Off The Beaten Path

In my attempt to re-discover Seattle, I googled a bunch of places that are "off the beaten path" around town. Ironically, half of the ones that I already discovered were mentioned absolutely nowhere, making me feel extra special for knowing about them. But some others looked quite enticing, so I drew up a mental map of all the spots I'll visit and explore after work. Instead, I stayed home and watched a movie. I could assign that to general laziness or being tired. But I think the secret lies in the fact that my place is exactly like one of those little-known spots around town that you just hang on to and keep visiting because they are so gorgeous.

In my city explorations I mostly seek out places with views and beautiful sunsets. Or the ones that bring out the calm and serenity in me. My apartment does both -- only in addition to everything else it's heated. The view from my windows hardly could be beat by any other place. Sitting on top of a hill and facing west, the sunsets that the house shows are astounding. And the setting around my street in the fall is nothing less than fairy-tale like. In addition, my place offers a cozy blanket, warm tea and great food. No wonder I don't want to go exploring after coming home after work!

The kinds of places I love:

The way from the bus to my house:

The sunset out of my window:

What's not to love?! :) :)

Moburg

In the two months of living in Seattle, I have successfully managed to get stuck in the rut of routine. Instead of using the time to explore the city, as I surely thought I would after moving here, I find myself going to work, coming home, and going out to the same places over and over again on a daily basis. I've stopped taking walks around downtown at lunch. I've stopped noticing coffee shops, to the point that when a friend from Canada came to visit I ended up taking him to... Starbucks. Nothing less than embarrassing for a Seattleite. I've stopped walking into random antique shops and boutiques in search of original treasures. I've stopped being fascinated.

But coffee with a friend last night rekindled my interest. We met up at Grand Central Arcade - a historic building that originally hosted Watson C. Squire's Opera house -- Seattle's first formal theater. It is now the home of a number of eccentric shops, as well as the famous Grand Central Bakery with its out-of-this world butter croissants. The Arcade is a bubble of the past where a movie-like setting of red brick walls and wooden railings meets modern day technology in the form of laptops and i-phones plopped up on the tables of mid-day snacking freelancers, researchers and interviewers.

But the most fascinating item living in the romantic lobby is actually a painting. With all creative interests filling up my life, I somehow never developed any interest in art. I've had the privilege of visiting many famous Russian museums, hosting myriads of incredible art galleries. But the sections I usually skipped to were royal fashion expositions and decorated rooms. No art gallery or single painting could ever hold my attention for longer than a few seconds, and none of them have really stood out to me enough to stick with my mind for a long time.

This said, I did have two random love affairs with artistic creations. One of them was a wooden sculpture of an ostridge with its head hiding underneath whatever surface was hosting it. When I was about 11, it was for sale at a small shop in old Riga -- my hometown -- and I went to "visit" the ostridge at least once a week until it was sold, much to my disappointment. My second love affair came my freshmen year in high school, when as part of a writing class we had to complete an assignment on abstract art. It turned out to be my most successful assignment, as the painting that I got to write about was Kandinsky's "Yellow-Red-Blue." The vibrancy of the colors, as well as the "lion head" so clearly sticking out to me from the picture, made my imagination run wild. Since then nothing has really stuck with me. Until last night when I saw THE painting hanging on one of the walls of Grand Central Arcade.

The painting depicts a foggy, dimly lit Pioneer Square station. It's empty, except for two dancers. A woman and... a rat. The rat is wearing a suit and evokes feelings of pity for having to hide in the night rather than disgust or mistrust. I couldn't stop staring at the piece in fascination, actually interrupting my friend's conversation to point it out once I noticed it. The painting stirred up real, genuine, emotion. We sat in front of it and talked about all the possible scenarios depicted for a good ten minutes. Only about three minutes into the conversation I noticed that the woman on the painting actually has rooster legs. I came up closer to the item that captured my attention after so many years of disinterest in anything paint-related. The inscription in the bottom right corner read "Moburg."

