There but for the Grace of G*d;T-boned on Summit and Pine

Please know this is my third go at writing this entry. When I tell you that the energy around seattle has been weird, I really mean it. For instance, yesterday was my second to last day here at le Village du Universite. After two relatively uneventful years of working here, the entire power grid from the University Hospital to Laurelhurst went out. That includes the whole village. It was a madhouse. People were stuck in the elevators, cars couldnt get past the garage gates, all the restraunts lost product and no one could sell anything since everyone has computorized point of sale systems. Exept for losing this blog twice, I loved it! Nothing could go as normal, people's perfectly planned errands were all messed up. It was chaotic and wonderful. And I got to stand outside and answer dumb questions about when the power would come back on (I dont know!!! I dont even know how electricity works! Or why it went off in the first place!) and if stores would get fined for closing early. Some man brought me a peice of pizza cause they werent gonna sell it in time anyway. Nice! He thought I was pregnant, though, so thats probably why. Oh well! I love pouffy sundresses and if they get me a free lunch then yeah! Im due in the fall!
In other weird energy news, I was t-boned at 10:40 am on July the 28th, three days ago. I was on the way to pick up Parker and Carrie and go to the beach, which I was very excited about. I was talking and laughing my ass off on the phone with Frances, driving straight west on pine at about 30 mph when a 17 year old girl driving a mid 90's black jetta blew the stop sign going north at the intersection of pine and summit, right in front of the cha cha lounge, and totally broadsided SIZZLA to the drivers side. I didnt even see her coming, which is good. I was so relaxed my body rolled like water with the impact. The glass of both drivers side windows shattered all over me and the car swung in a huge circle and I ended up going south on summit before i came to my senses and stopped. I was very shaken and couldnt beleieve it when I looked down and saw that I had no visible injuries. I turned my head from side to side, half expecting it to come off, but felt no discomfort. My door wouldnt open, so I had to climb over the console to get out the passenger side. I had some small cuts and glass shards all over me, but thats it. There was a witness, a big teddy bearish guy with lots of tattoos who saw the girl fail to stop at the stop sign. The girl, a very new driver, was sobbing and worried that her parents would kill her. I went and gave her a hug and told her I was ok. She had a friend with her who told me " im so glad youre not one of those people who gets out of the car and starts yelling." Shit, I was so glad to be alive and unharmed, How could I be mad? The car, on the other hand is not so lucky. Both doors are mashed into the car, the frame between the doors is too which is the real hurter. A little frame damage goes a long way. The police came and took a report. Both of us are insured, thats really wonderful. In point of fact, if they decide liabilty is hers and that my car is totaled, I could be in pretty good shape considering I needed to sell the car before I go to NYC anyway. I keep icing my neck waiting for it to hurt, and hearing the voice of the Collision One Autobody guy being like "Are you really ok? That was a hell of an impact!" Ill be at the chiropractor tomorrow for an exam to make sure.
So its great that the insurance is covering a rental car for me. But its really too bad that its a Ford Focus. Not only because the focus hasnt a MODICUM of style, and not only because I have to walk around to each door and lock it by hand, but maybe if I had never driven before I would think the focus drove smoothly, but after two plus years of driving a Lexus, the jerky steering and touchy brakes are so SO unsatisfying. Not to mention it feels like a tin can, has rollemup rollemdown windows and a fucking TAPE DECK. Why are they even making new cars with tape decks? Who is out there buying music on tape? Are there people who shop for music exclusively from the spinning tape displays at 7-11's and truck stops? To avoid seattle radio, I'm relegated to scrounging for music from my late 80s and 90s tape collections, which puts me listening to Jimmy Sommerville and Bronski Beat, Tracy Chapman, Edie Brickell, The Smiths, Seal, Janis Joplin, Depeche Mode, Tears for Fears, Ziggy Marley, old Mary J Blige and the Pharcyde. And mix tapes, the ones we all used to make for each other all the time. Mostly from people I dont even know anymore. A forced trip down memory lane in a Ford Focus. Ill be calling monday and requesting an upgrade considering that Im accustomed to a luxury vehicle. ;)
This kind of segways us into memorabelia, which I didnt finish from last posting. I should know by now that I never finish anything that sayse to be continued. Id always ratehr start anew than pick up where I left off. Even if the topic is the same. Byt anyway memeorabelia is a joy and a pain. Alll these pictures, cards letters tchotchkes, receipts, ticket stubs flyers wristbands fortune cookie fortunes and mementose of bygone people places and times. If youre anything like me, you have to revisit these physical vestiges of the past periodically or find yourself bereft of all that love loss and life that has come before. It all gets erased by the whitenoise snowblanket of years that keep lining up between now and then.
Poring over the pictures and words, little reliquaries for your dead prior selves you can conjure just that breezy little heart clench, a shadow of feeling not even a real memory, of the rich emotion and experience you had at that the time of that thing's currency.
The thing about those momentos is, put them all together and they weigh a shit-ton! Keeping just the pictures alone you might as well cart your 1974 Marigold Amana top loading oven and four burner electric range with you wherever your carefree spirit desires. There is no way I will be able to wholesale get rid of all of it. My mom taught us never to get rid of pictures, that youll always want them later (but I cant store them at her house though! tampers with the feng shui! Aint that a bitch!) so ill allow myself a box of pics and a box of other various reminders. To that end I had to go through my boxes of notebooks and papers from college. It was a very unsettling experience. I read a couple of papers and was dismayed at my rather sharp dropoff in intellect over the past five years. Considering ive done nothing more challenging academically than fill in a bubble im suprised I can still spell and put together sentences coherently. A fact I chalk up to learning english at such an early age. But seriously, I read a paper from a political islam class I took about the 1997 elections in Iran. Not only was it really quite good but if youd told me it was written my Joe Shmoe from Kokomo I woulda beleived you because I dont remember a dadburned thing about it! All Im left with is the name of the president, the terms hojatelislam and and velayat-e-faqih, and the fact that a lot of young people voted. It was a ten page paper!!! Very upsetting. Im afraid to look at my honors thesis.
Oh well, I do a killer rollerset and can tell you what onychomycosis looks like. Thats just as good as an understanding of international political economy! Right?

