This time last year, Seattle was wrapping up an amazing autumn. It hardly rained. It was almost never cloudy. Autumn 2008 has been pretty crappy, which is why I haven't been posting as much. The weather has been so uninspiring, it has become a challenge to get fired up to do much of anything - even on the weekends. To show you what I mean by "uninspiring," here is the view from my apartment this morning looking up the hill:



And here is the "view" down the hill towards the Sound:




So when the sun comes out, even for a couple of hours, you race outside to check to see that the mountains are still there:

Ok, this *is* a post about a reason why I love Seattle. As a resident of this metropolis, you get a lot of free things. And free, as I like to say, is good. What exactly have I gotten that is free, I hear you ask? Food, mostly. And it almost always comes in the mail.

Well not the food itself, but the coupon for the free food. I like to call it "equal opportunity food stamps." Seattle has its version of "Kings" supermarket -uber overpriced, but always has the coolest stuff ever. Every week, they send out a coupon for something that you can get, totally free. No purchase of any kind necessary. You literally walk in, pick up your free thing, wave the coupon at the cashier, and walk out. It could be a carton of soup, pint of gourmet ice cream.. a dozen roses. I don't even have to pay taxes on it. I even make them validate my parking when I go in to the store just to pick up my free weekly item. It is just awesome. Another example.. when a new restuarant or bar opens up, they almost always send out an advertisement in the mail to this effect. Often, these come with a gift certificate of some kind. And for a decent amount, like $20. If you manage to stock pile these, you can have a pretty cheap evening... for example:

A while back I got a certificate for a free cocktail at a very very swanky place (even by NYC standards). When I got a $20 certificate to a restaurant in close proximity to this bar, I decided to cash in. Here's the break down:

First stop: Fancy Schmancy Bar with cocktail voucher
Very posh and strong bourbon cocktail laced with maple syrup foam: free
Caprese salad (had to get it because I realized I didn't have any cash for a tip): $7
Total, with tip and taxes: $10

Second stop: Upscale Italian restaurant with $20 voucher
Lobster/scallop ravioli, 2, both almost the size of a laptop: $23
Total, with tip and taxes: $10

Now, if I had actually had cash on me, the whole evening would have run me a total of $10. I didn't even have to pay for parking.

I love this city.

I can't quite decide if the following is another example of why I love it out here or whether it is an example of why the NY/NJ area drove me up the wall... literally.

Before I left for my Asia trip, I had gotten a notice in the mail about my car registration being due some time in November. I figured it was best to just take care of it before I left, knowing that the chances of me totally forgetting to do it upon my return were excellent.

So you can imagine my surprise when, almost two weeks after my return, now well into November, the DMV RETURNED my registration renewal, along with my uncashed check. In panic, I immediately assumed that some how the check had bounced. I had never bounced a check in my life. But upon closer inspection, I see that my renewal was rejected because I had failed to see that my car required inspection this year. Oops.

I check the date the registration was to expire, and predictably, it was the next day. Oops.

Now, if I had found myself in this predicament in NJ, this would be a major major problem. I mean, how in the world would I ever be able to get my car inspected and get a new registration in one afternoon? The Jersey girl in me was still quite panicked, but decided to try anyways.

So it is Friday afternoon, 3pm, when I leave to find the inspection station at the other end of town. It takes me about 30 mins to locate this station that had my GPS system totally confused (not long after it thought it was in Guam). I get inspected and passed in less than 15 mins. No wait. I realize that I amazingly, still have a chance of getting to the DMV (in the direction from whence I came, only going even farther) to get my registration renewed before they close. Whoo.

I not only got my registration renewed before they closed, but I was able to meet friends for happy hour at 5pm all the way back downtown. Even found a free spot on the street. Whoo. So, to recap, in 2 hours, I got my car inspected and reregistrated in two totally different locations, with nearly 1 hour and 15 mins of driving mixed in. Double whoo.

