Pics Up!

Finally got around to posting my England & Barcelona pics from our recent trip! Check them out here:

England 2007/8

Barcelona 2008

A little color

From the sun and sea of Barcelona to the showers and sea of Seattle.  I'm back.  Partially.  My mind is definitely here, but my body, somewhere over the Atlantic.  I'll have plenty of wonderful wonderful stories of Barcelona (and London New Years) once I get my pictures up; this hasn't happened yet, so I'll wait.

Today was a long and bitterly cold Thursday, seriously wearing on my psyche.  Until I picked up my farmshare and opened up a box of glorious, glorious color.  This week's box included cabbage, red potatoes, celery, yellow onions, red beets, sweet potatoes, leeks, rainbow chard, baby carrots, curly parsley, fresh mint, apples, juice oranges and a mango.  Nothing makes a dark winter night like a treasure trove of fresh produce.

The farmshare has completely changed my cooking life.  Local, fresh, organic, it forces me to cook things I've not ever invited to my table before.  Two months ago, I had never eaten a beet or a sweet potato.  Now I can't live without them. 

I might even like looking at these fruits and veggies as much as I like eating them.  Oh I can't wait for summer produce.  

  

We've made a decision

After much heated debate about our post-New Years long-weekend destination, we kind of surprised ourselves and went with .... 

Barcelona!  I know, right?  Bit left field.  But I started thinking about Gaudi and the beach and not being in cold gray London and it just became apparent that I needed to trick Adam into wanting to go too.  Luckily, I think his (eventual) enthusiasm for the idea is (now) wholehearted and we have already planned a Kate v. Adam Street Photography Deathmatch.  I will win.  What I cannot guarantee is a victory in the battle of Kate v. Catalan because my romance-language brain can get behind Spanish, but "si us plau?"  Not so much.  One last highlight, especially for me, Ms. Christmas, is that Spaniards typically don't give gifts on Christmas Day, but instead on January 6th, Three Kings Day.  The night before, there is a huge celebration as the three kings arrive by boat to Barcelona and parade throughout the town.  Kings throw candy, kids get gifts.  We will be there and I will be giddy. 

  

And I'm thinking as I type this "Whose life IS this?" because 90% of the time, lately, my life just seems totally surreal.  It's nice though to feel the need to pinch yourself every now and again, just to check.

I've somehow lucked out.  Though I'd say my most lucky acquisition is a traveling partner who makes traveling even better than traveling.  A keeper.

   

and because i can't wait to get back to the uk

i'll end a night of theraflu-induced-compulsive-blogging with this 26 days.

pour moi? s'il vous plait?

"What the French strikers want to ignore ... are the economic facts of the end of the twentieth century: 'global capital,' the 'modern service-based economy,' the 'tough new competitive conditions of the twenty-first century,' all of which, the critics say, can be dealt with only by a more 'flexible' labor market. What the French feel is that for the past half century they have done pretty well by not facing reality -- or anyway, but facing it for one moment and then turning their backs on it for another, in a kind of endless inspired whirl through history. France is a uniquely lovely and supple place to live, and there is a reasonable suspicion here that the British and Americans and the Germans are trying to hustle the French into what is called a liberal paradise, but what no one here is quite convinced is so paradisiacal. Even Bernard Thibault, the secretary-general of the cheminots' union, said not long ago that he was willing to negotiate but that his bottom line was 'Citizens must never be transported like merchandise.' In France though, not even the merchandise is transported like merchandise." -- Adam Gopnik, Paris to the Moon, 1995 Paris, mon petit chou. You know I love you for your strikes. I love you for your love affair with the way things have always been. I love you for your complete disregard of the practical and productive in the name of the Good and the Fair. But, darling, how am I supposed to see you if I can't catch a train? I do hope all will be resolved before December 30th. Then we can celebrate the new year. Bonne Annee! For me? Please?

a sudden burst of fall

when we left seattle for two weeks to fly to the other side of the earth, where flowers are nearly blooming and days are getting longer in preparation for summer, we missed the gradual introduction to fall taking place in the northern hemisphere. so when we returned, not only were we jetlagged for the first week, but we were waking up in total darkness (or two hours late) to scarf weather and bare trees. vacation was incredible, but i can't help but feel a little bummed that i missed out on my favorite part of fall: yellow leaves, sneaky chilly breezes on an otherwise warmish day. nearly a month later, i am still battling my sleep schedule ... but have acclimated to the chill and my new wool coat. i picked up the copy of "Paris to the Moon" that i've been meaning to read for the past year this morning because a new year's in paris is tentatively scheduled and i need to get in the mood. as if i need to really "get in the mood" when it comes to paris. i'm always in the mood. i've never felt more like home in a foreign place than i did in paris ... or france in general. so, really, reading someone else's love letter to the city is, well, just kind of gluttonous. but it's winter, right? i need to fatten up.