Needless to say that the next morning the Sherlock inside got the best of me, and Grand Central and Moburg were googled in all possible combinations. There wasn't much info on the latter. What I've managed to find out is only that the artists name is Bruce Moburg, and that he was a Seattle based artist who won some 1999 pi contest for postcard prints. From the looks of it, Mr. Moburg passed away on November 22, 2007, but his art can still be found "around the city." My curiosity is at it's peak as I can't wait to explore the town more in depth in search of more of his creations. I'd also love to know who is in charge of decorating Grand Central, and how they got a hold of the mouseman and one other Moburg painting.

I can imagine starting up an expensive, eccentric, and random collection. I will search for Moburgs and try to buy them off from current owners. People who come visit will be fascinated by the mouseman -- the one that started it all -- and wonder who Moburg is. It will be something my own, something unique, something Seattle-only... just like the Arcade and the painting currently hanging on its wall. But I'm thinking that will only happen once I am rich, and own a living room as big as the Grand Central Arcade patio which currently hosts the dancers in the fog... For now, I'm just happy that something managed to renew my fascination and curiosity for the city.

Bus Gossip 2

It's like the 'loudspeakers' on the bus heard me and decided to give me a present: more hilarious things to tell the world! Yesterday's conversation was over the phone, so naturally I only picked up half of it. But from what I heard I think I can extract a pretty accurate storyline. After all, what hasn't been deduced by my impeccable perception skills can be easily substituted by my imagination. The story "relayed" to me was by a younger woman, apparently on the phone with her friend. Here's enough to know about her to completely scare the crap out of the girl if you should ever meet:

Apparently she is either a very close friend of, or dating, a man who has a small child with another woman. Last week it was his birthday, for which his parents threw him a party. He asked the girl later why she didn't come, and she had to endure the awkwardness of the moment in which she told him it was because the parents haven't invited her. Apparently, the guy has shared custody of the kid and either lives at home or just drops him or her off at his parents a lot, because to answer the question whether the grandparents mind, she said that they don't because at least this way they can ensure that their grandchild is fed and has everything.

An unusual answer, but apparently the mother is slightly crazy. To save money, she disconnected electricity, which is what heats up the water in the house. In order to bathe, she boils water in pots on a stove. For lighting, she uses candles. The girl was dismayed about a lifestyle like this with two elementary school age kids in the house. (She should try living in Russia... Nothing unusual about that there!) From this I deduced that the mother also has a child with someone else.... oh the drama of life! Why the girl would want to get involved in a situation like this remained a mystery to all on the bus... Juicy as the story was, the second one she blabbed was just as good!

The girl told her friend that she doesn't work "there" anymore and has a new job now. Apparently, there was something fishy going on at "the French place." The owner was also the manager because nobody else stepped up to the position. This was annoying, because she let people go for no apparent reason. After about a month of working at the place and being very helpful, the girl got called into the owners' office and told that "it's not working out." She was given reasons that in her mind were simply irrelevant. The reasons were that her coffee service is too slow and that she stands around too much. (Is it just me, or does this sound like a pretty relevant reason?!) She was offered the option of staying on call. But apparently has found other employment. She also suspected that half of the employees at the place worked under the table, since the owner never asked her to fill out any W-2's or anything. (I think she meant W-4's though....)

I think that it's time for me to make business cards that say "read about this conversation tomorrow at this link," and pass them out on the bus. I'm sure people would get a kick out of it.

Bus Gossip

Apparently a good profession to be in Seattle is a therapist. Yes, there are several in this great city, but they all have waiting lists. And how do I know? Bus gossip. What exactly is that? It's when two friends, completely oblivious to the rest of the people on the bus, tell each other their deepest, darkest secrets, all the while thinking that nobody can hear them or is interested in what they are saying. Unfortunately, those types are usually only few on the bus, so their voices carry REALLY well, making the others interested even if they weren't in the beginning. They just have no choice. And yesterday's story was pretty entertaining.

Apparently the two friends both have only recently moved to Seattle. From what I understood, one of them was from New York (Why would someone do that to themselves?!). Both have joined meetup groups and went to several meetings around the city in hopes of finding friends. Instead, they got constantly clogged e-mails. Both have now stopped going. One of them works in a medical profession, which I know because she was talking about referring clients to a therapist. That's when the story got good.