You may be wondering how is it that the DMV in Seattle is so much more efficient than in NJ - sure, there are fewer people, but also, the DMVs are privately run. I really think NJ should give that a whirl.

My favorite sports bar just happens to be within a 5 minute walk of my apartment. This is where I have to go to watch Giants games when they are in direct competition with the Seahawks game.

The last time I went to watch the Gmen, I discovered another reason why I love this bar. I can't believe it took me over a year to discover this gem. At the risk of offending some of my NYC readers, I just have to share this picture because I find it that entertaining:

I know that everyone, including myself, is totally "electioned out," but I really feel like I need to share the story of my first time voting in Washington, because, well... I found it funny. So this post isn't really about the election, but rather about Larissa voting.

A lot of people I know mailed in their ballots. Personally, I find that very unsatisfying. I have very fond memories as a child being brought into the voting booth with my mother and getting to pull the big lever after she was done. I just loved the sound that made. I honestly couldn't wait to see how the polls operated in Washington.

I don't remember getting a "voter's guide" in NJ, but we get one here. It was easily half an inch thick. I thought for sure it was that thick because half of it was in Spanish, but no. I was going to be asked to vote on so many things and people that it took half an inch's worth of (recycled) paper to explain it to me. Good thing they allow you to bring that into the polls with you.

I also brought a friend with me who lives in the same polling area, expecting massive wait times. I was shocked to find that there was practically no wait at all, which was particularly surprising considering this polling station was used by 8 precincts. Each precinct had its own "checker inner." My precinct was 1711, my friend's was 1714. I immediately got confused and had my first voting blond moment. I walked up to the woman who was checking in 1711 and asked her where 1714 was. I got back to the very small group of people waiting their turn, took another look at my registration cared and realized my blond moment. So I nonchalantly walked back to the checkin for 1711 and understandably, the woman looked confused. I tried to cover up my mistake by saying that two seconds earlier I had been inquiring for a friend.

I'm pretty sure she didn't buy it because as we sat down to start the checking in process, she started talking to me veeeeerrrry slooooowly.

ME: This is my first time voting in Washington, I'm very excited.

Checker: Well, we have two ways of voting, you can fill in ballots by hand or, if it is easier for you, you can use the machine.

I looked over at the machine and there is a blind man standing there. Marginally insulted that blondness maybe considered enough of a handicap that I'd be eligible to use the machine, I opted for the manual method. The checker pulled out a very long paper and handed it to me.

Checker: Have you ever taken a standardized test?

ME: (trying to be funny) Yes, but I never did very well on them.

Checker: (clearly missing my humor and probably still wondering about my intelligence level) Well, you fill out your answers here the same way, by filling in the bubbles, but the difference is in this case, only YOU can decide if you have the right answer.

Deep... really deep.

I really enjoyed sharing my South East Asia trip with you!  And now back to our regularly scheduled program of Pacific Northwest-centric posts.

The day after Halloween, I went to an event that marked the beginning of the Oyster season.   This restaurant likes to call it the "Oyster New Year."  It was quite the bash.

I really had no idea what to expect except that there would be a LOT of oysters.  I certainly didn't expect my oyster eating partner for the evening to show up in his Halloween costume.  Needless to say, he was the ONLY person in costume and was as a result, very popular.  I mean, look at his pants, ladies.

But I digress.  The event took place under a huge tent, roughly half the size of a football field.  The raw oyster bar, the main event, snaked throughout the center of the tent, so I'm gonna guess it was almost 100 yards long.  Your ticket included UNLIMITED raw oysters, wine tastings, beer tastings, chowder, cooked seafood and dessert.  It was overwhelming to say the least.  I think I topped out at about 15 oysters, including the one I caught at the bottom of the famous "oyster luge."  Are there photos of me doing this?  Yes, one.  A polaroid.  Thank goodness not shareable here.  But here is a picture of the luge.

