I know it's been forever, but the strangest thing happened to me yesterday. I realize that my last entry here was about how I wanted to treat even my home as though it were foreign to me, but yesterday it actually hit. Hard. Walking around the U District I passed a woman posting the daily special at her kebap shop, and taking in a deep breath of second hand smoke from some Ave-rat hipster, I was brutally thrown back to Europe. Since that moment, I can't get the feeling out of my head that I'm seeing everything for the first time and that it's all completely new and foreign.
And just now my world shrank a few more sizes, when listening to "my recommendations" on Last.fm... Los Delinqüentes, a band from Jerez de la Frontera, playing "Chiclana." These moments are my favourites. What gives a better feeling than stumbling across a tie to your own most-beautiful-most-loved place ever?
Additionally, I must say that this weekend has been the greatest ever. (Aside from the Swollen concert Thursday night, which...actually, let's not even go there.) Friday night I went to Ocho, a tapas joint in Ballard (I am so in love with Ballard) with patatas bravas and la carolina to die for. The restaurant itself is tiny and packed to the brim with people (suffering from the most debilitating nostalgia, too?) but the struggle for elbow-space is a good one: amiable and punctuated by the happiest smiles.
As if that wasn't enough, the sunshine has been truly relentless and has led me (finally) to the discovery of my building's beautiful roof. I must say that surrounded by the mountains and within sight of the Seattle skyline and lakes, I could not be happier. Well...maybe bump the temp up 3 degrees, but really I'm not complaining.
