Tag Archives: my 30s

Dive Bar Memories: why I’ll miss The Canterbury when it closes

Canterbury Pirate

DRINK MORE! YARRRR

There have been rumors for a while, but last month, the Capitol Hill Seattle Blog posted that The Canterbury would be closing at the end of the year for SURE. *sob*

After living for over 10 years in a horrifyingly depressing apartment just south of Everett (where my car got stolen not once, but twice), my roommate and I made a pact to save money and get ourselves the hell out of the ‘burbs and back into the city. Because OHMYGOD THE CITY. We lucked out and found a cheap’ish apartment on 19th & Roy, which just happened to be the perfect stumbling distance from The Canterbury on 15th.

It didn’t take long before The Canterbury was my home as much as my apartment was.  Sticky, dark, and (loosely) Medieval-themed with mismatched chairs and tables, it was the perfect place to drink yourself silly, soak up the booze with a greasy cheeseburger and a giant plate of fries—and then start all over again. For the five years that I lived in that apartment, it was where I planted myself at least 2-3 times a week. Continue reading

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So this one time, on an airplane, I met Morris Day

(Unfortunately the only photo evidence I have of this encounter died with the harddrive it was on years ago, as it was pre-smartphone technology.) 

It is 9:30 in the morning and I’m on an Alaska Air flight from San Diego to Seattle with my aunt. Shortly after we take off, I notice that one of the flight attendants is bringing First Class goods back into the regular cabin. (My aunt and I are sitting in the third row back.) After the third total giggle fit, I look up and notice her smiling and flirting with a group of gentlemen—one of which looks insanely familiar. The flight attendant asks if they need drinks, and I hear the familiar-looking guy say, “Do you have any Courvoisier, sweetheart?” (I SWEAR TO YOU I AM NOT MAKING THIS UP). And that’s when I realize it. Holycrap. Is that? I think it is. THAT! Is! Morris! Day!

I turn to my aunt to whisper this exciting news, but of course, she doesn’t know who the hell I’m talking about it. Trying to keep it cool, so under my breath I’m like, “Morris Day! And the Time! You know, The Time? Jungle Love? The Oak Tree?? THE BIRD???  The motherfucking TIME. How do you not know this?” Continue reading


How to Sing Karaoke, Sober

Not an actual representation of me on stage, but I am most definitely drunk in this photo.

Okay, that title is a bit misleading. Because it sounds like this entry will be a primer on how-to do something, and it’s something I’m not even sure I can do. But, seeing how it’s the eve of the big Three Imaginary Girls 10th Anniversary Rockstar Karaoke New Wave Bash, I felt like I had to write something about how my massive stage fright might hamper my desire to get up there and belt out a few tunes.

See, I suffer from this thing called “being old.” And yes, I know I’m not that old. And yet, for some reason, the combination of three things has a tendency to make me very, very, very ill: standing for extended periods of time + being out late + booze. Basically, if I’m out at a show, drinking even the littlest bit of alcohol is like injecting poison straight into my veins.

Even like 1 glass of cider can make me feel like I’m going to hurl all night—waking me up about every 30 minutes to stumble into the bathroom, praying I can eject whatever is making me feel HORRRIBLE as quickly as possible.

After asking my doctor 100x why this is, she said, definitively, and for the 100th time, “You’re just getting old, my dear.” Auuugh. Really? I mean, I realize I probably ruined my bladder with all that Bacardi and Jose Cuervo in the 80s (and 90s … and 2000s) but COME ON (wo)MAN. Continue reading


The worst pick-up lines I’ve ever heard.

This is why I used to give guys a fake name when I was a bar-hopping single girl.

To me, personally, I mean.

1. “You look just like my ex-girlfriend!”
See also: “You look just like my ex-wife!”

I have actually heard the above multiple times, from many different guys. How are these going to endear me to you?  You’re hitting on me because I’m the spitting image of your EX. Your. Ex. That says to me that you’re looking for a clone, not a new person to be in a relationship with.

2. “You look pretty good for thirty.”

Okay. Wait. HOW is this a compliment? How about just, “You are beautiful.” or “You look really amazing.” Why mention my age, at all. And it’s the “pretty good” part that makes me go ewww. See also: “That outfit really flatters your size.” and “WHOA. You are OLD, but at least you look young!” 

3. “Since your friend turned me down, can I get your number instead?”

No. Just no. I don’t need to explain why this isn’t okay, do I?

4. “I’m married, but you’re too cute to pass up. Can I call you?” 
This, or some version thereof, has also happened multiple times. Yuck.

And my personal favorite:
5. “You look lonely. Want to come home with me and hook up?” 

Again. I…what? Do these ever work for anybody?


New Zealand Memories (8 years later)

Attn. nerds: this is the river in LoTR where Arwen saves Frodo from the Ringwraiths!!! (with Jen & me trying to look cool in front of it)

Eight years ago on March 24, I was in New Zealand with my friends Jen & Rob on what I like to call “my divorce settlement trip.” Divorce settlement meaning that I took the money I got from selling the my ex’s Mustang and motor home (which he left on my dad’s property, and I’m fully convinced he only gave  them to me–via the divorce agreement–because he didn’t want to face my dad in order to get them back) and used it to buy plane tickets. J&R generously financed my hotel rooms, which I will never be able to thank them for ENOUGH, because it was one of the raddest things I’ve ever done.

Anyway! We started in Queenstown, with a side-trip to Dunedin, and then we moved to Auckland for the last few days. Queenstown is INSANELY BEAUTIFUL. Surrounded by clear, gorgeous bright blue water, with a ring of mountains so close you can pretty much touch them, and a cute brick-laid main street with lots of eating, drinking, and shopping options. Dunedin was a 6-hour drive away, and had more of a big city feel (as big a city as you can pack onto an island, anyway). And Auckland reminded me so much of Seattle, it was eerie. But I digress.

Here I present to you my favorite moments from that trip–the things that I think about a lot. And miss. And want to relive.  Continue reading


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