NYC

Several trips to NYC involving a list of iconic sites one MUST see. Then there was this trip.

Drinks
Brunch = Miss Sanborn!
Restaurants.
Subway.
Shops.
Restaurants.
Drinks.
Afternoon in Central Park.
Biking from the Upper East Side to the Lower East Side.
Restaurants.
Drinks.
Brunch.







I had an absolutely great trip. We did so many things and ate amazing food and saw just about every neighborhood in Manhattan. Doreen was a gracious host and I couldn't have asked for a better tour guide. Its interesting though, inescapably I was seeing the city through the eyes of my friend Do who happily and successfully lives in Manhattan. I constantly marveled at what it takes for her to live in New York and felt myself feeling truly lucky to live in Seattle. NOT because New York isn't incredible, exciting, fascinating and truly unique - but because I learned a few things about myself along the way:

I love the air in Seattle - fresh, clean and just slightly salty.
I love the copious amounts of absolutely fresh food within an arm's reach of any neighborhood or dwelling.
I love that in just about every direction of Seattle there is an outdoor adventure just waiting to push my physical limits and allow me to relax and leave the city behind.
I love that the West Coast is pretty relaxed in nature. It makes me relax.
I love to cook and entertain and have the space to do so.
I love to bike.

And its not to say that these can't be accomplished in NYC. I guess I just really like where I live. And I like space. And I like getting outside. To stretch. To reset the inner soul and make me feel alive.

Um, and absolutely lovely seeing my wonderful, gorgeous (and pregnant) college girlfriend, Suz. I feel like I've said this before, but she's a dream in that I may not have talked to her for weeks, months at a time and yet, she is such an ease to be around. I loved seeing you, Suz!


I did stand in front of the famous steps of Carrie Bradshaw's brownstone. Such a tourist!

Jim Ryan.

Today, a good friend of mine said goodbye to his Father. After battling cancer, Jim Ryan passed away this morning with his entire family around him. I realize that when people pass, often times their loved ones and friends gather to tell stories and reflect on that person, their life and all of the amazing things he or she did while living here on this earth. I will say though, I've never felt more strongly about the stories and attributes Jim's loving friends and family celebrating on this day. Jim was one of the warmest people I've ever encountered. Standing tall and slightly intimidating knowing he was an exceptionally powerful and successful business man, he ALWAYS made you feel welcome and at ease. His smile. His warmth. His charm and his wit. And the way he asked you questions truly interested in the answers made you feel like he was really trying to get to know you. Jim had eight children, one of which I'm lucky enough to call a friend. And even with all of those kids, their friends, six grandkids, a thriving business and countless friends he was always at home with his family when I was lucky enough to spend time with Tim at their lake house. Happily offering up one of his "famous bootlegs" drinks that his wife Colleen rolled her eyes at because the fact that he had to run the blender for obscene amounts of time drove her nuts. They were married for 37 years and in their presence I felt their connection, their dedication and their respect for each other. I've read the stories in the guestbook from countless people who worked for Jim describing their appreciation and gratitude for even having the chance to work for someone like him. He will be missed by so many people. My heart goes out to Tim and I wish I was there to give him a hug so badly during this time. His dad's memory and the impact he's had on so many people will live on, and I hope he and his family are tipping back some bootlegs and telling some great stories right now.

The Ryan family and their loving parents have touched my life forever. I'm sad Jim has left us, but I'm grateful for the time I was able to share with him and the impact he's made on his family, his workplace and this earth.

RIP.

cute little people.

Maren's Fourth Birthday Video from Sally K Zimney on Vimeo.

brown bean.

When I was little I would spend the entire day outside playing. My skin would be so tan by the middle of summer that my mom would say I looked just like a "brown bean". I nearly spent the entire last weekend outside and not only do I look like a brown bean, but it was awesome.

Volunteer park on a blanket reading with B for several hours in a bikini. I realize I'm not in my twenties anymore so the concept of "laying out" isn't really something I'm into, but my skin was so pale I looked dead. A little color never hurt anyone. Maybe. I have to say it feels good to look alive again.

A jog, a shower and then Tyson arrived in Seattle from the peninsula. We spent the entire day Sunday on our bikes. We biked over to the Pike Place market for a wine and cheese festival and then sat with some margaritas.



Stopped by a minor league baseball game. Headed over to Queen Anne for tacos. To a lacrosse game with friends. And back up to Capitol Hill by 6:30pm for some grilling on my deck. Glorious are the days of blue skies and 70+ temperatures.

I'm heading to NYC on a jet plane Saturday morning. Posts to come next week. Happy Holiday!

Happy Birthday, Maren.