Memorabelia is a Double Edged Sword

I contracted a hacking cough the day of my last day at robert leonard. Ive been really enjoying the Robitussin DM, though. I must say. I know what all those RoboCops in high school were making such a fuss about. Its like legal heroin! Take two teaspoons and be asleep like the dead in under five minutes. Not sleeping heavily enough that I couldnt be awakened by one of my client's baby's moms calling me to accuse me of sleeping with her man-child, my lock client, after she dug my number out of his backpack. Will the fun never stop? But, The plot thickens! So, this is the guy I met through Romy, whose babys mom ripped me a new one outside of school. Turns out this kids ex and romy's ex are cousins! Hey There! looks like psycho runs in the family. I gave her a 30 second counseling session when she called to apologise for playing on my phone until 1 o clock in the morning (ringer off!) and told her that she better focus on her future and herself instead of some man that has her acting crazy calling grown women in the middle of the night. She was like youre right, its been seven years though, how do I get over him? I said she better get comfortable with feeling some grief and take small steps towards reaching personal goals. What can I say, i was feeling a little overcompassionate after I woke up disgustingly early (perhaps a not so fantastic robitussin side effect) and watched montel. He had this woman on who had been sleeping in bed wiht her fiancee of two weeks when a bullet from her next door neighbor (who came home drunk and CLEANED HIS GUN at FOUR IN THE MORNING)came through her wall, entered her body through her arm, nicked her spinal cord and paralyzed her. Her adorable fiancee never left her side, despite the fact that they were 20, and married her two years later and she is now 4 months pregnant and still in a wheelchair. She dropped all charges against her stupid careless neighbor (said she didnt want to keep hate in her heart...) and now leans on him for support so she doesnt have to bother her husband all the time while he is at work. Ok? two things 1. We are never safe and nothing is garanteed 2. I should not be allowed to watch daytime TV alone. I started the long and arduous process of culling yesterday. I sat on the ground going over pictures, letters and papers trying to decide what i could part with and what memory augmentation I would want to pour over when Im an octogenarian. TO BE CONTINUED.

