Miss Elastic Went To Sea, Sea, Sea To See What She Could See, See, See.....In Seattle!

There's an extremely obvious reason why I nicknamed myself elasticwaistbandlady. I'm a best friend to Lee's Comfort Waist pants line and a mortal enemy to belts and belt loops everywhere.

So, I purchased my plane tickets to Seattle back in March- a full 5 months ahead of the Bloggy Beach Party event. I specifically requested the window seat because I couldn't imagine having my fatty white self squeezed like marshmallow fluff between two unlucky plane passengers. Guess what? Yes. I got to play CHUNKY MONKEY IN THE MIDDLE both there and back. Yay me. Luckily, all 4 gentleman that endured sitting cheek-to-cheek with me through a 4-hour flight were gracious and kind individuals.

Have you ever seen a Carrot sprouting black hair before? I did! Carrot Jello and her lovely new black-bobbed haircut met a huffing-and-puffing sweaty me at the Seattle airport baggage claim area. Carrot then whisked me off for a tour of the little Jet City she calls home.

Pike Place Market is the must-see Seattle tourist mecca so that's where Tour Guide Carrot shuffled me off to. We would have gone to the Space Needle but they charge admission. That would not have fit into my itty-bitty vacation budget plans at all.

Ummm, at the Pike Place Market, we saw men.....in bloody aprons......... like they just wandered off the Texas Chainsaw Massacre movie set.....and they were throwing fish to and at each other in a frenzied game of Seafood Scramble which can only be seen live on the Salmon Sports Network.

The fish slapping show was okay but I was more impressed with the tantalizing smells seeping into the seaside market air courtesy of the numerous cafes and walk-up restaurants. Carrot and I dined on big fat chicken gyros from Mr. D's Greek Delicacies. Carrot's gyro dripped all over the place with the cucumbery goodness of tzatziki sauce. I was too cheap to pay the extra $2.00. Even though I wanted to, I refrained from licking the sauce off the wax paper before she threw it away. They also served the most lip-puckering glass of fresh-squeezed lemonade known to mankind. It was sour enough that I think it curdled any future breast milk I might produce. That wasn't any fluke either. We went to another food stand where I bought and gagged my way through their own competing version of The World's Most Bitter Lemonade.

I resisted on the first trip walking past the alluring, treats-stuffed window of the Piroshky, Piroshky Russian bakery. On the second market run-through, though, I caved in to temptation and split a raisin poppyseed cinnamon roll thingie with Carrot. It was piping-hot, and fresh-from-the-oven delicious!

While meandering through the chaotic downtown Seattle streets looking for a place to park, we passed the notorious Lusty Lady Cabaret at least 5 times. I like anything with "FREE" in the title, but alas, we did not spend the afternoon at the Lusty Lady despite the promise of FREE ADMISSION posted on their sign.

The first Thursday afternoon of each month is FREE ADMISSION day at the Seattle Art Museum so we elected to spend some time there instead of that naughty Lusty Lady place. We were on a mission bent on broadening our horizons and educating our artistic palettes.

Oh look, someone placed a toilet that survived a gang graffiti war right in the middle of the Seattle Art Museum showfloor. Wait, what? You mean that's one of the displays? Right.

This commodal masterpiece dates to the year 1964. If you look closely at this work of art, you'll observe the artist's fanciful rendering of coiled up turds that have survived the last 44 years. What a wondrous glory! I used to do that with brown Play-Doh as a child. Who knew that you could get paid for your turd rolling skills?

We also oohed and ahhed at a bunch of hanging art pieces that had "Well, Duuuuuhhhh!" titles. For instance, there was a hatchet buried into the top of a window frame with spoons and stuff attached to it. Oddly enough it was called, "A Window Frame With A Hatchet At The Top And Other Objects." I gotthisclose to a real live Andy Warhol. It was the one with the gun-slinging Elvis's (Elvii?) scrolled across it.

I got to take pictures of this LDS Chapel/Stake Center in the Seattle suburbs. The spire on that thing absolutely amazed me. I marveled at how it descends all the way down, smack into the middle of the foyer area. It reminded me of those giant neon arrows that restaurants and night clubs use to attract attention to their place. I told Carrot they wouldn't need missionaries in that area anymore if they would just add some blinking lights to their super-sized spire.

As promised, Carrot took me on a Value Village tour where she utilized the assistance of a marked down wheelchair with no brakes to show me around her cut-rate stomping grounds. I tried to buy us matching fluorescent-orange fanny packs from Howard Johnson's. They were only a buck! Sadly, I realized that to accommodate my girth I would have had to buckle two of them together.

I learned an ingenious little trick at Value Village: If you should ever break one of your crystal dishes you can salvage the lid by placing a piece of cut felt underneath it. The dish may be gone but the crystal lid beauty lives on!

Value Village was selling shelf-after-shelf filled with useless felt-bottomed crystal lids.

You can always find Pooh, Winnie or otherwise, down at Ye Olde Honey Bucket Port-a-Pots.

So then Carrot and I-triumphant from our Value Village foray- were tooling through the hilly suburb streets, listening to her Neil Diamond's Greatest Hits CD when we happen to look over and fortuitously see this bumper sticker slapped on the back of an old white Buick. And then, it was ON.......I told Carrot to speed up so we could get next to the car and sing Neil Diamond as loud as if we were Neil Diamond groupies who named our kids Shiloh and Sweet Caroline just to honor him. Carrot cranked up the Carrot Van stereo and we belted out Solitary Man at the top of our lungs with the van windows down......and then we glanced over at the Neil Diamond bumper sticker car to see their reaction. It was a humiliated-looking young teenage boy with a floppy EMO hairstyle. He was desperately trying to not even shift his eyes a fraction of an inch our way.

We laughed along to the rest of the song, too drunk with our dorky, teen-repellent power to finish the lyrics.

No wonder Washingtonians all seemed so smiley and cheerful.......who wouldn't be happy when there's some Big O action around every corner??!?

*It took me two weeks to write up this Great White Infidel Goes To The Pacific Northwest vacation update. One day I might get around to showing you all our most excellent bloggy beach adventures. One day.*