Well, its May 20th. On this day in 2005 an incredibly beautiful baby girl was born. The first baby of the Zimney family. Maren. Oh the excitement! I have to say, I wasn't very comfortable holding babies at the time and I was nervous, upon arrival at the hospital, at the prospect of not only having to hold the baby but [gasp!] be watched holding the baby. Looking back, so much of my life at the time seemed under a microscope. Today, I'm still no expert in the baby arena, but there's an ease involved that I've never felt before. A comfort in the fact that the teeny tiny baby just wants to be held. To feel love and warmth. And I'm excited to hold them! For hours. Or to wave at the population under the age of two in restaurants. So much fun. For lack of a more original and less obvious phrase they are so...fresh and new and bright-eyed and full of wonder. I love to get the attention of a little peanut and say things in high-pitched tones just trying to get some attention. Or better yet, a laugh.

Maren is four years old today! And though I'm her Godmother, I hardly feel a closeness one might hope to feel with their Godmother. Unfortunate and unplanned circumstances have made this relationship not altogether ideal. I hope that at some point in our lives she and I will sit together and enjoy eachothers' company. I hope we will laugh, tell stories, ask questions and see each other as important people to one another. And I hope she'll understand, as I've had to realize, that nothing in life is ever certain. Life happens when we're making plans. This isn't a bad thing! Life is an adventure. We must grab ahold of it and no matter what twists and turns may come up, we need to appreciate those around us and appreciate the gift that is life.

Happy Birthday, Maren. I wish I was there to give you a hug. Probably squeeze you in an uncomfortable way that makes you want to run to your mom, but there nonetheless.

And maybe crazy to say, but I love you!

stolen.

"I must learn to love the fool in me--the one who feels too much, talks too much, takes too many chances, wins sometimes and loses often, lacks self-control, loves and hates, hurts and gets hurt, promises and breaks promises, laughs and cries. It alone protects me against that utterly self-controlled, masterful tyrant whom I also harbor and who would rob me of human aliveness, humility, and dignity but for my fool." -- Theodore I. Rubin, MD


From a great blog I've recently been reading. I love this quote. Sort of a disclaimer for all the things we do in life - great or not so great, dumb or brilliant. Celebrate being who you are! Whoever that is...

pals.

I sit next to little Aylin at work every day. Our chairs are about four feet away from each other and though we chat verbally most of the time, we also spend a considerable amount of time on gchat passing quotes, links, articles and stupid humor only she and I would understand. Its rare when you find someone who shares your stupid humor and I have to say, I love my little Aylin.

She invited Tyson and I to her brunch birthday and it just so happened to be a glorious, sunny day of about 70 degrees. Knowing her husband Steve is an amazing cook, I skipped breakfast to make room for as much delicious food as possible. And stuff my face I did with biscuits and gravy, fresh fruit with mint leaves, scrambled eggs with mushrooms and truffle oil and roasted potatoes.


Here is my sweet Aylin in a croquet birthday rage. Awwww.

Sigh...

Something's up.

The weather is ish.

My list-making-crossing-things-off self is feeling sluggish. My usual sprite-like cheer has gone on vacation and left me a little impatient and grumpy. I realize a lot of it has to do with my lack of Tyson. My lack of the usual routine. I need to find a new routine - my own routine. I don't know, I think I'm allowed to lay around and be sluggish for a few days after my boyfriend leaves town for the summer. What's funny is I don't like feeling that way. I like having a lot of things to do and feeling accomplished and being social and filling up my calendar. This week I've only had the energy to work out, make dinner and watch movies and episodes of Entourage. Oh and a glass of wine in-hand. Don't forget that.

So I contacted the Seattle Girls School yesterday. I signed up to become a mentor for one of their students. I sent in the application and am set to attend the info session in early June. I LOVE the concept of the school: young women between grades 5-8 in an alternative learning environment that promotes strength, confidence and decision-making. I dunno, the remnants of my memories from those years consist of being mean to other girls and feeling really insecure myself. The program is structured so you and your mentee attend one group event each month and then arrange for at least one other meeting, hike, school sports event, homework session etc; a month also. Its designed to give the girls another adult figure to spend some time with who isn't their parents. Here's a quote from their website:
At SGS, girls will have their interests developed, their ideas tested, their hearts opened, their confidence ignited, and their idealism respected.

Awesome. What a great way to start figuring out who you are and what you want in life.

And I nearly signed up for the Portland Marathon (October 4) but a co-worker talked me off the ledge five minutes ago. The Sigh...ledge. Feeling anxious to get out and do something! At least I leave for NYC next weekend.

On another note, I've recently acquired some new readers. At least I think so. I don't have any tracking methods in place, but I passed the blog onto Tyson's family, my mom's co-workers are on board, and a recent comment from a "Chupacabra" makes me wonder just who IS reading this thing. Fun! Oh and my grandma reads it on Sundays. Anyway, I only hope I still feel the freedom to write and post stupid, mindless streaming thought sometimes. And I hope those of you who take the time to read anything I write, will find it in your soul not to pass judgment. I can be opinionated! I mean, can't we just recognize that gay rights are civil rights?! Human rights!?

