posted by: audra
okay. look, kids–i know this hasn’t been easy…for any of us. i miss the weekly recounts of my life just as much as you do! believe it! and i have gotten scolded…many a time…for having this much fucking time on my hands & not blogging. but! it’s all i can do to not sit in front of a screen all day, talking about myself. it’s been a struggle not to do so, but here you go. it’s all going to be purged…even old posts from weeks & weeks ago that were never posted! exciting, right?! and so, we begin….
august 20-something, 2009:
an elitist’s guide to sea-rattle: dive bars, lamb & a bus stop
okay. so. i know, right? you’ve been sitting around, waiting for the night to come, or whatever. at least i have. you want to know ALL about what the biscuits & i have been up to? of course you do! i should have probably made a little note saying ‘sigh…we will be on temporary blog sabbatical for a bit…’ so that y’all didn’t throw a hissy. but i didn’t. and now that hissy has come & you’re sick of checking for new posts. i know my friends well, so i know it’s happened…
disclaimer: this is neither charming nor witty….like you’re used to. continue if you wish…
so kids…sam & i had THE most lovely vacay in seattle EVER. seriously. like, better than new orleans, london, paris & the coast of italy combined. for realsies. believe it. in seattle, of all places! we met THE most incredible people EVER. ever. and then we came home & then i come into work the next day to find out that i have been fired. i’ve realized since that day that i’m much too pretty to work there, so it’s for the better. and anyway, who wants to hear about that?! not you. so….
the first night we were in seattle, we stumbled upon this bar i’d found on yelp called the nitelite. please, please go here iffn’ you’re in the mood for a cranky bar-maid, divey slabtown-esque setting& craving something called taco fries. de-fucking-licious. it’s this ridiculously gross looking pile of fries with taco meat, jalapeños, sour cream, tomatoes & cheese. jesus christ. i literally was so sick & feeling awful that i was running a fever when we arrived last-last-last thursday night, & these babies totally cured me. that, and some beer. these fucking d & d idiots sat next to US (of course), so we had the honor of listening to the different methods & such of dungeons & dragons. they’re quite lucky i wasn’t feeling well, was getting drunk & had the taco fries on my side. in fact, the bartender repeatedly asked them if they were ‘actually going to order’ and if not, then to ‘get out of her establishment’. awesome. even she knew they were idiots.
the next day was the pinnacle of our trip. we have the most uh-mazing friends ever, and are SO lucky to have them… friday was the 2-year anniversary of our dear, dear friend seth’s death. our lovely friends k & a hosted an amazing soiree with all of seth’s close friends, and i tell you what, it was such an honor to be at a gatheringsurrounded by his nearest & dearest, and to be included in something like that. there were some incredible experiences surrounding all of that, including getting a town car escort sorta by accident. anyway, we love you guys to death & miss you terribly already!
saturday after le party, we slept until 2 or 3-ish. sam & i–in typical cuntington fashion—got coffee & ended up hoofing it to the funhouse, a rad little venue/bar where some of our very close pdxoxo bands play often. perhaps you should know that at this point, i am NOT showered, NOT made-up, NOT wearing clean clothes, nor are my teeth or hair brushed. believe it. i’m wearing 2 dirty black tank tops, dirty jeans, a leopard headscarf, huge sunglasses & converse. i know, right?! see, if you think i never go out in public undone, you’re right. but maybe in a foreign city i might. this, or course, is when we run into mutual friends of friends. and also drink breakfast bloodies…
…because this lovely little venue, and lovely it is…does not serve food. real food, anyway. the waitress stated that they ‘have a microwave’ and ‘unless you want a hungryman frozen dinner, you’re better off next door.’ so we drank our breaky drinks & walked to the best bar ever, the 5 point café. just hearing someone else say ‘hungryman’ is embarrassing enough.
kids, you don’t know what you’re missing until you’vebeen to the 5 point. incredible people, super-laid-back, delicious diner food, and a fucking rad juke box. we had gone to this place on friday afternoon prior to the seth-party & lurrrrved it. it felt like home; i never wanted to leave. it’s not touristy in the least, so you’ll meet the bestest locals EVER. the sexy bartenders are nice if you’re nice to them. the bathrooms are clean, but one drunky away from being gross, which is what i like. the clubhouse is perfectly mayonaissed & baconed. the omelets are fluffy & cheesy. you’ll likely hear the cult, mother love bone & mudhoney. if the regulars like you, they may give you half of their peanut butter cup—straight from the freezer. and then hug you on your way out the door. and if you’re lucky, their number & email address. this place has been around since 1929, or whatever, for obvious reasons. heart, heart! i fucking love the 5 point. thank you, babies!
le saturday afternoon after our booze breakfast, sam & i went back to the hotel max where we were residing, to you know, shower & such. maybe sober up a spot, too. we then made our way to a cab to explore capitol hill. love, love, love, you guys! it’s sooo quiet & rad up there, i nearly passed out. after spending waaay too much time & money in sonic boom records, i asked this super-hip & attractive gentleman passing by which bar he would recommend. he rattled off several places, so we sort of walked around peering in doors to investigate. nothing really spoke to us until we came upon smith, the last place he’d mentioned. i could live in smith. really. it’s dark, minimalistic, but cozy. taxidermied heads of various animals & birds mounted tastefully(!) on the walls next to abstract portraits of important americana figures past. the bathrooms are super dark, with the stalls made out of very old doors. the sink is mounted in an old sideboard. delicious. the servers are really fucking hot, really fucking nice, and the jukebox contains sleater-kinney, heliosequence & the jam. we ordered some marrow bones with bruschetta ($9) to start. sam had a burger for around $12 (& mentioned it was possibly better than the slow burger?!), and i had a steak & potatoes with duck fat for 14 bucks. ridiculously underpriced, fantastic atmosphere, rad servers……sigh! i’m kicking myself that we didn’t take hardly ANY pictures the entire trip…especially of the food—and the hot people we met. anyway, at smith we drank several really amazing local beers…which embarrassingly enough, i have no idea what they were…but then went on a quest to find another bar we’d been dying to visit: the redwood.