up up and away

IM GOING TO NEW ZEALAND IN ZERO DAYS. Can't believe it. If anyone is interested, this is what we'll be doing for two weeks: http://www.newzealand.com/travel/travel-planner/email-view.cfm/tnztp_uuid/47FF6326-B2F5-C6F7-5CA4D76AD0A8A00D Driving from one end to the other and around a little bit. I may or may not take part in "zorbing" but will fo sho be all over my bike-n-wine tour in Hawke's Bay. Mr. Death ma'amed our way into this house http://www.capesouthcottages.co.nz/pages/thecottage.php because we are bitches. I may not ever come back. Some other thoughts: 1) omfg could grey's anatomy be more retarded? no. "one of youre residents has been attacked and a BABY is MISSING." need I say more? no. 2) I miss my piano already. 3) In an attempt to get rid of all perishable food before vacay my dinner consisted tonight of crackers and boullion, frozen yogurt and chocolate cookies. none of which, I admit, is really all that perishable. don't tell my mother. 4) Tomorrow I will go to work for three hours and distribute "Katie's Job 101: A Manual for Filling the Void in 11 Easy Steps." And I'm not joking. That's what the cover says. It took me five hours to write today. I need a fucking raise. So Bon Voyage rainy Seattle! Viva raining New Zealand! I'll have a full report on whether or not Spring rain feels the same as Fall rain when I return. Oh yes, and I was going to bring back bottles of wine until I realized I could just buy them at Metro and save the suitcase space. Which means you're all getting Maori mud and hobbit huts instead. Excited? You should be!

my head is a box full of everything

So, two major updates: 1) I'M GOING TO NEW ZEALAND IN 15 DAYS to celebrate the wonder that is our favorite Kiwi, Mr. Cameron Death, before he leaves us for, um, Los Angeles. It is just now sinking in that we will be Cammy-less in a month which for me means a) there will no longer be Perez Hilton interludes in the Microsoft dinner conversations (I may not survive) b) I might actually start having to, like, hang out with my boyfriend and stuff c) no more night eating stories d) Seattle will be that much less tidy and scented-candled. In fact, Seattle might actually smell completely different without Cameron and his artillery of scented candles. God, it's going to be miserable. 2) My wonderful and financially irresponsible boyfriend bought me a PIANO for my birthday. A friggin piano! It's electric, which I had always kind of wondered about ... but friends, let me tell you, I am in love. She is beautiful. She SOUNDS beautiful. She also has a headphone jack (important when you live in a small apartment and your boyfriend is tired of hearing Chopin). The problem is, I CANT STOP THINKING ABOUT IT. I'm at work and all I think about is this piano. I just want to go home and play it. It was strange, the first night I got it I couldn't do a thing, and then the other night, all of the sudden, my fingers just REMEMBERED how to do it. And now I'm Pathetique-ing all over the place. I forgot how much I miss playing music! I did it for so many years and then didn't do it for so many years. It's very therapeutic. Oh yeah, there is also a 3) Keep your eye out for my fight with a fellow Seattlest writer about why Portland > Seattle. Should be up today or tomorrow. And then all of you Portland peeps best be chiming in. Support the homeland.

the one pool where i'd happily drown

ah new york was a whirlwind. it was a beautiful weekend. seventy degrees and perfect. i walked my feet to complete disrepair. they hurt in every way imaginable. everytime i go to new york i do so with the hope that she'll sweep me off my feet. that something in me will wake and i will have no choice but to new york or perish. she is a great city. things happen there. people and taxis and art and money and food and clothes and ahhhh. but there's something foreboding about her. this constant feeling that if you turn the wrong corner, she'll swallow you alive. but you love her all the same. i'm listening to lcd soundsystem right now and the singer just said "new york's the greatest if you get someone to pay your rent." and i laughed. not much on earth rivals a stroll through the west village in the sunshine with a few cupcakes. adam is convinced the city won't survive the next few years. i like to think that's not true, but also think that probably adds to the eerie feeling. it's hard to be an "american" and not feel completely protective of new york. it is the most american place on earth. and not in a flag-waving post-9/11 god bless sort of way. people work so hard. you can feel the blood and sweat all over. it's exhilarating and exhausting in every second. i came home to seventy-five degrees and perfect. and my dahlias are blooming. it's a different world here. not better. just different. (i'll try and hassle adam into getting me some of the pictures he took.)

it's a hell of a town ...

found a message on my phone from adam this morning asking if i wanted to meet up with half of his london crew in new york this weekend. as if he needed to ask. unfortunately, we picked a bad weekend for a cheap getaway. what the hell is going on in new york this weekend? it took us all day to find an available hotel. but it's found! deal is done! nyc + me = tomorrow night! last time i was in new york it was a little bit of a whirlwind and i never really got my bearings. that happens when i don't get to walk my way around a new place. it was also february and ass cold. so i never made it north of the met. oh but this time harlem, this time columbia, i'll drop by. it's supposed to be sunny and 60s all weekend. hallelujah. nothing else is really on the agenda. i'm thinking some flea markets and some soho and some moma. and a nice sunshiny stroll through the park. also secretly want to go to the public library. ahhh. come on new york. second date? let's give it a shot.