Bittersweet beginning and end, Red Wind Casino and the Jacuzzi Party.

This week, I actually worried there might be something wrong with my feet. They hurt so intensely that after the Beres Hammond concert on Wed night, i hobbled back to my car, even wearing sneakers. But, on thursday when i took my first painful step out of bed onn the way to a day of pedal discomfort at Robert Leonard, I realized that It probably had something to do with being upright nearly 20 hours a day for four days in a row. Monday and tuesday I assisted Glynne, the makeup artist for whom I do wedding hair during the summers, at a photo shoot in Yelm. We had to be there at 5AM. Yelm is east of Olympia, and actually to be precise, I dont think we were in Yelm proper as we were at the Red Wind Casino on the Nisqually reservation. Glynne picked me up at three thirty AM so we could get coffee and not be late. I got in bed early but couldnt get to sleep before eleven. The shoot was an advertisment for the Red Wind Casino. I had never been to a casino before and was pretty positive that i hadnt been missing too much. Day was breaking as we drove through the skeleton crew of trees that logging left along side the highway to obsure the massacre of the forests, even on the rez. We showed up at about the same time as the wardrobe lady, a middle aged woman whose cuteness diminshed with each disparaging comment she made about herself and her career. After a slew of self putdowns about her hair, her thighs (a TINY woman,) she actually said that she was having her lifelong dream of earlobe reduction surgery and that after that she was sure that she'd have the self confidence she was lacking...her earlobes were exactly like mine except WITHOUT the scars I have from ill conceived peircings. SHe was totally serious. As Amani once said to a Vivaceite whose good looks paled next to his annoying personality: "You get less charming every time I see you."Then "the talent" arrived. I resent that term, is everone else NOT the talent? Only the people who have nothing else to do but show up, get made up, dressed and pull their teeth back from their lips when the light flashes are referred to as talent? Lets call the photographers and stylists talent and call them the models or something. On Mon the hired talent was an older bellevue couple, conservatively stylish and average looking, with nice smiles. The second day it was a pretty young blonde woman with a narrow face, a vey energetic redhead with an infectious smile and a hopelessly handsome, young looking thirty something man with salt and pepper silver hair who could have given richard gere a run for his money in the photogenic category. THe rest of the players in the shots were the young employees of the casino. Four local white Yelm girls, one short round and flawlessly beautiful indian girl, and a very muscular young man of mixed race who was totally ripped with high yellow skin and green eyes. From the looks of it, and judging by the (lack of) competition, that brother probably gets more ass than he knows what to do with. The girls were hopelessly inappropriately dressed with low rise jeans and tank tops revealing tribal and butterfly tattoos on lowerbacks, navel peircings. Their hair was uniformly long, fine and striped with blonde highlights. Exept for the indian girl who had her hip lenth black hair in a braided bun the second day after I braided it to get it out of the way the first. She was the dealer, she and a charismatic asian man named Dong traded off. Waiting in front of the huge flashy lodgestyle casino, complete with circular driveway and parking garage, stray dogs scuttled by, carless young indian kids walked down the road to one of the mobile home parks or ranch style houses that lie along the highway, reminders that we were on a reservation. The ad exec who booked all of us is a business minded, buxom, young czcech woman and the photographer a funny silver templed jewish looking guy who made "the talent" smile by saying things like "c'mon! were having a blast! Losing money is so much fun! I could stay here forever!" Glynne and I did everyones hair and makeup by 6:30 ish then perfected and smoothed so that we could change their looks for the second shoot and be out of there by the time the casino opened by 9. The talent looked perfectly goomed and ecstatic to be gambling. One of the girls who looked like a mini-Gisele and the yellow brother were clearly, ahem, involved, and it was so funny to watch all the internal communication between all the kids. they were good, though, very professional and cute. The casino on the other hand was exquisitely depressing. The indian theme is weird; medicine creek deli, chinook lounge, sqaw giftshop. The predominantly white trash and indian employees, all when asked said, i must say, that they loved their jobs, i wonder if there were jobs to love before the casino opened though. They are in the middle of nowhere. By 8:50 as we were wrapping, there were people lining up at the doors. Mostly retired people, all ages were clearly operating on low or fixed incomes with sweatpants, unkempt hair, mostly unsmiling. In stark contrast to the grinning, gleamingly coiffed, hwp talent that we had just captured playing roulette and slots with such wild and enthusiastic abandon. When I came back through the main doors to get the steamer, the waiting crowd showd signs of real agitation that I was being let in. I assured them that they werent open yet and I was just retreiving my things. WHen I asked them what the advantage was to getting there early, they