Seattle: Deja Vu In The Emerald City

In many ways, I feel that returning to a place for a second time is like returning home after four years at college. Everything is still the same, but something feels a little different now. Maybe it’s you, or maybe it’s that new strip mall down the street. Either way, something has changed.

I was just in Seattle for a long weekend back in February. Now, I am here for a full ten days. During this time, The Boyfriend and I get to act as tourists while we scout out future places to live. Since relocating is inevitable, plans must be made. A lot of plans.

The Boyfriend has fallen head over heels for this city. While I have my reservations (ahem, rent prices) I must admit that Seattle carries more than enough charm. That grassy hill overlooking the sea right by Pike Place with blue skies and a light breeze? Yeah, we get it Seattle, you’re fucking awesome.

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Of course, I have spent the majority of my time here eating, eating, and eating. I have eaten my way through Pike Place, the route back to the car, the route to the restaurant, and the route home from the restaurant.

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Being here again has allowed us to experience new things while also redoing parts of our last trip that did not go as well. In doing so, I have found comfort in the nooks and crannies of this overwhelming beast.

As we exited the Ferris wheel at the boardwalk by the aquarium, we found ourselves at a familiar restaurant in the KOMO Plaza. Sport was the name. It was nothing fancy, but the food was good and parking was decent. We’d found ourselves there several times before. We always ordered the mozzarella squares. I always got a coffee with cream.

“I guess this is our hangout,” The Boyfriend joked. I looked out the window, where a steady rain hit the umbrellas of the tables outside. I realized that I knew every building in the plaza and across the street. I knew this menu, these waitresses, even the code to the bathroom.

Indeed, this was our hangout. I wasn’t sure how I felt about having a routine in a place where I did not live yet.

More than once, I have forgotten that I am not in Anchorage anymore. Maybe it’s because the air still tastes like sea salt and trash, and the people meander instead of pressing forward in a pack. Either way, it’s thrown me for a loop.

Seattle, at times, seems impossible to conquer. It is so big and intricately woven that I find myself afraid to explore as I have in the past. I have never felt so daunted, so lost, or so at home in one place.

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We still have eight days here. In that time, we will also be traveling to Gig Harbor and Portland. These little side trips might help to ground me a bit, and will also give me a chance for more photos. One thing that I have learned from Seattle is that nothing inspires me to photograph more than travel.

Until next time, stay hipster.

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