Jesus it's been a brutal week. I've had conference calls with Europe from 7am to 10 am every day this week, and then again from 11pm to midnight on a couple of days. We're in heavy planning mode, past the event horizon, but when you work this much you start running into diminishing returns. I find myself blacking out for 10 minutes at a time, staring at the screen and just not being able to make sense of it. It's like permanent jetlag, which is new, and, you know, worrying.
But last night I got together with some cats from my company who'd all been transferred from Copenhagen to Seattle in the last couple of months. Mostly Danes but also an American friend who'd lived in Denmark for about as long as I had. Even though we're back in the States now, it's hard not to feel like an expatriate. It's very strange, how the culture shock is much more intense coming back than it was moving away the first time. Not bad really, just disorienting sometimes.
So we saw some live music and went to a Tiki bar in Belltown afterwards. I taught the bartender how to make the Tokyo Tsunami - a drink the bartender at Beauty Bar in San Francisco taught me ten years ago (her name was Margarita). The six of us went through a few rounds. I was bone-tired after this week, but it was so great to be out again, listening to music and being surrounded by people.
The Tokyo Tsunami
1 part orange juice
1 part pineapple juice
1 part cranberry juice
2 parts Stoli Vanil
Today was Saturday and the weather finally broke - the sun breaking through the scud and mist at last, to reveal the city with a sharp-edged clarity that felt strangely nostalgic, for a city I've barely seen yet.
I needed to go downtown to get some stuff done and since the weather was good I walked. It was gorgeous after a week of working indoors. People flooding the sidewalks, smiling, sunglasses on, picking up the strangest random snatches of conversation, like I used to in San Francisco.
Stuff like: "...did she say she had PhotoShop? Because I have this mole on my breast."
I got espresso to go at a Soviet-themed place called the "People's Republic of Coffee," and discovered an art store, and an occult shop where I got a book about Crowley, and a good Pho joint just down the street from my apartment, and the air had a fall chill but the sun was blazing and I couldn't stop smiling at everybody.
As I was walking around I had that song stuck in my head. "I'm in Love with a German Film Star" from like 1981, and just the chorus repeating, where the whole band is singing in shifting harmonies,
I'm in love...
I'm in love...
I'm in love...
I'm in love...
God I love cities.
Capitol Hill is right below the approach path to Sea-Tac and the sky is always filled with airliners. As I was walking home I saw an A340 in Scandinavian Airlines colors. Checked my watch and sure enough it was a bit after 5pm - the daily flight from Copenhagen.
A few weeks ago I saw the same plane, recognized the paint scheme and wondered how many times I'd been on that airplane. The next day when I went to work I found out that my colleague Louise had been on that same flight, and as I'd been looking up at her she'd been looking down at Seattle and also wondering "how many times have I done this."
The world kicks the crap out of you but it's still beautiful. It's not meant to be understood.
I LOVE that tsunami recipe! It's been a while since I had one; this is a good opportunity to make it again.
And I was just telling Andy the other day about your Snatches page on your old site. His favorite from another source is Lewis Black's, "If it weren’t for my horse, I wouldn’t have spent that year in college." Black theorizes on that for a few minutes in his show.
Posted by: Sarah M at November 11, 2007 05:20 AM