told me they wanted to make sure they got on certain machines. Lucky machines I guess. I couldnt get the steamer in the car fast enough. Dont you see the big fancy new buildings? Does your house look that good? Dont you see the owners' expensive cars and nice shoes? Dont you notice the overflowing drinks and cornucopia of fried food and big steaks? THE HOUSE IS WINNING!!! ITS WINNING!! AND YOURE NOT WINNING, IN FACT YOURE LOSING!! Youre losing your money, your time, your fitness, your self eteem, your employablity, your credit, your kids, your dreams. My dad told us when we were very young that gambling was the worst form of robbery, because it gave poor people false hope while it took everything. It would let you taste a small success and then leave you with less than nothing. My great grandfather, who I never knew, on my dad's side, had a gambling problem, so it was just one of those things that "we dont do." I am so glad. What a charade. And its all on Indian land, that is just the worst. Why couldnt we negotiate some other, healthy thing that they could have a monopoly on? Why cant Theme parks or movie theatres only be located on reservations? Let the palefaces be responsible for the sins of gambling. Yeech.
Other notes about the Beres Hammond show, besides that my feet were killing me. First off; it was fan-fucking-tastic. Really. And Ill be the first to say that most live reggae sucks. His backup singers are amazing, he has a voice like a soul-angel, and the band was inspired and perfectly arranged.
Secondly, I did the electric slide on stage with Marcia Griffiths, queen of roots dancehall. What could I do?? Of course I know the electric slide! She was like "Who een heyre cyan do the eelectric slide?" "Yuh gwaan tell me nuhbody fi Seattle know deh eelectric slide?" I couldnt just leave her hanging, about to do her biggest hit thinking that no one here can do a dance that hit the floor TWENTY freaking years ago. So, I did it. With one other girl, a black girl who kept messing up. I had to stop us completly and make the crowd count to the one and restart. Marcia danced with me. It was fun. And funny. And a 60+ Jamaican dread asked Chloe for my phone number afterward. Hello? No!! Thirdly, in the middle of the show my attention was drawn to a somewhat handsome man wearing a BEAUTIFUL suit with a hankercheif which matched his tie and gorgeous pointy shoes. I told him he looked nice, we chatted. He was a New Yorker (of course) in town for business for a couple weeks. I gave him my number withthe hopes that hed make a good new york connection. He called me the next day to invite me to his JACUZZI PARTY with some of his homies and suggested (get this!!) that I should bring some of my GIRLFRIENDS and that it would be crackin!!!! What the hell do you think this is?? Girls gone wild Seattle? Do I look like a ho, or more specifically a madam, for your sausage fest hottub at the Fairmont!! NO THANKS!! Everyone is a complete disappointment. It leads me to believe, though, that invites like that are often successful! Bastard. He shouldnt dress so nicely, it was false advertising. Ariel pointed out that bastards come in all kinds of wrappers. I knew that. It was just an unpleasant reminder. He has since called SEVERAL times, even after my chilly message turning down his invitation, for tourism information with questions like "are there any good restaurants in the underground city?" Yeah, lots, bastard. Theres a brand new Bahama Breeze down there, and a Ruth's Chris.
Friday was my last day at school. Estelle brought me a card and a box of chocolate covered matzohs, :) and said "So, youre leaving the fifteenth, so youll be free the night of the fourteenth to give me my last cut? Or we could do it while youre waiting in the airport, you wont haive a thing to do!" Shes great. Mrs Alexander was sad and didnt want to get out of my chair. I will miss her the most. I'll be keeping in touch though, and Im gonna make sure I see her before I go. She gave me ten dollars and told me to go have a drink. Abena and Camille came in and sat at my station and chatted just like we always did, exept it was the last time. It was a very weird and nostalgic feeling. I cant beleive Ill never have to ask Ms V to check my cut again! It wouldnt be so bad if I werent moving, but I know I wont talk to most of these people again, and its been an intense year and a half together. Hopefully one of us will be organized enough to keep track of where everyone ends up so we can have a reunion one of these days.
I iced my feet and got a couple of good nights of shut eye. Im feeling a lot better. Aside from wanting to crack Crystal (the embittered and trashy other assistant) in the grill, robert leonard is a blast. I love watching becca and my cuts are better by leaps and bounds. I assisted Luke with a thermal reconditioning treatment on tuesday, an excruciatingly long straightening process which doesnt destroy your hair but takes out all whisper of wave and curl. THe key is, and this is why its called thermal, you flatiron the hair pin straight BEFORE you neutralize and after the relaxer (which smells like perm/ass) has processed, so the cystine bonds in the hair are reset straight, then you neutralise the dry straightened hair, cement the bonds and TA DA, your hair looks really weird and un-naturally straight! Thatll be $500 dollars please! I was there with him until 7 and we started at three.
I will be at RL Tue and Wed then...I"M DONE!! I have 14 hours left until 1650! Heavenly Father. Im not sure what to do next, Im considering Piracy..