The two women griped about how there aren't any good therapists in the city, at least that insurance covers. And how it's a shame that to see them there is a huge waiting list, and when you finally make that appointment, you never hit it off. One of them then proceeded to tell a story of her friend Katie, who, apparently, wouldn't mind her telling it because she told a room full of people. (Probably completely unaware that the entire city will soon find out!) To an open heart-to-heart about relationship issues, Katies' therapist proceeded to tell her that she has a good friend that Katie would be perfect for and that she can hook them up! After Katie didn't make any more appointments, the therapist called her and asked if it was something she said. The women went on and on about how unprofessional that was. I sat nearby "not listening" intently.

I have to say, I love when stories like this happen. And I just wish that the whole Seattle read my blog and wondered who the heck I am. Because then they would all be careful about relaying confidential information to each other on busses and trains and keep it down. And the rest of us commuters would have an opportunity to listen to our i-pods and read our literature without having to become involuntary witnesses to stories about people we've never met. No matter how entertaining they might be.

Secret Shelter

On some days a person just deserves a break. Morning comes too early, work is too hectic, financial discipline unbearable, and lunch forgotten to be made. On days like that I allow myself a little indulgence: eating out at my favorite place downtown. With the entrance being tucked away in the maze of Pike Place Market, the small Bar&Grill is actually smack in the middle of all the action. Never crowded at lunch, and almost empty, if you arrive a little before or after, the place is a people-watcher's heaven. The windows face the market, and from the height of the second floor, I can observe everything that's going on down on the street without any fear that anyone will notice. People run back and forth, homeless walk around begging for change, and tourists take endless pictures by the sign, by the fish, and by the huge metal pig placed in front of the entrance.

There's a building across the street which holds the sign "La Salle Hotel" on it. From the posters on the windows, as well as the different kinds of curtains and blinds on every floor, I have deduced that it no longer serves as a hotel. But the building almost hauntingly draws me to itself. I have walked around pike place trying to find the entrance several times now, with no luck. No online searches on the title have given back any satisfying results. The place seems depressing and sad from the outside. But my imagination runs wild thinking what the inside holds. It brings to life several scenarios:

~A hardwood floor suite with curtains on the windows and a boudoir in a dimly lit room; a cabaret performer is doing her make-up in a pink velvet robe and silk stiletto slippers. Playing in the background is an old record of classical jazz. Her emotions are all over the place: happiness from success and the anticipation of the rush that takes over her body whenever she first steps on stage is mixed with a sadness and a longing for something deeper and more meaningful. A tear glides down a perfect face as she stares in the mirror and doesn't recognize herself in the reflection.

~ A carpeted room is filled with clutter made up of books, papers, paintings and cd's. The couch is overtaken by boxes of documents, maps, and clothes. A guy in his late twenties is sitting by the couch with a pen in his hand, staring thoughtfully into the notepad on his lap. He's wearing a hat, t-shirt and corduroy pants, and hasn't shaved for a while. There's no point, since he's not planning to go outside, into the rain, and into the influence of the bustling world... It's unclear if he's a song writer or a novelist. But the thoughts he is trying to express have taken over his mind and body. He sits still, biting his pen, and concentrating on the empty lines that his heart is ready to fill but the mind isn't ready to find.

~ There's no light in the room. All it holds is an empty bed with worn-out linens that smell like grandma's closet. Lightning strikes. No one occupies this place. Somehow the room has been forgotten from the past. The furniture is still the same as it was when the place was a hotel. It sits still and silent, not giving away any of its secrets, with only the bed and dresser aware of everything that has happened within the four walls. It gives out a chilly vibe. No one has lived in it for years -- an unexplainable phenomenon on Seattle's housing market. Somehow the landlords don't care. Or maybe they have been getting rent for the place for years now from a Mr. Smith who holds the place for himself but never goes anywhere close to it. Or maybe the unit somehow slipped through the accounting cracks of a large property-management company and nobody has noticed that it has been empty for so long...

These thoughts occupy my mind every time my eyes see the sign from across the street. Before long I have to step out of my daydream and go back to work. But the forty minutes I have to muse and wonder give me the energy to deal with real life situations for the rest of the day.

