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On my way to work this morning, I walked by a row of active sprinklers in the grass by the parking garage.

Sprinklers.

In Seattle.

Where it has been raining 6 days out of every week since I got here.

(Sidenote: I can’t believe the fools here call this “May.” This month was supposed to be warm and toasty, not chilly and overcast. I should be honey-brown by now. Instead, I’m just Honey Bunch. *smirk*)

This Day Five of my seventh master cleanse finds me in much better spirits than last Day Five. This time, I’m not dealing with lawsuits (or threats of them), freezing weather (it’s just plain cold now), broken hearts (mine or anyone else’s), bad hair (at least no one has said anything), or uncontrollable depression (it agrees to wear a leash four days a week now). Check out the January Archives if any of that stuff interests you.

I’ve been meaning to write something intelligent on here, which I try to do at least quarterly, but I’m afraid I’m tapped out these days. So here are some more pictures.

Saturday

I hate the fair.

Sunday

The Bloedel Reserve

The marina at Bainbridge:

Monday

Josh and I hit the graveyard by Joe’s house before the usual, always pleasurable end-of-the-weekend gathering with the Texpats.

Judging from the bright shiny fuzziness in most of these pics, you’d think we were in Heaven. Hell, maybe we were.

Mmmm… Roasted garlic.

My take on the 2005 GGF (Yeah, it was nothing to write home about, but I did anyway.)

This guy gives Dr. Geek a run for his money:

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a0qMe7Z3EYg]

Where was he when I was taking Intro to Web Design?

It’s an important question that every twenty-something living in a major U.S. city must contemplate: Am I a Hipster? Granted, no hipster would ever openly admit to being a hipster, but if it turns out that I am one, it’s important that I admit it to myself. I’m not sure what extreme measures I’ll take to correct this artfully pretentious behavior, but I’m hoping for everyone’s sake it involves something a little more permanently damaging than razor blades and a bathtub.

Arguments FOR:

• I live on the cheap, no car or TV.
• I moved to Seattle on purpose.
• I used to live in a “really amazing” artist’s loft.
• I smoke off-brand cigarettes.
• My nose is pierced.
• I have an iPod.
• I have a myspace profile.
• I don’t have a lawn.
• I can be a sarcastic asshole when I want to be.
• I have black hair with black bangs.
• I own a pair of footless tights.
• I wear hoodies and old-style Adidas.
• My last pair of glasses were black and chunky.
• I am open to the idea that I could be a hipster.

Arguments AGAINST:

• My parents don’t lend me money for living expenses so I can “explore my creative talents.”
• I moved to Seattle and work at Microsoft on purpose.
• The “really amazing” artist’s loft sucked, so I moved into a corporate-owned shoebox on the north side of town.
• I don’t smoke Parliaments.
• I don’t have any tattoos.
• I don’t have an iMac or iAnythingElse.
• I daily contemplate deleting my myspace profile.
• Get off my lawn.
• I am a sarcastic asshole all the time.
• I have unhighlighted hair and unstyled bangs.
• I have no idea what to wear with footless tights.
• I can’t buy new jeans because they’re all too tight/low-rise.
• I got eye surgery so I could no longer wear glasses that were thick and chunky.
• I nod and smile when people call me a hipster.

Also:

• I hate PBR and most beer in general.
• I never miss a good opportunity to chow down.
• I run about 30 miles per week.
• I don’t go to shows.
• Six months of Seattle residency and I still haven’t crawled up KEXP’s ass.

So what’s the verdict? These lists aren’t complete, but I think they provide a decent framework on a slack-worthy Friday afternoon. If it makes any difference, I plan to make up for the company time lost and work late into the evening. Afterward, I will go home and stay there. I’m not going to drink a 10pm-latte. I’m not going to a loft party. And I sure as hell am not going to a show in Capitol Hill. I might cut myself though. It all depends whether I hear any Morrissey or not.

So my stint of productive Sundays ended when I celebrated Cinco de Mayo on Cuatro de Mayo and knocked myself out of commission until Seis de Mayo. Not much to blog about other than the usual antics, and thus a week of barren nothingness.

You’ll get over it.