My Final Hours

There was a fight over me at the desk on Friday morning! Ms Alexander, as you know, has me from nine thirty until noon every friday morning. Somehow someone at the front desk told another one of my regulars that she had a mani/pedi/facial with me at ten. I kind of saw trouble coming because I was at the desk on Thursday and saw her name on Abena's books but I knew that a. Abena wasnt going to be at school (DSHS hadnt paid for her daycare, her baby's dad had put their range rover up as a bail bond so when she traded it in at the auction for a far more practical minivan, it turned out it was owned by the bondsman, which aforementioned ni**a neglected to mention, and her stepmom didnt make the payment on the minivan that she promised to make after said ni**a cleaned out their bank account and left her without the car note money. SO the van is repo'd and she has 3 kids with no daycare and ONE week of school left...m'kay?) B. my client thought her appointment was with me, cause she had made a comment about it when she came in earlier in the week for a touch up with Sha'lana.
Anyway, she came in exactly as Mrs A was at the desk, and said "I'm here for my appt with Vivi." At which point Mrs A's already posessive hackles rose and (although i dont know exactly what she said) she brought my other client to near tears telling her that she ALWAYS sees me on fridays and that she was going to have to think again if she thought she was going to see me that day! Both of them felt the other was so indignant and rude, it was difficult to navigate. I tried to get my other client, Katherine, a middle aged black woman who just finished her BA in literature at the U and loves me because she can talk to me about chaucer and milton while Im doing her relaxer (which she gets far too often causing her hair to remain the same awkward broken off length month after month even though she wants so badly for it to grow out,) I tried to get her to get someone else to do her appt but she was so shook that she left. I think she came back and made another appt with me for next friday cause I saw her on the books later. It took me about 20 minutes to get Ms A to stop talking about the nerve of that lady to think she had me for a Friday morning, like the world prepares for her rollersets with her on a weekly basis! I love her. I gave her a haircut, which she was very nervous about even though she asked me to do it. She picked out all these picutures of really short cuts and then (even though I predicted this and so left her hair twice as long as the pics) kept turning her head and saying "dont cut me bald, now, I dont want scalp showing!" and " Ive never had my hair cut without Ms V supervising." It turned out well, a lot better with more shape. Relaxed hair just does nothing for me. Its good practice I supppse.
I also saw Romy on Friday! He came back in to pick up the remains of his kit, whatever his sick girlfriend (remember when she cursed me out in front of the school for "smirking" in her direction??!!) hadnt confiscated. He's working as a nonunion longshoreman, which is a pretty good gig, i guess. His girl only lets him talk to their daughter on every other harvest moon sunday when the wind blows from the east, even though she has remarried and moved to Florida. What a see-you-next-tuesday! He came in with an exeptionally cute friend who wanted his locks twisted, no arguments here! Call me anytime!:)