 

My highlight in Vietnam, by far, was Halong Bay. It is very difficult to describe what this place looks like- you just have to review the pictures - but suffice it to say that it is just gorgeous, magical and romantic. The only way to see it is by boat. We stayed on a junk overnight - and the minute you get on the boat and get a sense for what you are about to experience, you realize that one night is not even close to being enough. If I ever go back to Vietnam, I'd stay on a junk for at least two nights and three full days.





One of the most fun things to do in Halong Bay is to swim in it. Right off the boat. You just jump in and climb out using a really old metal ladder. The most entertaining part of this activity though is, the floating vendors. See, in order to swim, the boat has to stop obviously. Well, the second you are anchored, you are a sitting duck. Almost immediately, women in rowboats swarm the junk trying to sell you everything from Pringles to vodka. Have you ever bargain shopped in the water? How about haggling while treading water? No? Well these women know how to corner you - once they realize you are interested in their goods, they'll use their boat and oars to block off the ladder out of the water - your only method of escape.




There was also the option of going kayaking at sunset. True to form, I opted out of this activity to take pictures of the sunset from a dry, safe, place. In the end, it was worth it not only from a photo stand point, but because I was able to help guide the kayakers back to our junk using my camera flash.



Sunrise was pretty spectacular as well. I haven't woken up many mornings on a boat, let alone in such a gorgeous place, but I would imagine that this is pretty much as good as it gets:

Random observations on Vietnam:

The Vietnamese word for "beer" is "bia." Pronounced, "beeeyah." Who knew that Vietnamese beer came from NYC.

The nicest and most welcoming people I meet on my trip were in Vietnam. Just about everybody yells out "hello" to you as you go by and the young children like to blow kisses.

Communism is still very much a part of Vietnamese life from a social stand point. Definitely not from an economic one though. The younger generation's mantra is capitalism at it's most raw. Whatever can be done to make money, it is done.

Vietnamese have very interesting taste in western formal dress. Seriously, this was the most tame dress color and design I found:



Vietnamese are also totally obsessed with mannequins. And really odd looking mannequins, at that. Not only are the plastic dolls weird and sometimes down right disturbing, but they are also dressed strangely. Almost all adult mannequins with trousers on, have them unzipped - and not subtly so. It is really quite shocking. And almost any mannequin modeling any kind of jeans has its rear facing the street.

Here are some random photos from Vietnam that don't fit under as specific category or story. Just liked them.

While walking the streets of Hoi An at 6:30am, on a Sunday, (the only time to see this charming town without tourist running through it) I suddenly heard the distinct chimes of an ice cream truck. Admittedly odd for so early in the day, but this part of the world, up until this point of my trip had proven to do a lot of things differently. It was continuous and alluring... I mean, what American can resist Mr. Softee? My ears immediately perked up as I tried to figure out where it was or what direction it was going. As the song got louder, my salivation and anticipation increased dramatically until I realized that the ice cream music was coming from a garbage truck. Definitely NOT the same thing as an ice cream truck.

Apparently, garbage trucks play this music to remind locals to bring out their trash. Since trash is collected everyday, the decision was made to play this happy music because it would be more pleasing to the tourists than a loud clanging alarm bell. Good call... but what, please tell, does the ice cream truck play?

You know you've been caught in a monsoon when:

Regardless of any rain gear you have on, you are still completely soaked through.

Your jeans glisten.

You start channeling Gene Kelly and dance in the rain.

Streets morph into rivers before your eyes.

You have to shout over the sound of the rain.

The floor of your 3rd floor hotel room becomes flooded.

Street signs are boating hazards.

You just keep wearing the same wet clothes each day because, what is the point?

While having a nice dinner out, the restaurant proprietor suggest that, "You leave now" because you might actually not make it back to your hotel without having to swim there if you don't leave immediately.

And in case you were wondering what the aftermath of a monsoon looks like, here are some shots of Hoi An, Vietnam before a monsoon:







.......And here are some shots AFTER:

Notes on Vietnamese traffic:

There are easily 60 motorbikes per car.