it took asking 3 different people on the street (after walking around drunk & aimlessly by ourselves) to find it. but when we did, it was like a glowing oracle. i’d been DYING to come here, you guys. i read about this thing, this ‘seattle dog’, which is a hot dog smothered with cream cheese. i nearly had a coronary. the redwood is supposed to haveit….but upon sitting at the bar, it was nowhere in sight. we sat awhile & noticed a cute little couple sit next to us. but i was ready to leave. the bartender wasn’t very good, my creamy hot dog wasn’t present & i was tired. my breakfast bloodies were really starting to kick in. the music was terrible too. i think we were there long enough to hear the allman brothers greatest hits record twice. gross. i’m pretty sure we put some money in the juke at this point…the only song i remember playing was ‘transmission’…
and thanks to ian curtis, it lead us to make instant bffs with the cute couple sitting at the bar next to us. we began bantering back & forth about music, & ended up doing a bit of bar-hopping with them for the rest of the evening. i felt a bit out of sorts, what with my frump-wear: black top, cuffed skinny jeans & converse…but somehow my sparkling personality was still able to shine through. thanks baby jesus! the four of us went to the buck for a few drinks; cute place, crowded, small, nice servers…and three words: wasabi grilled cheese. whilst i didn’t have the time to make gastronomic love to my grilled cheese, it was still enough to make me wanna go back. and so, after we passed the buck, we managed to find this fabulous little bar called the bus stop.
the bus stop = hot staff, amazing dj (book of love + old new order!), small, intimate classy bar posing as a dive. it’s the bartender’s bar. the owner is beautiful, super-nice & he’ll be disgustingly attentive–even if he’s busy. believe it. you’ll love it, babies! promise! and be sure to stop in the cute little vintage store next door…there just might be a glamorous tranny begging you to come in & take a look at a few oddities. just sayin…
sunday i believe we slept in…again…and perhaps went for a little walk around. i think it was hot? i don’t really remember. but i do remember meeting our lovely, lovely friend bianca for sushi at the red fin at the hotel max. yours truly ordered something called the yummy roll; skrimp tempura with cream cheese (!) wrapped up with some sort of fluorescent orange roe on top…salmon roe maybe? yummy indeed. b had the las vegas roll, and sam something neither of us remember… but i believe it too had cream cheese & definitely eel. lovely…but not the greatest place ever. the alcoholic in me ordered a tasteful lychee martini, but of course followed that up with a vodka tonic after the sushi. delicious. we then talked bianca into going back to the bus stop with us; it happened to be karaoke night. god bless that bar. i swear on chanel i would have done something, but those fucks were gooood in there. intimidatingly good. had it been a bar with dirty old men & ladies lubed up with jean nate, i totally would have pulled off my best sophie b. hawkins, but for god’s sake….
monday = DEPECHE MODE DAY. yes, kids– the whole day. except for the break we took for dinner at ten mercer with our friends g-mae, adrian & new friend tucker. i highly recommend the rack of lammy. the place was cool, but our server was kinda cunty…like rushing us a bit too much. it’s busy. so? anyway, sam had the crab ravioli, which was lovely….there’s also a succulent duck breast on the menu. i love breasts AND ducks. damn.
while the lamb was lovely, it caused us to miss the ENTIRE peter, bjorn & john set. believe it! wellsies….not the lamb alone, but maybe primping & preening…and sleeping in too late. and what’s with key arena not allowing booze INTO the shows?! you have to chug your drinks real quick-like & haul ass back to your seat? whatevs. not a fan. but our seats on the floor were uh-maze-ing & dépêche totally would have ripped my knickers to shreds, had i been wearing them. one of the best. shows. ever. ever! including bowie! and peej! and i know we say that all the time, but totally really mean it this time! here’s a little treat from what you missed:
thank god i was there for you, right?! yes, yes…the audio & such is bad, but i didn’t post it. i just relay the festivities.
fuck, this is getting long…sorry loves. see? this is what i get for being afraid of falling into the internets-coma & avoiding the computer at all times while i’m newly unemployed. i just do my nails & chain-smoke instead. seems healthier somehow. but anyway….
so, before heading back to the room directly after the show, we dragged our friends back to the five point café once again. man, i can’t say enough how much i love that place. this was the third trip to the five point & first time i saw it with standing room-only…. which normally i would throw a hissy fit & leave…but with this place, was happy. people SHOULD be coming here. it SHOULD be packed on a monday night at 11. …or not. if i lived in seattle, i’d probably be real cunty towards the assholes that were taking up space in OUR bar. but, whatever. i got my omelet & some beer; sam got some fried mac & cheese wedges. we closed the night with the amazing crystal, and then a night-capping serenade with this homeless, but surprisingly well dressed man named pops. he said to look him up on youtube…and fucking hell, he was good…but sadly, i didn’t find him. sigh!
the end was sad. real sad, for realsies! but fortunately, we were lucky enough to have one night with our lovely, cute couple we had met at the redwood, in pdxoxo the next week. we love & miss you kittens! the photobooth at east end will never be the same…
….and we are fucking LAME we have like, zero photos of our own. we seriously packed our camera everywhere, too. i suppose i should just believe that we were having too much fun to take pictures. and i think that we were.