT?
7:05 pm--the #44 arrives and I get on in a huff, showing the driver my UPASS, which he can shove where the sun don't shine by now
7:35 pm--arrive at 46th St & Fremont Ave, where I disembark and walk 6 blocks home to a happy Sophie
And now it's 3:37 pm so you can see that I am running late to catch my bus!!
So, you have to settle for a "Commute in Words" instead of a "Commute in Pictures."
My commute on Tuesdays & Thursdays has been something else...it looks a little like this:
8:15 am--depart my apartment to work...which means, walking up my street (N. Motor Pl.--not the most appealing street address), crossing the intersection with a major jaywalk violation, digging out my U-PASS to ride the bus "for free" (I pay a nice fee to the UW for this pass)
8:25 am--the #5 arrives and I find a seat, settling in for the 15 minute ride to downtown Seattle with my Jennifer Weiner novel
8:35 am--cross the Aurora Bridge with a lovely view of the Olympic Mtns on the right and the Cascades on the left as we drive over Lake Union
8:40 am--disembark (is that right?) the #5 at 3rd Ave & Bell St and go to Gina's Starbucks to say good morning and grab a chai latte
8:50 am--walk from 1st Ave & Bell (the Starbucks) to the Art Institute at Elliott Ave & Battery St.
3:35 pm--leave work and hoof it uphill to 3rd & Bell to take the #2 or #4 to Westlake Station (which bears a striking resemblance to Grand Central in NYC--seriously), where I then take the first of the #71, 72, 73 or 74 to the U-District for class
3:50 pm--arrive Westlake Station and take one of the 70s
4:00 pm--cross the I-5 bridge with the same view as the Aurora bridge from the morning
4:10 pm--arrive at the UW and walk to class in Miller Hall (man, I need pictures...the views are amazing here)
4:25 pm--arrive to class with 5 min to spare
6:30 pm--leave class and walk to 15th Ave & 42nd St to catch the #44 bus back home to Fremont
6:45 pm--where the h*?! is the #44?
6:55 pm--seriously, did it get lost? an accident? where IS IT?
7:05 pm--the #44 arrives and I get on in a huff, showing the driver my UPASS, which he can shove where the sun don't shine by now
7:35 pm--arrive at 46th St & Fremont Ave, where I disembark and walk 6 blocks home to a happy Sophie
And now it's 3:37 pm so you can see that I am running late to catch my bus!!
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
my own worst blog enevy
Nope, no typo in the title. I am my own worst blog enevy.
I have been thinking lately that I don't blog like I used to. I scrolled back to the good ol' days. My best blogging days were in Denton with Wilbert. I mean, the stories were about extremely mundane, everyday things yet I was being complimented and told I should make a career out of comedy writing.
My envy first began when I visited Kari's blog...then Nicole's...then Marcy's...then other Marcy's...then Abby's...then...you get the idea. Man, why is everyone else stinkin' brilliant and I have blogger's block?
Then, I looked at my own blog when I was super-blogger, and there it was...envy of myself, circa summer 2006.
I will blog better. I will blog better. I will blog better.
I have been thinking lately that I don't blog like I used to. I scrolled back to the good ol' days. My best blogging days were in Denton with Wilbert. I mean, the stories were about extremely mundane, everyday things yet I was being complimented and told I should make a career out of comedy writing.
My envy first began when I visited Kari's blog...then Nicole's...then Marcy's...then other Marcy's...then Abby's...then...you get the idea. Man, why is everyone else stinkin' brilliant and I have blogger's block?
Then, I looked at my own blog when I was super-blogger, and there it was...envy of myself, circa summer 2006.
I will blog better. I will blog better. I will blog better.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Pike Place, Beds, IKEA, and BBQ
I went to Pike Place Market yesterday for lunch. I simply walked 3 blocks south from my office, and I was there. I pulled out my book (The Guy Not Taken by Jennifer Weiner, chick lit at its finest), settled on a stool, and looked at Elliott Bay in all its glory.
All around me, tourists were taking pictures and oohing & ahhing over the wonder that is Seattle, Pike Place, Puget Sound, the Olympic Mountains, the Space Needle, and Mount Rainier--all of which were in sight. I live in a city were people spend thousands of dollars to visit, and work a mere 3 blocks from several world-renowned attractions.
And you can tell I'm not from around here, or I wouldn't ooh and ahh over the fact that I live in such a place. Jesse gets quite bored with my oohing & ahhing at all the Seattle stuff he's been around his entire life.
This is my second week at the Art Institute, and I love it so far. To be sure, it's a ton of information and will not be an easy job but I think it will be a great fit for me. I get to talk with prospective students all day, everyday and hear their stories, interests, dreams & goals and see if the AiS (Art Institute of Seattle) has a good program for them. I'm glad I signed the dotted line (or rather, solid line) on my offer letter. :)
I made a truly fabulous purchase once I had accepted the new job...hallelujah, I have my very own queen-sized bed from Sleep Country! No more twin beds, no more uncomfortable mattresses. You see, since I left home in 1996 the first time, I have been sleeping on hand-me-down or school-sponsored or missionary bedding--all twin sizes and not a one comfortable.
I also invaded IKEA for the first time ever last weekend. People have told me for years that I would love IKEA. They also tried to explain that you have to walk through the entire store, which I could never understand...why can't you just turn around and walk out. Oh, I get it now. There's only registers after you have followed the one-way trail through the entire mega-store. Jesse had fun introducing me to the wonder that is IKEA, and helping me pick out stuff for my new place.
I have been told that I'm a "friend separater" (separator?) by several of my friends, and I guess I am. I tend to hang out in very distinct groups, and actually usually one-on-one getting coffee or dinner with my friends. That's why, after a year in Seattle, Jenn has never met Chrissy, Chrissy has never met Gina, Gina has never met Paula, Paula has never met Josephine, etc. Well, I decided to be a "friend gatherer" last night and invited my new roommate Leah and dear friend Chrissy to dinner. So the 3 of us went to Dad Watson's, a fun bar & grill in Fremont, and lo and behold...we HAD FUN. Who woulda thunk it? I should be a friend gatherer more often.
So...my newest idea? Why don't all y'all, anyone reading this post, come on over to Seattle (you should really want to after reading the first part of this post) and I will have a slumber party for all of you in my new place? I supposed I'll ask Leah if this is ok, or she may prefer that I go back to being a friend separater (or).
Ah yes, one other recent hap worth mentioning. So, back in the Africa days, my roommate Kate & her now-husband Tim who are both from North Carolina tried to convince Kari (from Georgia) and me (from Texas, of course) that true barbecue is only in NC. (Jonathan, Jeremy (both from Iowa) and Tad (Ohio) could care less about the entire topic. However, Kari & I were clearly miffed. Well, 5 years later, Tim sent Kari and me this video to prove once and for all that he and Kate were right. Watch the video for yourself and determine if you'd believe anything these guys say.
All around me, tourists were taking pictures and oohing & ahhing over the wonder that is Seattle, Pike Place, Puget Sound, the Olympic Mountains, the Space Needle, and Mount Rainier--all of which were in sight. I live in a city were people spend thousands of dollars to visit, and work a mere 3 blocks from several world-renowned attractions.
And you can tell I'm not from around here, or I wouldn't ooh and ahh over the fact that I live in such a place. Jesse gets quite bored with my oohing & ahhing at all the Seattle stuff he's been around his entire life.
This is my second week at the Art Institute, and I love it so far. To be sure, it's a ton of information and will not be an easy job but I think it will be a great fit for me. I get to talk with prospective students all day, everyday and hear their stories, interests, dreams & goals and see if the AiS (Art Institute of Seattle) has a good program for them. I'm glad I signed the dotted line (or rather, solid line) on my offer letter. :)
I made a truly fabulous purchase once I had accepted the new job...hallelujah, I have my very own queen-sized bed from Sleep Country! No more twin beds, no more uncomfortable mattresses. You see, since I left home in 1996 the first time, I have been sleeping on hand-me-down or school-sponsored or missionary bedding--all twin sizes and not a one comfortable.
I also invaded IKEA for the first time ever last weekend. People have told me for years that I would love IKEA. They also tried to explain that you have to walk through the entire store, which I could never understand...why can't you just turn around and walk out. Oh, I get it now. There's only registers after you have followed the one-way trail through the entire mega-store. Jesse had fun introducing me to the wonder that is IKEA, and helping me pick out stuff for my new place.
I have been told that I'm a "friend separater" (separator?) by several of my friends, and I guess I am. I tend to hang out in very distinct groups, and actually usually one-on-one getting coffee or dinner with my friends. That's why, after a year in Seattle, Jenn has never met Chrissy, Chrissy has never met Gina, Gina has never met Paula, Paula has never met Josephine, etc. Well, I decided to be a "friend gatherer" last night and invited my new roommate Leah and dear friend Chrissy to dinner. So the 3 of us went to Dad Watson's, a fun bar & grill in Fremont, and lo and behold...we HAD FUN. Who woulda thunk it? I should be a friend gatherer more often.
So...my newest idea? Why don't all y'all, anyone reading this post, come on over to Seattle (you should really want to after reading the first part of this post) and I will have a slumber party for all of you in my new place? I supposed I'll ask Leah if this is ok, or she may prefer that I go back to being a friend separater (or).
Ah yes, one other recent hap worth mentioning. So, back in the Africa days, my roommate Kate & her now-husband Tim who are both from North Carolina tried to convince Kari (from Georgia) and me (from Texas, of course) that true barbecue is only in NC. (Jonathan, Jeremy (both from Iowa) and Tad (Ohio) could care less about the entire topic. However, Kari & I were clearly miffed. Well, 5 years later, Tim sent Kari and me this video to prove once and for all that he and Kate were right. Watch the video for yourself and determine if you'd believe anything these guys say.
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