11.19.03 - 12:12 p.m.

Quotes that were very funny at the time:

"I finally ran him over." -- Matt, re: the Pump-Action Pimp

"This is the last one and then I'm gonna change my pants." -- Dave, re: Jump and Curse or some other X-Box time-waster

"Team 'My Ass'" -- Dave

The first morning back after vacation is so depressing. Turning on the water to your own shower, sleepwalking through the routine as if you never left. Then you go to work and realize that absolutely nothing has happened in the five days since you left the office. (Oops, forgot to disable the "time freeze" switch when I turned off my computer last Monday.) I am seriously doubting the existence of our photo department right now.

Enough. It's pretty bad when you find yourself nodding reflexively, all, "oh, yeah, so true!" while reading a Halle Berry article. Yes, I'd rather be in a situation like many of the folks I met in the past week -- not worrying about a longterm paycheck but chasing different jobs around the world, having a steady paycheck in a city that allows me to afford a two-floor house instead of an apartment, having a larger network of friends in the area than just two.

But I do have a steady job, boring and repetitive as it may be. And though I'd rather be busier and using my brain cells for something other than reading the Star and TV Tattle, it is nice to not have the higher-ups breathing down my neck at every turn. And our apartment has its faults, but we can still afford digital cable and a few nights out for dinner. And I have Dan, who is a much more responsive roommate than a cat.

It's just that I wouldn't mind a clearer sense of purpose or an actual sense of ambition once in a while, instead of just blindly watching the months shuffle past. And I would eventually, someday, like to have a cat in the house.

Look at me. This entry was supposed to be about fun times and raising hell in Seattle, and instead it devolves into another poor-me diatribe. OK. No more. The problem is, I never know where to begin when recapping entire vacations, so I end up with disjointed in-joke list. (See quotes above.)

We went to Sur La Table by the market and bought a cheese slicer. We walked around the market, looking in vain for Kerry's name on one of the bricks, and saw Ty Pennington (actually, 'twas I who spied him, with my pseudo-celeb-stalking eye) walking in front of us with his cell phone and his agent. We went on the Underground Tour, but did not see concrete evidence of any Mole People. We rented a Jaguar, which was indeed fast but reminded me of my grandparents' car. We let Fiona, the somewhat snotty GPS system, get us lost around Bellevue and Belltown. We watched 747s being made.

We ate at Cascadia, Fish Club (just apps and not much you wouldn't find at Olives, but the dinners looked fabulous), Dick's Drive-In, Tap House, drank too much beer at Kells and snagged way too much snack food from the parlor at Cedarbrook. Loving the "raid the pantry" option at these conference centers. I drank only two shots of the foul concoction known as "Red Eye." I ate clam strips at a burger place in Everett, reminding me why I try not to let myself eat clam strips. I only ate steamers once, even though I was tempted by them at every turn.

We lugged only two bottles of wine back on the plane, our luggage did not get lost, and the car service was prompt. Survivor was successfully taped and waiting for us when we got home. It was a very good trip.