Sore Feet and Dinosaur Feet

Yesterday I went back to Fremont to visit the Sunday Market and track down the elusive dinosaurs.

I was determined not to spend too much money, but hopefully find something cool to wear to the concert, because I hadn't packed anything weird and interesting, not having planned to see Amanda Palmer while I was here. I ended up finding a cheap second-hand wallet, excellently fluffy socks, and a $5 dress which fits me like it was made for me. There is no logical fallacy in assuming that, therefore, it was made for me. By magical pixies. Who also made my fluffy socks.

These are the second coolest socks I own. I have dinosaur feet now. (Pictures of dress to come.)

I got more compliments on my hair and my scarf and my new dress, and I decided that people in Seattle are definitely coming down on the side of delightful. I'm very at home with the English way of not making eye contact with anyone, ever, at all costs, but I actually really like this smiley greetey thing. It turns out that talking to people is actually much less scary than agonising over whether or not I should.

Content with my new purchases and the nice people and the sunshine, I went in search of the dinosaurs, and it turned out that when I followed the sign in the direction it was pointing, it actually did lead to dinosaurs. And a rocket! What an excellent combination.

I ate my first ever tofu scramble at Silence-Heart-Nest, which is a silly name. But then, they were also selling packs of aphorisms like "Do not choose to fret. Try to forget.", so I had to expect a large spoonful of silliness with my tofu scramble. The scramble, fortunately, was excellent.

And in the evening, Amanda Palmer & the Grand Theft Orchestra! I got there later than I meant to, but it was a little venue and not too full, so I didn't have to queue to get in. I bought an overpriced drink because I thought that having vodka would be more fun than not having vodka, but on reflection, I also think that having $6.50 would have been more fun than not having $6.50. Live and learn.

I've been on Twitter less than usual now that I'm a busy adventurer rather than a procrastinating layabout master's student, which meant that I missed out on cool things like the instruction to bring anthropomorphised fruit.

I'm sorry, internet. I won't leave you again. I've learned my lesson.

I experienced one of those perfect moments of universal connectedness singing along to Don't Stop Believin' with several hundred people as it was played on the sax by Boston's premier  '80s pop saxophone duo, Ronald Reagan.

By the time Amanda and her band came on stage, my feet were sore and I was tired. But I had made a concert friend, Kole, and got surprisingly invested in his basketball team. I don't know what they're called, but by the time second overtime was over and the results were tweeted, I was very excited that they'd won. Go... team! We also had a good chat about Doctor Who and associated FEELINGS.*

Apart from my pathetic feet and general weariness, and the drunk and obnoxious girl who pushed me out of my spot, almost knocking me over, and then picked a fight with Kole in the middle of the quietest song of the set, it was a great show. They did all sorts of artsy things using people's contributions of photos and ideas, Amanda crowdsurfed, and I (predictably) wept in The Bed Song.

I touched Amanda Palmer! Wait, that sounds creepier than I wanted it to.

I don't think I was really in the right mood for a big over-the-top spectacle of a show, and after the sad songs I was a bit sad and tired and ready to go to sleep. I rushed out after the show to try and catch the last direct bus home, but I'd already missed it, and my backup plan failed because Google Maps apparently isn't up to date with all the changes to the bus routes which happened at the weekend. So I got halfway back, found out my transfer bus didn't exist, and eventually had to take a cab the rest of the way (once I finally gave up and stopped wandering the intersection forlornly). By the time I got home, it was late and cold and dark, and I had a bit of a sad, which hadn't gone away when I woke up.

BUT I AM AN ADVENTURER. And by now I'm used to the occasional moments of travel sadness, and I'm learning how to weather them.

And so I went to Seattle Center, where I kicked the Space Needle (Bri's trying to make it fall over, one visit to Seattle at a time, and I thought I'd help out) and ate a ridiculously good Jamaican tofu sandwich. I wanted to go to the Pacific Science Center, but I decided when I came to Seattle that my money would go to food, not tourism, so I had to give it a miss. It helps that I'm hoping to get to the Exploratorium in San Francisco. Oh the buttons I will press! Soon, my pretties. Soon.

I think my kick helped.

Someone's read the free Two Things to Do Before or After You're Thirty postcard.

After the Center, I found my way down to the Olympic Sculpture Park after much confused map wrestling. I really think the map is at fault here, for the record. I'm usually better at maps. This one must have been broken.

Ah... Art?

I relaxed and enjoyed the view for about five minutes, and then realised I'd lost my phone, and backtracked with surprisingly little panic to the Seattle Center, where some kind soul had handed it in. Another point for Team Delightful. People of Seattle, you are officially Very Nice.

As vegan donuts were more or less the reason I came to Seattle, I caught the bus to Mighty-O, which has all the vegan donuts in the world.

Sadly, if there's one thing I've learned about myself in Seattle (apart from the fact that magical pixies once made me a dress and a pair of dinosaur socks), it's that I can't eat nearly as much as I think I can. So I had to pick one donut and miss out on all the others. I hope my parallel universe selves enjoyed the Chocolate Peanut Butter and French Toast and Apple Spice while I ate the Nutty Chocolate.

From there, I went to Green Lake Park to collapse with the Cabin Pressure Christmas episode, thereby combining two of the things on the happy list, and cheering up considerably. I decided to leave when I nearly got hit by a frisbee thrown by what I can only assume were frat boys, based on my close study of American television. I am basing this assumption largely on the discussion of spring break and the excellent comment "Where's Bermuda? Is that like in Europe?"

Interesting creatures.**

Then it was back to my host's house to pack up and decamp to a new host before my last full day in Seattle tomorrow. What does the future hold? Adventures? Happiness? Laundry? It's a mystery.

*I actually don't have that many feelings about Doctor Who any more other than disappointment. But I used to have a lot of feelings. Those were the glory days.
**They were very apologetic about the frisbee, though.