My Life as a Boob

Adventures in comedy, child-rearing and combinations thereof.

First we take Manhattan…erm, I mean Seattle July 19, 2009

Filed under: Uncategorized — jennywynter @ 5:09 am

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First things first, turns out the Space Needle really ain’t that big y’all. Hehe.

Mister Boob and I were reflecting on our bus ride home today about our first impressions of Seattle – I proffered that it reminded me of my first impressions of Boston. Namely in that I felt that in any other circumstance, I’d be head over heels in love with it. But given the timing of my entry into both cities coincided with just having fallen head over heels for another (New York City predecessing Boston, Vancouver falling before Seattle), the second city just couldn’t quite woo me in the same way – not through any fault of its own, mind you. Simply because I’d already been wooed.

Add to this the fact that at this particular point in the trip – almost two weeks in and with the past one pretty much being highly physical i.e. trekking all over major cities – we are all just so damn tired…and well, I don’t think Seattle’s had a very fair chance to blow our socks off.

Which is a real pity, because by all accounts it was a fabulous day. We headed downtown and then straight onto the monorail over to the very fabulous Seattle Center.

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Turned out it was Bite of Seattle, a food festival which saw crowds and crowds (I’m talking CROWDS PEOPLE!) descend upon the square, soaking up as much yummy samples as they could proffer and with rock music – and full arm tattoos – descending upon us from all sides, we felt suitably infused with Seattlian culture in one massive hit.

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Little Miss and I shared a strawberry shortcake splurge – and yes, it really was as good as it looks, thanks for asking. We left Mister and Little Master to check out the on-site skateboarding demos and investigate the entertainment arcade, while we (including Littlest) set out to check out the Music Experience Project (did I get that name right?) which included not only a sci fi exhibit featuring the original Death Star model: AAAAGGGGHHH SO COOL! but also an exhibition completely devoted to Jim Henson.

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I can’t even really do it justice, but suffice to say it featured a kermit the frog tactile wall, an interactive rockband quaintly called Mud Garden with muppets inspired by Jimi Hendrix and yes, Kurt Cobain, a wall (sadly smaller than this geek would have liked) on The Dark Crystal as well as reams and reams of original scrawlings, ideas and backstories to the man’s creations. So inspiring. And while Little Miss was into it, I just couldn’t quite convey to her just how much all of these displays really meant to me, or rather, to my nostalgia neurons.

Next stop: hooking up with the boys and heading on down to Pike Place, a very famous market on the waterfront. Sauntered round for a bit, aiming to hit the ferries, then realised just how late it was and that we were already pushing our luck with the kids holding their shizz together. Opted instead to look into that tomorrow and stroll home slowly – it was around this time that we stumbled onto an alley that after a hugely long day, made my heart SING!

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I turned to Mister Boob and said “NOW I get it.”

Mister: “Get what?”

Me: “Why people love Seattle.”

And what do you know? I’m not saying I fell head over for it, but I do believe my heart just put out it’s sign again:

“Open for Wooing.”

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2 Responses to “First we take Manhattan…erm, I mean Seattle”

  1. Rebecca Says:

    Ms Boob,
    Please don’t scare me like that again. I open your blog to find a giant baby (taller than the Space Needle) with hairy arms growing out of its sides, terrorising Seattle.

    If it wasn’t for the excellent write up that followed, I might have been afraid.
    Regards,
    Rebecca.

    • jennywynter Says:

      Dear Rebecca,

      You got it – next time we post giant baby/hairy arm combo pics, we’ll be sure to add a disclaimer beforehand. Goodness knows I find the life-size versions terrifying half the time, let alone their mutant counterparts.

      Regards,
      Ms Boob.


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