And at the end of the day, I'm just happy that when my status on gmail was "Biker bitch", Tyson's mom thought it was "cute". That's my kinda gal. Wink.

moto.

Tyson took a motorcycle class and then purchased a motorcycle recently. Yep. I never ever thought I would date someone who would ride a moto, but I guess I think its kinda hot now. It helps Tyson isn't a testosterone freak but rather a rule-following, safety man who just likes to feel the wind in his hair. Or something. Plus I haven't even sat on the thing. Yet.

Quily.

We moved Tyson out to the Olympic peninsula this past weekend, marking the start of his summer/fall Ranger position in the Olympic National Forest. Of course I had to have a few emotional meltdowns beforehand but by 9pm Saturday we had the car packed and we were ready to spend a few hours enjoying each others' company before a summer spent apart. I use Apart loosely in that I'm already going to see him Friday.

Overall I feel really great about Tyson working on the peninsula for the summer. I am thrilled for him and his opportunity to advance in a career doing something he loves. The prospect of visiting him is awesome considering Tyson is living in one of the most beautiful places in Washington state. I will now have loads of time to read, and run and cook and sew and clean and bike and see friends and do the things I love to do. We will still be able to embark on many a camping trip and already have plans to kayak the San Juan islands and backpack Mt. St. Helens this summer. Its pretty darn great.

But when the moment came to say goodbye on Sunday night, I was really, really sad. We were both sad. We hugged for a solid twenty minutes and it started to hit me how much I was going to miss the weeknight dinners and evening runs and just every day life with Tyson available for any and all good times. And the laughs! He's my best friend. And I'll miss him. When I drove away I waved and looked at him in the rearview mirror. Right in that moment, a whole new chapter had begun.

We were able to spend some time on the peninsula after moving Tyson into his new home. I made him cheesily pose in front of the Ranger Station sign and his house.

And here are some lovely mountains right out the front door:


We took a small tour of Quilcene and then headed over to Port Townsend - a larger town of about 9,000 people and known as a Victorian seaport and artist community. Along the way, hand-painted signs hug the road offering oysters, clams, crab and all manner of deliciousness. We spend the afternoon playing on the beach of a state park looking out at the mountains and hitting rocks with sticks. As always, good times.






I'm so proud of you, Tyson. Miss you!

Neighbors.

Tyson's best friends from Chicago (U of I) flew in last weekend for a visit. Dave and Jen. I had never met them, and after a couple years of stories and pictures I was eager to finally get to know them a little bit. Um, and now I want them to live next door. Or possibly on a commune with us in the future or something.

They arrived late last Thursday and we spent a few hours chatting before going to sleep. Friday was jam packed: Canoeing at the Arboretum, Pike's Market for LOTS of seafood, a happy hour beer at the Pink Door and then back to my place for grilling and relaxing on my roof. Salmon, mussels, a whole crab, tuna and halibut = Feast of amazing delight.






Early on I started realizing the similarities of Jen and I: We have the same taste in design and furniture. We share similar views on a lot of "hot button" topics. Similar fashion sense and we both now own the same pair of shoes. We enjoy cooking and hiking and running.

And, we have the same taste in men! Seriously. Tyson and Dave are hilarious together. Nearly the same person hilarious. Same height and build. Same color eyes. Same temperament. Relaxed and comfortable to be around. Genuine and sincere. Same little games. Same humor. So often we would catch ourselves laughing at them and their adorable friendship. Here they are catching up over an intense game of battleship.


We rounded out the weekend with some pinball at Shorty's. Some sandwiches at Paseo. And a little time running around Discovery Park. I wish we were doing it all again this weekend.



It was so great to meet Jen and Dave. I honestly felt a little deflated after we dropped them at the airport. Bummed out. Like life is more fun with Dave and Jen around. This is why we've concocted the dream of possibly becoming neighbors some day. I really like this dream. I see a garden, a woodshed, shared closets, shared meals and lots of good times.

Caught.

Taken by Tyson's sister, Tracy. That's sort of a tongue twister.

dreaming and walking.

This morning I rolled over, rubbed my eyes and spotted a stack of plates on top of my dresser. Forks placed neatly next to that stack. "Why are there plates on my..." OH! And I remembered.

I've always talked in my sleep. And occasionally I'll catch myself sitting up in bed acting out some scene from my dreams. But never have I actually left the bed, feet touching the floor and moved about for any length of time.

Last night I got up from bed and went to the kitchen to grab four plates and four forks. I stacked them on my dresser and went back to bed. Freaky, right? I think so.

What's next? -going out into the hallway or walking down the street?

willing summer.