The Link Experience

For any of you faithfully following my rambles, I'd like to let you know that my Salsa Saturday night more than made up for the "Off" Night on Thursday. But that's not what I'm going to talk about today. (Sorry Carlette :)

So Friday afternoon, tired as a dog, after four hours of sleep and a ten hour workday, I attempted to make it to the train that would take me home 28 minutes earlier than the next one. With five minutes to spare (hypothetically), I proceeded to catch a bus that would take me to King Street Station. Here is a little-known fact about Seattle for those who don't live or work here -- we have a metro tunnel. Yes we do. Like in any other normal large city, it runs underneath a good chunk of downtown.

My introduction to Seattle Metro came about on my first day of work, when a colleague graciously agreed to show me which bus to take to the train station. To my utter amazement, she soon dove into an opening in one of the nearby buildings. I followed her down the escalator and into the tunnel, where we found... busses. UNLIKE any of the normal large cities, Seattle's tunnel does not contain a train. The structures' mystery boggled my mind for a long time, since the tunnel actually has tracks in it intended for a train or at least a tramp. But anyone I asked who has been in Seattle for a while assured me that no such things ever ran through it. It's always been just busses. After a little research I managed to find that the tracks were installed in 2005 in anticipation of the Light Rail starting its service in 2009.

Well, 2009 is here, and the funny bus situation has finally ended for Seattle. We now have the Link -- a light rail train connecting downtown and SeaTac airport. It was exciting to walk into the tunnel one day and find the Link happily running its tests. It seemed all was well. The public was hyped, and an exciting opening day awaited Seattle on July 19th. Not being a thrillseaker, I avoided the city like the plague on opening day -- therefore I know nothing about it.

Three days after opening day I was catching a bus and noticed that the service was cancelled for "technical difficulties." How typical. Cancel AFTER you start service. But the next day when i went to catch a bus the Link was running! Yay! I finally got to ride it. So with 5 minutes to spare before my train, I happily boarded the Link -- Seattle's gateway to becoming a normal city! Troubles started when the Link started spitting out nonsense on the announcer. Within a minutes ride in the ride-free zone between University Street and Pioneer Square, it announced that we are "Approaching Westlake Center," "This is the last stop" and "You Always need a valid fare while riding the train." Then we stopped completely, and to our hearty disappointment the Link delivered its first truthful announcement: "The train is experiencing technical difficulties and will be delayed. We apologize for the inconvenience."

Seattle being the friendliest city in the U.S. (in my opinion,) Link's utterances got a conversation going. "This feels like a Disney ride!" was some people's opinion. Perhaps "Space Mountain?" Others, like me, were hoping to catch the train and nervously glanced at the clock every thirty seconds until it was crystal clear that we missed it. Still others offered stories about previous technical difficulties. All of us hoped that the electricity won't go out, and laughed at the traffic this must have been causing in the back. (What retard put a train AND a load of busses in the same tunnel?!) At least the Link was air-conditioned.

My first experience with the Link was... interesting. After 15 more minutes and another two stops, the Link dropped me off at the International District Station. I didn't make the early train, but I got a taste of Seattle growing into a real city.

You can find more information about the tunnel service at http://transit.metrokc.gov/tops/tunnel/tunnel-map.html and http://transit.metrokc.gov/tops/tunnel/tunnel.html

Confessions of a Commuter

Although I've complained about the commute many-a-time, it's actually not that big of a waste, considering everything goes well. If you look at it from the bright side, I've been given the gift of time. An hour each way on the bus or train, depending on when I leave, to be exact. This time has been invaluable in furthering my personal development. In one year, I've finished at least three times as many books as I've ever opened in High School and college combined!

Of course, sometimes things go terribly wrong... Here's what you need to do to be a likeable, happy commuter and avoid being hated on by an entire bus/train.

1. Smile and say good morning/day/evening to the driver. Thank them when you get off. I never realized how much it means until one driver actually commented on my "cheerful" attitude. A small courtesy goes a long way. Plus, this makes them remember you better. And the time when you forget your pass will inevitably come. Better be on a good foot with the driver then!

