Well That Was Fun!

By now I'm sure that the possibly zero left of you reading this dribble know that I am no longer in Seattle. If there is someone who does not know this then clearly you should speak up as we apparently are not that close of friends/family/strangers and most likely should be because you have more faith in my blog skills than anyone else.

Yes moving into the suburbs of Seattle was not the saving grace I had hoped for. The distance from anything exciting was just a bit too far, and living with a child? SO not for me. Ultimately the fact that I had my last 50 dollars and no job or prospects of a re-location I called the parents. After a couple days of intense stress and a scrunched up face (not due to constipation) I made the decision to launch myself back to the midwest. 

Luckily I had hardly unpacked my car as I had moved only a week earlier. I put an ad up on craigslist for a rideshare, picked a guy, and put faith in the universe. When you have finally made the decision to move or travel there is nothing worse than being all packed up and having to wait. You just want to get the bloody hell out of there! The plan was to meet some of these potential roadtrippers to determine after a five minute introduction whether or not they are going to rape, rob, murder, or annoy you. Talk about making a good first impression. The other person is totally aware that their character is being completely picked apart. One of the guys I had met previously clearly stated this in a moment of awkward silence: 'Its pretty weird knowing that you're trying to determine if I'm going to murder you. I'm not by the way.' Ummm....yeah. Its really better to just not verbalize the underlying point of the meeting. 

I didn't have a chance to meet the guy I finally chose because I was impatient to go and just told myself that I would pick him up and if I didn't feel right about it, he just wasn't getting in the car and I'd go solo. Well if you have not previously met your cross-country companion it is agony watching all of the people walking in the direction of your car and either saying to yourself, "Oh please don't let it be that short ugly guy with the twitch who probably smells like dumpster and talks about the mating rituals of weasels", or, "Ooo that guys looks good, and he has a big back pack, yeah I bet its him. I hope its him!", or, "Fuck, this guy wants to listen to country music the whole way doesn't he". Well luckily my guy seemed totally normal, so he jumped in, I asked the universe for some guidance and we rolled outa town. 

He was a fantastic companion, couldn't have asked for a better one! He didn't bring any music so I had the treat of listening to mine the whole way. We didn't feel the need to fill the silence. I hate mindless dribble from people who think silence is awkward. I like silence. He also guided our lives in the middle of the night through the worst storm I have ever driven through, and I've driven through a lot of em! The most amazing  lightening I have ever seen. That is actually one of my favourite parts of driving across the plains, when it storms, cause you can see it for miles! We drove straight through, parted, and I was back. 

I finally sold my car, and paid off all of my debts. A clean financial slate just may be the best freedom inducing feeling in the world. 

A Smidgen of Self-Pity

I have relinquished myself to accepting that life is breeding me for something pretty awesome.  This may sound as though I am ungrateful for my days of glory to come, on the contrary, I more than most am incredibly anticipative of how I shall overcome. The hang-up is that my day to day happenings are mimicking a poorly written sit-com. Sometimes I think Woody Allen is lurking around the corner snickering at me with a snide aside to the audience, which can't decide to laugh or groan with the permanent confused expression that comes from listening to an Allen ramble. If I ever find myself at an auction where I can have a cynical, neurotic, depressed Jew who performs verbal acrobatics narrate my life, I will wager my first born. 

This has come to me on the day that I became the recipient of a 5 year old roommate and his father into my company, or rather they received me into theirs.  Thus, the inception of my seventh residence in the past year. The transformation started with my hermitic studio apartment, to a van loaded with 1,000 lbs of treehouse, then an oddly transcendent family-client-coworker-nanny-boyfriend situation in Beverly Hills, to my first housemates in 2 years, back to another van of which there was an attempted at-home robbery, off to another three roommates, and now... 

...I am domesticated and my new dwellings come gratis with a super jealous ex-girlfriend. Freebie! I of course am simply a jobless, penniless, homeless nomad praying on the generosity of others. Whereas I do not think my pernicious doppelganger of the same name will see so clearly. Quite possibly there will be a duel hence she grabs her sword with a six fingered hand, as any modern view of a duel is based upon an 80s cult classic. For someone who has no interest in doing the death dance with personal drama it seems to find me unawares and with my pants down. 

A smug contented smile wound its way across my face today as I realized it took me a total of about three lazy hours to pack up my life. That smile turned to self-pity when I found myself dashing out of my first Seattle digs and veering out of the driveway without looking back. Could I really just detach myself so easily? Yep. It took me three months to finally take everything out of its box. Only to have to pack it up a few weeks later. I now find that the possessions I transport with me have little meaning. I no longer am anal-retentive about folding my clothes, and don't think twice about throwing them in a bag (this is big for me). Everything else is orderly however, considering that I really just have to straighten a few books to make things clean. 