I then cut AC's hair, waxed Chloe's legs and left early to go to a baby shower for the facilities manager at Beelzebub's University Village. It was surreal. Everyone was telling birth stories. I chimed in with mine which, admittedly, isnt so warm and fuzzy. The state of neonatal care in NYC in 1976 wasn't the tender loving Disney special that it is now...I dont think the term birthing suite had been coined and the concept of a whirlpool labor tub was still quite a ways down the road, if you left the hospital with the right baby, you could consider yourself lucky. Anyway, I'm telling it and every one is like, "great baby shower story!" "Jeez, why would you tell her something like that?" Like just because I mentioned that they put my mom in the room with two people who were recovering from 1976style abortions and then the cart with my blood samples on it got stolen after they kept me from her all night and told her I screamed the whole time, that that was going to happen to this woman! Or that was going to scare/depress her to where she'd regret even getting pregnant? I guess they want to make life seem all warmandfuzzy all the time. Even though the general manager lost her first baby in its infancy and everyone knows it and said nothing about it. Denial. It aint just a river in Egypt. So I just shut up, had a root beer float, listened to why it is SO important to have a wipes warmer if you have a boy and how indispensable this touch and glow nursing nightlight is, how epidurals have come a long way because now you can feel your feet, and thought about how women in rural India go out under a tree by themselves and give birth with no pain medication and hopefully walk back to the village with a living child.
August first is my last day behind this desk. It has served me very very well. Aside from paying my bills it has afforded me several garenteed hours behind the computer without which I seriously doubt I would have garnered the discipline to write on a weekly basis. I will not miss it however and plan on never having enter data into an excel spreadsheet ever again.
I will be at Robert Leonard three days a week and at school only on fridays for the next two weeks and then, dear reader, i will have reached the magic 1650 hours that WA state mandates for its cosmetologists. I need to register to take the beauty bar. I may as well do it now even though Ill be practicing in New York and my WA licence will do me no good. I heard its a real pain in the tuchas to get liscenced in NYC, so that should be an interesting experience. I guess Im going to keep writing this little journal we've been sharing all this time. I cant imagine that things will be getting LESS interesting and now it'll be the Seattle contingency that will need to be kept in the loop. I wonder if anything could be as hilarious as this school has been. One of my clients gave me a beautiful belated birthday gift of a how to write for writers type book by Anne Lamott called Bird by Bird, and Me Talk Pretty Someday, by David Sedaris. Maybe I'll even become a better writer. At least I will reclaim my previous semi-literate state abandoned for these hairy purposes.
The fourth of July is tomorrow and while I can hardly whip myself into a patriotic frenzy, I am glad not to have a british accent or have to wear petticoats and eat tiny watercress sandwiches with the crusts cut off like all british people have to do (I saw pride and predjudice, no thanks!) Thanks American independant spirit! I give it up for not being a colony. Now if we can just justify the whole smallpox blanket thing...

The Impatient Native's Guide to Seattle Driving

Here it is, the long awaited tip sheet for anyone who has wept openly on montlake boulevard thinking, "I can see a stretch of open road in front of these two solid rows of cars! why dont the people in front just drive faster?" Oh, you tender beginning Seattle driver, NEVER ask why. They will not be picking up the pace. You may as well give it up.
These hard earned pointers will help you read outrageous driving situations quickly to get you to your destination in a safe, efficient and youth preserving manner. Mess around driving in seattle without some strategy and you will look older than your years and be unemployably late with a quickness. Read on...

1. Stay out from behind anyone with a display of stuffed animals in their rear windshield. They have other things on their minds, like HSN specials and fertility treatments. AVOID, AVOID, AVOID.

2.If youre going to the "international district," park and walk. Dont make me explain.

3. When driving from a central location (u district, capitol hill etc) to the south end, realize you will be behind someone, at some point who is either in NO hurry to get ANYWHERE, or is afraid that their immigration status will be discovered should they get within ten miles of the speed limit. No worries. Try to determine the ethnicity of the driver so as to better predict their driving. Slow is universal, but a Somali woman will be drifting across lanes without signaling, so you want to pass her quickly. Mexicans will be braking randomly when they see the spedometer coming up on 30 and at street crossings, do not tailgate. Southeast asians (often driving landscaping trucks) will be turning left, even if they arent signaling, pass them before the light. Black folks may pull over to the right at anytime without warning if they see someone they know on the sidewalk. Holla! African americans are generally pretty good drivers, however there isnt a lot of blind spot checking so stay visible, and usually there is some rollin' going on, see aforementioned no hurry. So if you are really trying to get somewhere, make sure its not traffic time on the freeway (HA!) and take that route if possible.

4a. Avoid MLK Jr Boulevard at all costs. Its a freaking third world arterial, and it looks like Watts after the riots. Riddled with Potholes the size of empty koi ponds and detours that leave one lane for both directions of traffic directed only by one SVI trained flagger whose carbon monoxide levels must be reaching terminal levels of toxicity. Thanks sound transit!

5. Know your sidestreets! 75% of Seattle is not from seattle. Theyll be taking 45th, 23rd, I5, Madison and Broadway everywhere. If you dont want to be a late, old lookin' sucka, youll be found on 65th, Roanoke, Hwy 99 (esp to West Seattle! i LOVE dipping through georgetown and southpark when everone is enmyred in the parking lot that is the W Seattle Fwy, tbthht!!) and Beacon Ave S. If you live in Mountlake Terrace or Lake Forest Park, sorry. I dont go out there a lot, and thats what you get for moving that close to Everett. Try Bothell everett hwy/lake city way instead of aurora/I5.

6. If there is one car in the right lane, and fifteen in the left, in most cities youd be better off going in the shorter line right? NOT HERE! Dont let the smooth taste fool you, there is a reason no one is behind that guy! Youd be better off gettin in the full lane and depending on your quick lane change skills to pass ol' girl in the lincoln with the beanie babies in the backseat and the I'd rather be contra dancing bumper sticker. Remember, no one in the left lane is going to be competeing with you for the spot in front of her so once you nose her out, youre good to go.

7. There does not need to be an accident/lane closure/baseball game/natural disaster for the freeway to be a parking lot. All it takes are a couple canadian tourists, down from vancouver to take in the sights, wondering where you get off for the pike place market, no one sees fit to honk or pass the bastards and ta da! youve got a 45 min delay through downtown, where the freeway turns into ONE LANE under the convention center. THis is where knowing your sidestreets comes in. Just get off as soon as possible. You can be assured alternate routes will be as ghosty as downtown spokane during the RNC broadcast. If there is a baseball game, or football, just stay home. You wont be getting anywhere and your forehead will have aged a minimum of eight months by the time you find a parking spot.

8. The "Deuling Slowpokes" effect. It seems that truly slow drivers compete with each other, where there is one lane headed up with Dr. 20mph, there will usually be another equally snail-like car in the other lane, afraid, i imagine that should he overtake the slowpoke in lane 1, he'll be the sad sack who gets the ticket (somebody tell these people that you have to EXCEED not REACH the speed limit to be in contempt of the law!)Unfortunately, there is no escaping the dueling slowpokes. Your best bet is to drive a not very powerful car so it isnt racing under you to go more than 20mph (a good bet for any seattle driver, anything over 4 cylinders is just frustrating) and have a great stereo. That is so key, no wait is too long if it sounds like R. Kelly is right behind you telling you he can hear your body calling...

9. Dangerously Cautious. This one is close to my heart as my mom is a perfect example. Imagine: You are on a large arterial, you approach an unmarked intersection, the crossstreet is small, but yes, cars do travel on it, they however usually have a stop or yield sign. You do not. However, you come to a nearly complete stop to make sure no one is entering the arterial with whom you could potentially collide. Now it sounds like safe and cautious driving, but in actuality, its a recipie for a ten car pile up! Its the worst thing driving can be: UNPREDICTABLE. Nobody thinks youre going to make a full stop coming up John from broadway just because tenth crosses it! Dangerously cautious leads to an irritatingly righteous driving attitude (if everyone were as careful as I am there would be no casualties!), and to totally sporadic and unpredictable driving conditions. Areas of highest concentration: Wallingford (lesbian parents are notorious), Laurelhurst/U.Village/35th area, Seward Park. Beware! Dangerously cautious often afflicts in combination with slowonthehomestretchitis. A dangerously cautious driver who drives at an almost normal pace while on arterials slows laughably when entering their neigborhood of residence. Be especially careful in fully residential areas like the ones mentioned above.

9a. With further reflection and feedback from other impatient natives, it has become clear that the Dangerously Cautious element is really the crux of the Seattle Driving Problem (SDP.) It is a many tentacled monster. For instance, my Sister just called me and reminded me of the unique driver pedestrian relationship here in the emerald city. Seattle drivers stop for pedestrians at all costs. In fact, my sister was compelled to remind me about it because she had just done it. Having grown up here, even knowing how stupid, blandly, meaninglessly kind and dangerous it is, she just cant help herself. Drivers will come to a screeching halt, causing rear ending, t-boning, endless backups and delays just to allow a hale bodied walker to get across an unmarked, non crosswalked street at that very moment. In point of fact, you can see the irritation on the PEDESTRIAN's face as the driver "politely" interrupts the flow of traffic for them. I know from experience what the person is thinking; "Christ, just keep moving, just go! I dont mind waiting! I could cross in a second after everyone passes! You worry about you, Ill worry about me! Argh, fine, I'll go. Yeah, Thank you, Thanks so much!"
Also I neglected to mention a key player in the SDP which is the misunderstanding that cars do not both turn and maintain acceleration at the same time. Apparantly, King/Peirce and Snohomish County drivers ed programs are propagating the misinformation that power steering only works in concert with the brake pedal. If you are behind someone who is mysteriously slowing to a near stop, they are probably (without signalling of course) preparing for the weighty challenge of a right turn. Pass immediately.

10. Backing up, backing out, and parallel parking. Most people in Seattle arent actually driving, theyre just operating the car. That means when it comes time for some fancy footwork,involving gear changing and over the shoulder looking, WATCH OUT! They will be parking in the middle of two spaces, so get where ever youre going early and prepare to pay just to avoid the "why couldnt they have just pulled up two feet and I could have parked behind them!" feeling. For god's sake be careful in parking lots. As soon as its time to go, its time to go. She may have sat there reapplying her mascara for ten mins while you waited for that spot but she didnt notice you were there and she WILL be backing into you if youre less than two minivan lengths from her seqouia. Thats another thing, people have no idea of the dimensions of their car. Just give a wide berth even if they dont need it, cause they think they do and youll just end up having to back up so they can have four extra feet on each side. Also, White people WILL give you the finger as they pass you if anything in the driving interaction didnt go as they would have liked. Hey, they dont know you so who cares? Apparantly human dignity is less important than getting out of the Harvard Market parking lot at your own speed. But theyll stop for you at a crosswalk though, no matter what! Youll be crossing in style! And like I said, if youre going to the international district, park and walk. Just do it.

Well, there it is. Just a beginning, but if you follow those guidelines, you can expect to see fine lines and wrinkles decrease by 25% within six to eight weeks. And who knows, maybe someday we will actually be able to think of public transportation as a viable option instead of a knee slapper. Until then, good luck seeing over the Denali in front of you and check out Magnolia Hi Fi for a new sound system, the S-Curves never sounded so good!