A tasty storm blew through today — winds at 50mph, rain in torrents. The Westin towers (47 floors, 40 floors) were swaying and squeaking like a billion screaming rats. People always freak out about this, which is interesting to watch. My shoulder from the Indoboard incident is getting better — it popped out of its funk today and gave me a big nerve shock. Strange but now it feels a little better.
Books. I am a book freak and I don't care. Walked down 1st Avenue with no real purpose other than books — no hurry, no having to be anywhere, just being. Bought Diamond, the story of the diamond business, and a nice atlas of the Benelux countries. I will be damned if I am going to get lost in some Belgian farmland, though I suspect I still will.
Also: the Green River Killer story keeps growing. Ridgway may have killed people from Vancouver BC down to San Diego. When they searched his house, they found the same book about the case I was just trying to buy. It was sold out all over Seattle.
At work: found a microbial mat growing in the bottom of the ice machine after all the ice was taken out. We killed it. Back at UW I once worked with scientists on unnamed bacteria from Antarctic sea ice. The bacteria in our ice cooler at work was a pretty large mat — I am sure it would have been all the rage at UW. Anyway, it's dead now, and we do need the ice for food.
Wild trip to Vancouver for the Red Wings vs. Canucks game. Canucks won 3-0 — hadn't beaten Detroit in like 5 years. The hometown crowd was stoked. The big highlight: the Stanley Cup was at the Shark Club, less than a foot from our table. You could feel the energy from it. People could touch it, hug it, even lick it, but no lifting — big hockey thugs would fix you. We grabbed our own photos with a box camera. I will remember that for the rest of my life.
The drive back: wet, crap weather, US customs didn't completely believe that people would come up from California just for a hockey game. They went through all our bags. My buddy Zack, asleep in the back, was woken by a halogen flashlight in his face and said "boy that's an ugly one." We were free to go. I said "Thanks, eh?" and screeched off.
I have now been reduced to drinking instant coffee. It went from Starbucks to Tully's to Texaco to Taster's Choice. Still over $8 for the package. Times are tough.
Hotel reservations for the Europe trip all locked in: Hotel Pulitzer in Amsterdam for $70/night, Luxembourg for $29, Brussels airport hotel for $49, Sheraton Amsterdam Airport on the way out for $49. Five-star the whole way on a budget. Not too shabby.
Unemployment paperwork sorted after a panicked morning watching Boeing hand out 1,300 layoff slips. Went to the office, the lady helped me get things in order. The cheque is in the mail.
Year in review: before the attacks I was racing hard, training well, been-there-done-that on all fronts. Then it happened. I will always remember reading my email that morning and finding my inbox flooded with sympathy from Europe without knowing why. Then we all knew.
A lot of my life has changed since then. Instead of thinking about what to do with all my cash, I am now thinking about if I will have enough for rent. Those terrorist have really put a crimp in my style. We are all in a state of depression. I have learned things words can't describe. I am still in therapy — and to think I was almost done before the attacks. I can only hope that 2002 will start with a positive note and only build throughout the year.
Christmas Day. I was watching midnight mass but stopped — it seems silly. People act all holy for just a day, and then it will be back to the battlefield. A truly holy person would celebrate Christmas every day and do it by deed instead of proclamation.
Work on Boxing Day was busier than expected — a good haul. I donated my zagat to charities: Landmine Survivors and the UNHCR. With that done, onward to the future.
Reading the journals of Sylvia Plath. Winter is the right time for that. So far she is just a mixed-up girl trying to figure out what to do at Smith College. I know this girl, and when I am done I will give the book to the girl I know who is a lot like Sylvia.
Trip to the Benelux is on track — I have a rental car, apparently some 2002 BMW thing. A little more than the cheaper cars, but how often do I get to drive on the Autobahn? The last thing I want is to be on it in some gutless wonder. Put some Orange County CDs in the tray and watch out Luxembourg.
Going through old tapes from my college radio days at KUNR in the early 1990s. Alternative music and grunge were changing everything like every single day. Back then, with the sweet smell of sagebrush in the summer air, that music acted as the final elixir to a new world I was entering. I don't know if it was the open desert with wild horses, or the snowboarding, or the Jägermeister and the gambling downtown that made it all happen. Really I think it was the awkward age of trying to find and discover oneself. Location has a very important bearing on the outcome. Think about your own awkward years and your geographic location. It did for me.
Sydney just passed midnight. A pretty good fireworks show, though I am sure everybody there is nervous about fire given the bushfires. Downtown Seattle has everything set up for the Space Needle. I just wish we didn't have to get freaked out about security — it makes me nervous to be surrounded by police just to have fun. Instead I will be at work, safe and sound, and will take a look around after 2am when everybody else is drunk and I won't be.
This time next week I will be on a plane to Holland. That will be something different. Until then — and through everything that was 2001 — onward.