Funnily enough I find the Woody Jew hilarious and have discovered much hidden jest in my discombobulated survival. 

Birthday Suits and Dr. Seuss

sredir ekib dekan...naked bike riders

My neighborhood, Fremont, is self-obsessively called 'The Center of the Universe' to the repugnance of its Seattle inverse.  Here exists an ardent love for aging hippies, self-expression, nudists, and pagan offerings; embodied in the annual Solstice Parade. 

The beginning of summer is continually marked by throngs of people with the mantra- I'm here so I'm open-minded- lining the main drag of Fremont, smiles plastered and eyes popping. The spectacle before them: the local community - unclad, painted, and biking quickly past to announce the coming paraders. Somehow this display of pedaling flesh is pertinent to the sumnal commencement. These bikers, in all of their un-selfconsciousness and want to be free, have adorned themselves to represent a naked alter-ego. The Silver Surfer, Superman, Uncle Sam, Mother Earth, and Dr. Seussisms all whizz past. Possibly this is in jest to these glorified characters sans-costume. 

What follows is truly a folly mirroring an amalgamation of Cirque du'Soleil and Dove's 'Campaign for Real Beauty'. Perhaps more so it seems a real-time modern representation of a Hieronymus Bosch creation. It was splendid to say the least. I gathered along with the rest of the open-minded onlookers to gaze upon the paraders and floats which marched like visual candy. Everything more odd and ungraceful as the next. There was no representation of local schools, except for the teachers who decided to be naked and therefor painstakingly disguise themselves as not to end up celebrated on the pages of Facebook. No companies, organizations, logos etc. Everything was up for interpretation, from the winter wedding group festooned with Elizabethan era paper costumes, to a p.v.c. taurus spider bike?, a group  looking like slutted out Mad Hatters giving free hugs, and of course the ganja float. 

Everyone is headed for an offering to the gods at Gasworks Park where the hills are festooned with the au naturel and their admirers. I had originally planned on being one of those naked alter-egos, though ducked out as I couldn't find a partner in crime. One of those regrets I'll make sure not to make again. Next time the opportunity arises for me to do something naked with a group of strangers, I'm in...... 

This entire festival is hosted by Solid Ground, a non-profit dedicated to improving the lives of the impoverished. 

Cob + Bamboo

So what am I doing for fun? Building a cob oven and bamboo shelter. This is taking place in new friend Peter's backyard. Its time to take my knowledge of the built world and conquer it sans treehouse. I am incredibly pumped to do this! P'der has worked with building earthdomes at CalEarth and is a wonderful team mate for this expedition. I will now keep you abreast of our triumphs and foibles. 

For starters we have 30 15ft bamboo shoots we have to cure. Researching the different ways to do this...if anyone has pointers. 

To those of you who are wondering if I am turning into a smelly hippy you are half right. I do smell much of the time as I have started finally wearing all natural deodorant (sorry Mara), and I haven't cut my hair in over six months. Other than that...just Elyse.

Whim

Three months ago I set out on a whim that took me westward. Minneapolis to Seattle via...Los Angeles? Clearly not as the crow flies. Treehouses were calling to me again, as was an unexpected month living in a white molester van. This I found to be amazingly cozy, nice and quiet at night and poundingly musical when it rained. We were like turtles taking our home with us wherever we went. It was all made easier since my roommate was a seasoned vehicular dweller with a peculiar grocery list that lent itself well to no refrigeration requirements. Don't sardines and olives just make your mouth water? 

I was beginning to think that van living was THE LIFE...until... one night about 4am I was awoken by a man opening the back door and attempting to rob us of a backpack full of books. Scary? Yes, but in the end totally hilarious, as we realized what a surprise he must have gotten when he opened the doors and a full grown human jumped at him from the darkness! Despite the laughs I left a few days later to my adventures northward.

The Emerald City found me a sad story as I arrived, without a job, to two weeks straight of rain. For someone who doesn't know a soul or hardly a dollar to her name, it took a lot for me not to turn right around and head back to the van. But you all know I am much more stubborn and determined than that. My three week anniversary was marked by a night of vomiting, expectorants from the rear, and a severe case of dehydration leading to a pleasant trip to the emergency room. It was wonderful to have company! 

Life decided to apologize with a job offer, and I became a chocolatier and expert carmel apple maker. However, a couple weeks later my body decided it missed the illness and gifted me with a wonderful month long bout of bronchitis.

I am finally ailment free and shedding the consequences of taste-testing recipes. The summer is here and I can not imagine there are many places more perfect than Seattle in the summer. It is sunny EVERY day, and a bright blue canvas overhead. I have decided to sell my silver stallion of a car and add praise to my bi-pedal abilities.  

After a couple months of living in a chocolate world I have abruptly discovered that the economies of chocolate are suffering like the rest and am looking for new fields to graze on greenbacks.