Girl On The Wing

Panicked slightly, took a breath and entered credit card number. Clicked 'Submit'. Result? One plane ticket for September 10th.

No turning back now...

Bumbershoot 2006

Often I’ve said to myself, “I feel a severe deficiency in my life of highway driving in a hot car.” How do I rectify this? By asking a friend to haul her cookies to Seattle with me for an extended weekend of live music, Americans and shopping at Target.

Roadtrip! Woohoo!

Ahem.

This is obviously a post in hindsight - if this was supposed to be a travel blog at its inception, then I have been neglectful in omitting my Labour Day trip to Seattle. Why? Because it was all kinds o’ fabulousness, albeit exhausting. And it was travel - 12 hours each way, driving whilst half awake, if that ain't travel I don't know what is. My partner in crime was my amiga and ex-roomie R - fellow music lover and owner of a vehicle with clearance for highway driving. My Jeep (RIP) wouldn't have gotten us past Nanton.

The Frank Slide, just before Crowsnest Pass. Mountain collapses on the mining town of Frank in the early 1900's. Hundreds die. Creeps me out every time I drive through here, thinking about the crushed bones atrophied under the rocks. And maybe now you're creeped out, too.


A&W in Cranbrook, B.C. As per the sign, it's comforting to know that if I ever desire a change of profession, I could pour rootbeer alongside surly teens for travelers.


After a 12 hour drive through Washington, mostly in the dark, we hit our hostel in downtown Seattle at 2am. I love hostels. Quick and dirty and efficient. The next morning we roamed around the harbour area and Pike Place market to get a feel for the city. I love this shot because it reminds me of Douglas Coupland's Microserfs and the characters's collective obsession with highway construction.

By the harbor, someone had clearly taken off his shoes and gone his separate way.

The World Fountain, or something like that, at the Seattle Center, home of Bumbershoot. The weather, as a side note, was phenomenal and to the best of my knowledge the Pacific Northwest is consistentally hot and sunny.

Who knew Debbie Harry and Blondie still had it? I sure as hell didn't. Anyone who can pull off lime green spandex gets a shout out.

Our yellow-skirted friend here (centre), referred to as 'Yellow Skirt', danced in the blazing heat for the full set. Why she didn't pass out half way through still baffles me. I don't know what she was on, but must be some pretty powerful stuff.

Spoon. We ate dodgy tacos and listened to the first of three Gnarls Barkley covers for the weekend. Everybody loved the "Crazy".

R., lounging in style during Of Montreal.

Between the afternoon and evening shows, we went back to the harbour to escape the crowds. Gratuious sunset shot.

Badly Drawn Boy, surprisingly amazing and enjoyable.

Pike Place Market, just a step or two from the hostel. Claustraphobia, anyone?

What would we do without The New Pornographers? Listen to the old ones, I suppose. *guffaw guffaw*. They kicked all kinds of ass at this show. Probably the best I saw them all year. And the drummer was having the best time out of anyone.

"There's always money in the banana stand." - George Bluth, Sen.

Mates of State. Super fun.

After a boring show in a poorly chosen venue in the Seattle Center, I waited impatiently in line for Copeland for what seemed like 1000 hours. It was, in reality, only 1.5. There I crouched like Quasimodo, looking adorable/horrible with sore feet. This was all for my brother, the die hard Copeland fan. They were unpleasant wankers. I was incredibly unimpressed. I realize that record labels make you do stupid things, like sign albums, but muster a little pleasantness, yeah? Hmph.

Rocky Votolato. *birds singing, sun shining, la-di-da* Hey, the heart wants what it wants.

The final evening of the festival, we decided to support Feist, a fellow Calgarian. Pretty low key, but it was a good way to wrap up.

Our last night at the festival, one final shot reminiscent of the unrepaired Hubble Telescope.

We took an extra day in Seattle after the festival to squeeze in some necessary shopping. This trip made me think a lot about consumerism. I beaked off about it here. I may have issues with globalization/corporatism, but that certainly doesn’t stop me from gleefully tossing money at the red-shirted cashiers at Target. Sadly, all that American stuff is such an irresistable novelty to us Canucks. Teeny tiny Altoids? Diet Cherry Vanilla Dr. Pepper? The American junk food machine is a veritable enticing behemoth.

I wish I had a picture of our one hour in Couer D'Alene, ID. We needed fuel for both vehicles and humans and decided to fuel the humans at Taco Bell. It was baking hot that day and I stood in the parking lot, heat radiating from above and up from the asphalt. The sky was the endless pale blue that occurs in extreme heat, and it was flat flat flat as far as I could see. My dominant thought at that moment was, "If I was a teenager and lived here, I'd probably want to kill myself". Oddly enough, I was harassed for being Canadian by a couple of teenage guys while eating a bean burrito (I don't remember how it came up) but it took a lot of self restraint to keep from saying, "Hey, don't you realize you live in Couer D'-freaking-Alene, meat heads? Do you really think that's better than being Canadian???" But why use my disdain to pique self-loathing in young men? I don't want that on my conscience.

The reason I was forced to lie to customs? This messenger bag. So maybe it cost more than my monthly grocery budget, but it was meant to be. Love at first sight. Our eyes (and star) met across the crowded thoroughfare and my heart was stolen. Part of the reason my frugality lost out was the adorable couple that owns Persnickity Designs. Both so eager and helpful, I was supporting humanity by purchasing this lovely thing. At least that's what I keep telling myself...

So long, Seattle. If I'm not already in Glasgow, maybe next year?

Hello City

I'm gettin' outta this one horse town...however I am fairly certain that there are several horses in this town as opposed to just one.

September - a new country?

This city.Home of this band.

Should be interesting. Six months to go...