2. Get your pass/money/transfer ready BEFORE you get on the bus. Don't try to bargain with the driver! They're not the ones setting the rates, and all you'll get is your co-commuters and the driver annoyed. My point is, don't be holding up the line by starting to think about your fare when you're on the steps of the bus.

3. Busses and trains on the west coast are generally o.k. to chat in. However, I wouldn't advise it in the morning. That's when people catch up on sleep. But even in the afternoon -- keep your voice down. If you decide to play chess on the train, for the love of my eardrums, don't be commenting on your every move! Think to yourself. You already have a reputation for being the best: announcing it with every acquired figure just makes you look like a fifty year old idiot (who's acting five).

4. This is difficult to mention to your face but... brush your teeth in the morning. Use deodorant. People have to sit VERY close to each other...

5. If you are over thirty and hideous, please don't chat young girls up. The generous offer of personal/administrative assistant position will be laughed at and frownfully rejected. After all, we really do have the best one of THOSE already. Try CFO -- then we'll talk. Maybe.

6. If you are over thirty and hideous, and started asking questions about my bible... I WILL answer and share about Jesus with you. Please don't assume it's because I think you're cute. YOU started it. But what kind of Christianity would I be exhibiting if I just ignored your questions?

7. If planning to use the phone, once again, please be aware of how far some voices carry. Try to sit in the front -- that way only the driver will be suffering from your mindless/business blabber.

8. If you do decide to talk on the phone or to your neighbor loudly, please be aware of the fact that everyone can hear. At one point I was considering writing a book about the interesting bits of information I overheard on the train or bus. You never know who might be listening. I could be a stranger. Or I could be the best friend of that "idiot" worst boss you've ever had that you just so passionately badmouthed to YOUR best friend. In addition, dinner sounded great before you started sharing your biological problems. Oh, and I really didn't have to know that your babysitter's mother's cat gets its nails clipped at the 5th avenue groomers' that's owned by that slut who's slept with your fourth ex-husband fifteen years ago... Coincidence? You think not! (I think big time!!!)

9. If you snore, get medication. (Although that video of on youtube has been getting quite a few hits!)

10. Train is NOT a good place for excursions. Especially not the morning train. If you bring your elementary/middle school/government retirees class on board and start telling them about the history of Sound Transit... be prepared to get death stares. And yes, they are meant to make you uncomfortable. Because you just made everyone uncomfortable by waking them up!

11. Just be aware of the fact that you aren't the only person on the bus or train, and be curteous to the people riding with you. The rest is pretty much common sense.

Treasure Hunt

My posts keep getting inspired by random conversations I have with people. Lately most of my replies to questions requiring more than one sentence of response have been "read my blog." I guess I'm being lazy and don't want to say something twice, which is really a bad habit because that means I will eventually communicate with friends via blog only... definitely NOT something I'm working towards! That said, Juliet, this one's for you :)

One of the joys of living/working in Seattle, especially in the summer, is the ability to explore hundreds of shops and boutiques, especially in the Pike Place Market area. There is an awesome blog that talks exclusively about Seattle's fashion boutiques, if you are interested in fashion. (http://www.seattleboutiqueblogspot.com/) But what I am interested in is finding bargains. And that I've recently found! There is a pretty big Antique store by Pike Place (http://www.antiquesatpikeplace.com/) that has a BUNCH of designer items for sale, and most of them at a great price! My last find (well, o.k. I'll be honest. My friend Inna's last find....) was a pair of Chanel flats for $140 and a pair of gorgeous Stuart Weitzman "Pomposo" pumps for $85! I searched online to see if I can find a picture of them, but I swear the ones in the store are special edition. All the "Pomposo's" available online start at $325 and are red satin with a rose. The store's shoes are burgundy, and the rose is beaded instead of simply satin. Anyways. I am in love. But I can't buy them because I'm saving up for something more important and exciting....

Another good place for designer bargains is Alexandra's consignment shop, located on Olive, between 4th and 5th Ave. (http://www.alexandrasdesignconsign.com/) It's exclusively designer, although the younger generation will still get the thrill of the hunt -- most items are from more established clients (obviously us younglings can't afford that stuff yet. Much less would we want to sell it soon after acquisition...). Last time I stopped by though, I've found a beautiful Prada dress for $290. I later found a version of it online in another color for $800. So if you do score an item and fall in love, buy without any worry that you're being ripped off.