Motorbikes can hold generally up to 5 people at one time. If you use a childseat, you can generally only fit 3. Including the kid. Most drivers have helmets and masks to protect from injury and pollution. Sometimes, drivers are nice enough to provide one or both of those to their passengers:



You may wonder what they do during the monsoon season - whatever they have to to keep themselves dry.




It is clear that motorbikes are popular not only because they are cheaper, but because they are so much more maneuverable. There is also no place to park cars anywhere.

There is actually no place to park motorbikes either, generally... unless you count the sidewalk. Motorbikes are permitted to not only park on the sidewalk, but drive on the sidewalk. The curbs are even inclined to make this easier.

What this means is, the only place for pedestrians to walk, is on the street. The trouble is, by doing so, you've effectively become part of the flow of traffic. On a wider street, this is inconvenient, but when you are sauntering down a narrow market street that is lined on both sides by women selling fish and meat, having a motorbike beep at you and push you into a stall of raw meat is, well, irritating. After a while, you just start yelling, "yeah.. yeah" dismissively like a grumpy New York cabbie every time a motorbike nearly rides up your leg. Again, if only I could show you the video I took to illustrate how maniacal this traffic is. Here is what mothers who are taking their toddlers out for a stroll look like - see the traffic whizzing by them? They are actually pushing the strollers on the street:



This is what kids have to do while walking down the street.. keep in mind.. this is only going DOWN a street.. not across it. We'll get to that in a minute:



Crossing the street requires a total leap of faith. There are "cross walks" but those are totally ignored by all traffic. To cross the street, you essentially have to just start walking into the traffic. At first, this is extremely daunting - you have hundreds of motorbikes going by at about 20-30 miles an hour. It is definitely a little like that old 80's video game, "Frogger." The rule is simple... you walk across the street in a steady pace, watching the vehicles around you, but you never, start to run. This confuses the drivers, apparently, who are trying to drive around you as you cross their path. Tourists, upon arrival at a major Vietnamese city inevitably face the traffic situation with understandable trepidation. This is why you will often see a bunch of westerners standing on the side of a street paralyzed. The issue is, even if you think you've looked both ways and are sure that at least for the next 5 seconds or so you will not get hit by anything on the road, that doesn't mean that a motorbike driving on the sidewalk won't hit you while you are standing there. The good thing is, if you are a girl, a Vietnamese woman (usually a much older woman) will inevitably take pity on you, take your arm and help you across. Never thought an 80 year old woman would ever help ME cross the street at my age, but there you go. Usually they do so quite happily with a giggle and a smile.

I'll close this post with an artsy fartsy traffic shot. It wasn't meant to be this artsy, but it was the only one I got of what a florist looks like while making a delivery in Vietnam at it is really the site to see:

Here are some random shots from Cambodia that I liked that don't fall under a specific or interesting category.

I didn't realize that the world's largest fresh water fish resource is in Cambodia. It is a remarkable place and is a major reason why so many of Cambodia's neighbors have tried to take the country over:



Cambodians (and Vietnamese, as it turned out) ride motorcycles, rather than cars generally. They are cheaper and more maneuverable than cars on the horrible roads previously mentioned. The issue is, how exactly do you transport stuff - lots of stuff, if you only have a motorbike...like chickens.. or limes...




I have a picture of a live cow strapped to the back of a motorbike as well, but that might be seriously upsetting to some of you who read this blog, so I won't post that, but I figure just mentioning it will give you the visual.

Lotus flowers are everywhere - literally anywhere there is standing water that is not a rice field. Lots of the architecture is modeled after the bud. Here is what it looks like when it has bloomed:



Phenom Penh is the capital of Cambodia. There is a lot of horrible history here that I learned about and have no desire to share with you. I will admit this much though - I had no idea how awful things were for this country during my life time. It was a real shock to the system. Having said that, there is a beautiful royal palace in the city itself which somehow managed to stay in good shape: