Snippets

Happy New Year! Everyone is nattering about what to call the last decade. There's a big push for "the Naughts", however I've never heard a soul actually use the term. I wager that the years 2000-2009 will simply be referred as the O's. As in Oh Sh*t. As in the aggregate IQ of most of the members of the last administration. As in the expression on all our faces on 9/11. As in the $ amount in our bank accounts. As in the wondrous day of Prez O's inauguration. Despite the fact that he's becoming a Bush with better window dresssing, 1/20/09 was truly a magical day.

So, let's hear it for the O's!!! And move on to something new, please.

I lived for 12-1/2 wonderful years in Seattle. As a homeowner, I've been relegated to turn eastward, to the City that Shan't Be Named (and, no, it's not Bellevue), also fondly known as the Outer Limits, or OL, for its affordability. Drat those million dollar homes in Seattle--and whoever is foreclosing on all of them. No one's buying them that I can see.

However, my husband and I head to Seattle every chance we get for sun (hush, don't spread the word). We went there yesterday to visit University Village, which is practically its own city now. The last time I was there, back in 1991 or so, it consisted only of a grocery store and some sort of pub/restaurant. I played on a company softball team and that was our apres-game spot.

My first visit to the U-Village was during the blizzard of 1990. I was stranded at work in Kirkland, with no bus in sight for hours, and started walking home. Home was on 85th in Seattle. I was fearless, and never one to sit around waiting. I made it to 520 and a car filled with wonderful Montessori teachers stopped to give me a ride across the bridge. They couldn't take me as far as 85th, but dropped me off at the University Village. I had been living in Seattle for 6 months and might as well have been on the moon, but I asked them for general directions (go right until you hit Aurora, or something) and headed on my way. Luckily I was dressed warmly, with added warmth from the heat of my indignation. How dare they not have buses running, what's with this stupid town that shuts down in snow? And what's with all this fake politeness, anyway--I had moved here from Pennsylvania, that has a veritable phalanx of snowplows at the ready, and Philadelphia, which is not known for politeness of any sort, but at least it's real--I had plenty of time to ruminate and boy did I ever. I scoffed at every hapless soul I saw waiting at a bus stop. Loser!

I finally made it home, stamped off the snow and became a person again. A person who had a neat adventure during the blizzard of 1990.