That said, I sound like a designer fashion freak right now. And i'm really not. The biggest item I'm after is actually a coffee cup. I'd say about seven years ago, before my family was firmly established in this country, my mom did what we thought back then was a crazy crazy thing. She spent $400 in an antique shop and bought 180 pieces of beautiful MYOTT "Royal Mail" china. We already had several sets of that very design, but it wasn't the original, and it wasn't that many items. After my mom's acquisition, our family owned a total of about 250 pieces.

Well, it was inevidable, but after the last dinner party at my house, one of the real coffee cups fell and broke. With it broke a tiny piece of my mom's heart. So now I am on the hunt for another cup. You see, most of them tend to go in a set with a saucer or even more plates. And all I need is a single cup. The sad thing is that the west coast apparently doesn't have too many available for sale. Antique dealers here haven't even heard of that particular design! But i'm still hoping that somehow the cup has trickled down into some random shop that I will one day randomly walk into... That's why I'm out hunting for new places every day now. Who knows what else I'll find in the meantime.

Random Address

I just have a few words to say to several random people encountered since yesterday...

To the guy who asked me if I "like Mexicans" and then complemented the color of my... skin. Please admire the skin on my FACE. Or don't wonder why I'm not jumping up and down at the chance to dance a second song with you. If you want to stare at people's... skin... in other areas, go to a club! If you came to a Salsa PRACTICA, behave like a responsible Salsero and stop making women feel uncomfortable with your questions and your eyes.

To the bicyclists riding to work. You are NOT a car! You might THINK that you are, but really, please do stick to the designated area designed just for you on the SIDE of the street. Traffic downtown is pretty bad as is. Cycle in YOU. And we have to try and get around without hitting the car next to us. You might wonder why on earth we would want to pass you. But here's the news: you aren't as fast as you think! Going green is wonderful and all, but until ALL of us are riding bikes on the roads please display your greenness in the BIKE LANE. (Title speak to you at all?! No? They drew a picture for ya. Look down once in a while.)

To the wonderful starbucks people who make my coffee in the morning just right: Thank you!

To Inna. You're as good as it gets! Who else can I call in the middle of the night and ask if I can crash at their place just because I'm too tired to drive home? You're appreciated girl.

It's funny how it takes paragraphs to vent and only a couple sentences to say something good to someone... You'd think it would be the other way around. I'll be working on that.

On Parking

If you already live in Seattle and work downtown, this post is not for you, as you probably take a bus to work. But if you don't live on the bus line, your company doesn't pay for parking, or you are in the interviewing process and don't know the city very well, you are most likely wondering if people really pay $26 to park all day. And the answer to that, of course, is no. They don't. (And if they do, I officially judge them...)

For about six months this problem wasn't applicable to me. I either took a bus or train to work and never had to worry about parking. But than a colleague fell in love with Salsa and tried to get everyone in the department to sign up for it. Nobody did, except me. The irony is that she only lasted a couple months. I became addicted. If you've ever done Salsa in Seattle, you'll note that the places to go out and dance aren't exactly located in prime locale. Very soon I realized that on days I have class I better take my car, or else...

For a while I parked in the cheapest "early bird" garage that crossed my path when getting off the freeway. In before 9:30, 11 hours maximum, $12 for the day. At first I parked twice a week. Then I started spending the night at a friends' house in downtown, so parking days went up to 4. Then there was a "lazy day" when I just didn't "feel like" taking the bus. So I parked pretty much every day. The total came to $60. Not that much, if you are making anything over a starters' salary. But still pretty stupid, for parking...

A wise person I know lives by the quote "people don't plan to fail, they fail to plan." I realized I gotta plan something fast, or my budget will fail miserably. So I came up with several options to lower the parking bill.

1. The garage that's NOT on your way off the freeway costs $10 before 9:00am for 10 hours. It's located on Union, between second st. and third st. Pros: This lowers your weekly parking bill by $10. (Save $520 a year and get a pair of cute shoes!) Cons: They are downright mean. If you stay over 10 hours by even 5 minutes they WILL charge you the extra $15.00. And if you try to beg for mercy the manager will yell about how irresponsible you are. (But WILL refund the money if it's really only 5 minutes and your first time. This time around I figured $15 bucks is worth the embarrassment, but I never came back to that garage...) I'm sure that if you do your research, you will find another cheap lot. I hear the one by Pike Place Market has good prices too, but I personally have never parked there.

2. If you aren't afraid to walk a block to a bus line, or if you work closer to Capitol Hill, go ahead and park in the garage on Pike and Summit. Pros: Their early bird special is $6.50 for 12 hours as long as you're in by 10:00a.m. Walk a block to Pine to catch a bus downtown and you save $27.50 a week. ($1430 a year -- enough for two months rent on a crappy one-bedroom, or a pair of Prada boots.) Cons: it will take you slightly longer to get to work than if you parked in the garage of your office building. Waking up 10 minutes earlier might be required.

3. Use this one only if you live in Northern Queen Anne. As you might know, Queen Anne Ave. becomes residential at Smith St. Parking there is un-zoned and free! Grab a spot, and catch bus 3 or 4 downtown. This is the only place that I've figured out so far, but I am pretty positive that there are more streets like this in Seattle. You just have to do a little homework and figure out which one works for you. Pros: free parking! Cons: quite a bus ride to downtown, and probably inaccessible during winter ice and snow days.

4. This solution worked best for me. Use it if you are commuting from the south (as in way further south than Tukwila...) and have time between work and whatever activity required you to bring a car after work (like Salsa.) Instead of driving into downtown, I get off exit 156 and park at Interurban Ave. Park and Ride. It just so happens that the exact time I get there bus 161 pulls up - only runs during peak hours and stops right in front of my building. You can also catch 150 - runs more often, but takes a little longer to get to downtown. For me, there are actually no cons with this option. Parking is free. (I save $60 a week, $3120 a year...) and I actually get to work faster than I would driving, because the bus takes the carpool lane, and I can't. And if you drive from the south, you know that you are guaranteed to hit traffic at the Michigan Curves. Of course, getting your car after work might take a little longer than taking an elevator down, but I have time to kill between work and Salsa anyways. So it works out.

Let me know if you have parking tricks people should know about! Leave a comment.

My Observant Creativity:

Corner Bugs

Ok, so my motivation came right back after a brisk walk to Banana Republic and back. If you work in downtown, you will know exactly what I am talking about. Every day you see them working the corners. Stop thinking bad stuff. I'm talking about the GreenPeace/ FeedTheChildren/ EnvironmentalProtection/ OtherVeryMuchNeededButNotOnTheStreetsOfSeattle charity volunteers. They are officially annoying. Don't get me wrong -- I'm not against charities or charitable giving. I contribute on a regular basis to a number of them that I find useful and beneficial to causes that I support. I'm not even against the particular charities that I mentioned above that the volunteers work for.

What I am against is having to cross every intersection trying desperately not to look up and make eye contact with that very volunteer! It is uncomfortable. It makes you feel like the meanest person ever. (It's also a hazard, as when you are looking down, you are likely to miss the poles coming at you out of nowhere until you meet with them head first). Their persistence is bordering on harassment. If they do catch your eye, they will bug the money out of you. Literally. You are bound to be talked to, asked your name, told about their charity and asked to sign up for a $50 a month donation. For the rest of your life.

What they don't understand is this: the turnover at their companies is high enough that there is a new one of them on a different corner every day. However, the people passing are still all the same! And even if each person working in Seattle was going to contribute to a given charity, it's very likely that they already have before you even got hired! None of us have money enough to sign up for a monthly $50 deduction for the rest of our lives with every single volunteer that we pass each day on our way to lunch! I'm not trying to be rude. I just want to walk to lunch once without being harassed by the corner bugs!

If you are a corner bug reading this, don't get mad at me and leave nasty comments. Try to get another job. If it happens to be in Seattle, you'll see where I'm coming from. FAST. I promise.