The Everywhereist

My friend Lauren came up to see me a few weeks ago for my birthday. She hopped on a plane and flew up to Seattle from San Francisco, for no other reason than to hang out. The subsequent geekery that ensued was neither planned nor expected. Lauren is from New York: she’s feisty and direct. I’d like to think that I know her – and her likes and dislikes – rather well.

And yet, and yet, and yet … When I asked her what she wanted to do while visiting Seattle, and her only response was “The Sci-Fi Museum“, I found myself quite surprised. Ditto to when Rand and I returned home from an outing to find Lauren sitting on the couch watching Serenity. People are complicated. Sometimes the girl in the leather jacket and the Brazilian blow-out is a total science fiction enthusiast. A geek of epic proportions. It is surprising and delightful, and there’s a lesson to be learned in all of it.

So on a drizzly day, Lauren and I headed out to the SFM (not be confused with the FSM). It’s adjacent to the Experience Music Project, and sadly, it feels like an afterthought. As though the SFM was something created to make the the EMP feel more robust, but not really a fleshed-out attraction in and of itself. One admission price covers both museums – but if you have your heart set on simply the Sci-Fi portion of it, you might end up feeling a little let down.

Of course, we still had  a great time …

I guarantee you, this is the coolest anyone has ever looked in this exact location.

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Note: While this was written on Monday night, I only just posted it now. Fear not – Rand and I are safely home and out of our terrible hotel.

Folks, I am currently in hotel hell. I will elaborate more on it when I get home – right now I am toiling away one last night in a room the size of a hatbox with my husband. There is only room for one of us to sit at the desk they’ve provided us at a time (and only one chair) so I’ll try and get this post out in the time that he’s done brushing his teeth.

Why do I suspect this photo, taken a few months ago, will get a LOT of use on my site?

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Did I mention that the Plaza Inn and Suites in Ashland, Oregon, is horrible? NEVER STAY HERE. But, again, that’s for next week. In the meantime, I’m thinking about how lucky I am to have the support of my awesome friends like Christine, who tore the manager here a new a-hole on my behalf. Thanks, Christine! You’ll be happy to know that they sent us a cheap bottle of wine as an apology. Rand and I are at the point that we’re laughing our asses off about the whole thing: we joked that they were next going to move us into a janitorial closet (but the good news is that they’ll be giving us another bottle of shitty wine we won’t drink). (more…)

Dear residents of Seattle;

First off, a brief apology. I am sure that I have flipped off the vast majority of you in traffic. On more passive aggressive occasions, I may have intentionally picked my nose in the vicinity of your children, thereby affirming the belief that it’s not only okay and acceptable, but it’s fun! Enjoy trying to break them of that habit.

However, all of that is in the past (and by “past”, I mean, “foreseeable future”), because I’m here to give you a bit of HOLY-CATS-THAT’S-AWESOME advice. And it is as follows: Visit the Willamette Valley wineries in Oregon. Immediately.

Oh, hush: I do not CARE if you have other obligations to tend to in our fair city. The kids can drop themselves off at daycare for once (plus, you don’t want those little nose-pickers in your car anyway). And stop whining that you’re going to miss Great Uncle Lou’s last days: it’s called hospice for a reason. It’s because it’s hospitable. He’s not going to notice you’re gone: he thinks it’s 1943, anyway.

Besides: OREGON WINE COUNTRY IS AWESOME. Here are just a few reasons why.

1. It’s must closer to Seattle. I’m not going to lie: I suck at geography, and I don’t really know where Napa is. But I know that Oregon is, like, a MILLION times closer (no hyperbole).

Hee hee. It's on Uranus.

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In lieu of a guest blog post this week, I’ve decided to resurrect my short-lived Ask The Everywhereist feature. That way I can still exploit my readers for content (via their brilliant questions) without denying myself the pleasure of composing yet another snarky blog post! Plus, like Dear Abby and Prudie and all those other women who know everything, I’m dispensing useful advice to the masses!

What’s that, legal representation? Okay, fine – I’ll offer up a disclaimer. Sigh. This post is for entertainment purposes only. Any advice included therein may be considered the ramblings of a mad woman and should probably be ignored. Failing to ignore my advice should result in injury, emotional scarring, a general patina of ickiness, and possible deportation. You’ve been warned.

But onward!

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Jessica of WhyGoItaly writes …

Dear Everywhereist:

I really hate humidity. What can you do to make humid destinations more palatable for me?

