Into the Blue and Gray - Seattle - Day 1

Michael and I spent the night before in Portland with Amber and Jason in the cute little house they share with their springer spaniel, Parker, and cats, Honky and Crackers (the cats are white with tan splotches. They look identical but according to Amber, Honky is the honor roll student, and Crackers is the smoking under the bleachers badass).

We got up in the morning and Michael wanted to get right on the road to Seattle, so we picked up some coffee and coffee cake at a place Amber recommended, Jim & Patty's (had the Oatmeal Coconut and Marionberry...both excellent), and hit the road.

We got into Seattle at 11am, finding a radio station playing 90's music in honor of 09/09/09. The 90's were probably my favorite decade of music.

Got the keys for my apartment, and finally...we were home. The view of the water was as majestic as I remembered.

Thank God Michael came. It would have probably taken me hours to unload my car, but with Big Mike it took about 20 minutes. Ran a day's worth of errands to get minor furniture and house stuff. It's ridiculous how expensive it is to move. You really have to start over. Stuff that you don't even think about, like saran wrap and spatulas and garbage cans. You need everything. As I'm writing this five days later, I still haven't gotten salt and pepper. Or saran wrap. Michael was a great sport and worked so hard, helping me get situated.

We had lunch at a Vietnamese/Thai restaurant that Michael had picked out, and the proprietors were a little Asian woman and her bleach-blond haired son. They were both so friendly and smiley, and halfway through the meal, the woman brought Michael a second can of soy milk, saying, "This one's on me!" Michael was so excited about that gesture of generosity, he talked about it over the next few days. Michael's such a sweet person; he seems to always be getting free stuff from people who recognize how special he is.

I put the furniture together while Michael watched. He told me I'm his hero because I'm able to handle things myself and don't need other people's help. That was very touching. I told him that I'm only able to take risks to become self-sufficient because of all the love and support I have from him and our parents. Without support from people who can anchor you, it's hard to see how high you can fly.

Outside, dusk fell and the sky changed into the most beautiful contrasts of blues, grays and silvers. Last February (the 28th in fact...the anniversary of Leap Day), when I'd come to Seattle to recuperate from my year abroad, I'd told Rie that the sky here turns colors I don't have the words to describe...I wish I knew the names for each tone and texture of color that the sky and water possess at dusk here. I wish I had a way of describing what my eyes and heart take in every time the sun sets. I can't believe that I have this to look forward to every single day.


The radio station we were listening to mentioned that Weezer and Blink 182 would be playing in a concert the next day.

"Julia, Weezer's playing tomorrow," Michael said. "We should see if we can buy tickets."

Weezer's one of Michael's favorite bands and he's never been to one of their shows. I've been wanting to do something special for him because he's been so nice to come with me and help me move, so I told him I would look for tickets.

Michael has been wanting to check out the bar I'd told everyone about, the place that will be my writing spot for my home away from home, so we headed there for dinner and to use the wifi to look for tickets.

It was a girl I didn't know behind the bar, but as we were getting situated, Peter walked up. He was happy to see me and I introduced him to Michael as the only person I know in Seattle. Michael was happy to meet him and Peter said, "You're a very happy person." Michael has been all smiles all week.

We buy Weezer tickets online, and there's an older guy sitting next to me who tells me to check out this band that's going to be playing next month. The guy, Scott, asks me what brings me to Seattle, and I'm vague as I sometimes am with strangers, telling him "Who knows..." but that when I'm done accomplishing what I'm here to accomplish, I'm going back to California. He tells me that he wants to tell me the truth, that Seattle is a very unfriendly town, that people seem friendly but they don't let anyone in. I tell him that this is exactly what I'm looking for--in LA, people are so co-dependent that they can't believe someone would willingly be out and about alone, so when I'm out by myself, people can't leave me alone. The thing I like about Seattle, is that I can go to crowded places, take everything in, and while people will appraoch, they aren't aggressive if I'm not giving them eye contact.

As we're leaving, he tells me, "Be good." I say, "That's funny...a lot of people have been saying that to me. 'Be good.' Do I seem like I wouldn't be?"

He opens his mouth but doesn't really say anything, then says, "I can't really get into it with you right now."

This confuses me, but I take it for what it's worth.

"Hmmm," I say. "No one can really see themselves. You can have a strong idea of who you are, but what you appear to other people, you can never know except as it's reflected to you from what others perceive."

He says, "You seem like you have more going on than the average person, more than one side. That's why I say, 'Be good.' But I respect both."

I remember what that woman had said, about how I'm appearing to be both sides of the moon simultaneously, and that is intriguing people.

"Thanks," I say. He tells me that if I go to that concert next month, he'll look for me and buy me a drink. "Sure," I say, but we'll see...

I'd bought a queen-sized air mattress because my bed won't get here for another week or so, but it didn't have a pump. I didn't want Michael sleeping on the floor and hurt his back, so I ended up having to blow it up myself. It took an hour and I had to stop a few times when I got dizzy, but I have the lungs of a champ. I freakin' inflated that thing!

No one ever gets to say I don't love my brother.

We sleep with the door to the balcony open...the sounds of trains and the ocean lulling us to sleep.