Luv, Jessica

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This week’s post comes from the brilliant and lovely Angela, who I consistently describe as “one of the best people I’ll ever work with. Ever.” (She was also inspiration for my be-nice-to-everyone day in Chicago last year.) Recently, Angela became a mom to an adorable little girl (like, really recently. As in, LAST WEEK recently). Fortunately, a few weeks ago, as she sat around her house impatiently awaiting the arrival of her munchkin, she decided to kill some time by writing me a guest post! Keep in mind, this is a couple weeks old, so the baby of which she speaks has now arrived, and is an absolute cutie. But anyway, on to Angela’s post …

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By Angela Taylor Hylland
(a.k.a. Syntax Sorceress)

As I started writing this post, I couldn’t help by wonder if Geraldine would find it amusing or offensive, given that I wasn’t able to make it to her destination wedding in nearby Eastern Oregon two years ago. But since she likes to walk that line herself—one of her most endearing qualities, to be sure—I finally decided she would approve. The idea came to me yesterday as I was lounging around the house waiting for the impending birth of my first child. After you’ve run out of nesting projects, checked Facebook 100x too many, and caught up on your favorite blogs (including The Everywhereist, of course), you have a lot of time to think. And I’ve been thinking about the important lessons I’ve learned that I’d like to pass on to my child.

Oh the places these little feet will go …

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Mindy has, under no duress or guilt, agreed to do one more brilliant blog post for all of us! Thanks Mindy! (P.S. – as soon as the post gets 3 comments, you’ll get your dog back, as per the terms specified in our ransom agreement).

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Dear Everywhereist Readers,

Wow. I’m back. Now I know Geraldine’s just taking pity on me. But I’m not going anywhere. And if you’re not either, relax. There are many books that use travel as a metaphor or plot device to entertain you, my beloved home-bound readers. In literature, sometimes “road trip” or “journey” or “travel” are used as code words for “voyage of self-discovery” or “brisk plot.” Cool, huh?

So let’s say you’ve read all the classics of travel writing, like On the Road or even Bill Bryson or Elizabeth Gilbert (and let’s be honest, if you are a female between the ages of 18 and 65, chances are you or your best friend has read Eat, Pray, Love). Don’t despair. There are plenty of interesting and new (enough) travel-themed books you may know about. Yet.

Here are a few I’ve enjoyed, and a two I haven’t even read. Yet.

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My brother just joined Twitter. This is somewhat amusing to me, because he’s still in the “What the heck is the purpose of this?” phase (note: that doesn’t stop his Twitter feed from being raunchily hilarious). I’ve been using Twitter for a few years (though the account I use now was created more recently than my older, personal account) and as I focus more on travel and travel blogging, its purpose has become apparent.

Being active on Twitter is a must for any travel blogger. Not only does it give you a great network with which to connect to other travel bloggers and promote your own articles and links, but it actually makes your travels better, too. Check out my reasons for how Twitter can help you in all your travels … (more…)

This week’s post is courtesy of my brilliant friend Laura, who I’ve known the 10th grade. I could go on and on about Laura’s awesomeness, but this story illustrates it perfectly:

Laura and I were in a terrible statistics class our senior year of high school. It was a requirement for the IB program, and I think it’s safe to say that both of us hated the class. One day the teacher, Mr. Jacobson (who had just become a father) asked our table a question.

Laura, who was generally rather quite in class, mumbled something.

“What was that?” Mr Jacobson asked.

And so Laura repeated what she said, this time louder, and with an Australian accent.

“THE DINGO ATE YOUR BABY.”

Mr. Jacobson stared blankly at her for a few minutes.

Finally he replied, “No it didn’t.”

He then went back to teaching class, and gave up on engaging us in conversation. It was awesome.

Just like Laura.

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I assure you, dear readers of Everywhereist, that I thought long and hard about what I should write for what I hope is only the first of at least several guest blog posts that you will bookmark in your web browser of choice and cherish forever. (Well, a girl can dream, can’t she?) My topic for today is how to avoid common pitfalls when traveling to an athletic event in which you are competing. I tried to re-word that to make it sound more exciting (or at least shorter), but all other descriptions were too vague for my attorney brain to handle.

Several years ago my husband and I began competing in races. I’m not sure what you think of when you hear the word “races”, I guess you might think of Nascar or the Kentucky Derby. I’m mainly talking about triathlons, but we also swim and run without the biking part. One time we biked without the swim and run part, but it is something of which we do not speak because it resulted in a very silent car ride home.

At any rate, much to my husband’s chagrin, some of our races have taken us out of town. I have now been banned from scheduling any races more than half an hour away from our house without prior approval. Luckily for you, my husband was slow to catch on and I picked up on a few things that could make your life easier if you are planning any destination races. (more…)