Daring Young Mom

Meet me at the top of the Space Needle on Valentine’s Day?

Okay. I just did. Where were you?

So Valentine’s dinner in the rotating restaurant atop the Space Needle will run you a flat $95 per person before tax and gratuity (A tip is what you pay at Denny’s.)

We thought this would be quite romantic but decided to go for lunch instead. Lunch is reasonable. At lunch, a burger only costs $24 dollars and it comes with free french fries and a bed of lettuce. I think they even throw in a tomato. Very doable. I’m surprised we don’t go there all the time.

Dan and I drove downtown, listening to Kelly Clarkson sing songs of teenage pop star angst and betrayal. Mucho romantico. We used the sweet Valet parking at the foot of the Needle and headed in to the front desk where we were given our “boarding passes” to the Sky City Restaurant (I know, very “George Jetson-esque” was this date.)

We then rode up 520 feet in the glass elevator with a be-purple-vested man who described himself as our 41-second tour guide.

Once we were seated, I started taking pictures like mad. The main problem I had was trying to get a good shot of the skyline. For the life of me, I could not find the Space Needle. It seriously took me a couple of seconds to realize I was in it.

Our waitress said she recognized me from somewhere and my immediate thought was….”She must read my BLOG!” Um….I’m glad now that I didn’t suggest that. I can just imagine it. “What’s a bl-og?” “Um…never mind.” I don’t know. Hundreds of people world-wide read this blog. There’s a chance that my waitress was randomly a reader…right? Okay, I’m a loser. Moving on.

What’s the deal with Ciabatta bread? It’s everywhere and I have no idea why. A year ago, I had never heard of the stuff and now it’s taking over the world. I don’t even think it’s all that great. Let’s put it this way – If Ciabatta bread were running for President, I’d probably vote for Ralph Nader.

Dan asked if the burger was anything special and the waitress said, “It’s made with premium GROUND beef.” Ooooo, the big sell. This burger is made with GROUND BEEF! Get OUT!

She then sealed the deal by saying, “Everyone’s gotta try a $24 hamburger once in their life, right?”

Yes, yes they do.

I chose the Rare Ahi with Wasabi Mashed Potatoes and Baby Bok Choy. Delicioso. Delicioso and Daring. This menu option had an asterisk that warned that eating it would increase my risk of foodborne illness.

It also had a Wasabi garnish around the outside which I took to be some sort of avocado paste but was actually a burning goo of torture and death. DO NOT EAT A LARGE FORKFULL OF WASABI – EVER.

The waitress brought us a small bowl of salt with a tiny spoon (I guess shakers are things you use at Denny’s).

During the course of the meal we rotated twice around the space needle. The lady at the table next to us was wearing the same red turtle neck I was planning on wearing but decided against last minute. Phew! That was close. Instead I went with a black ensemble with subtle pink highlights.

Later last night Karli came over to deliver a Valentine’s treat and medical supplies (see LoveFest Part 2), wearing THE SAME THING. No, this was not planned. Weird, huh?

During the meal, Dan noticed what looked like some WI-FI antennas so I tried to hack into the Space Needle secret death ray detonation system with my PDA. It was a no-go. Seattle is still intact.

I resisted the urge to make “that noise” on the rim of my crystal glass.

Dan and I discussed whether it was better to tip your valet before or after he takes your car. If you tip him before, he may take better care of it. When my parents lived in South America as spies for the Canadian government (Oops! Was I not supposed to mention that?) people used to always offer to “watch their car.” This meant, “if you don’t give me money, you will no longer have a car when you get back.”

If you tip him after, then I don’t know what, but I think you’re supposed to tip him after. Who knows? Is it you?

Dan gave me some chocolates and a card that made me cry in a good way.

We ordered the Exploding Fog Lunar Module Sundae desert which is ice cream with a whole lot of theatrics and a peppermint sprig.

I dropped him back at MegaCorp and headed home where I found lovely flowers waiting for me on the doorstep with a note that read, “I love my sweetheart!” Delivered flowers are just so uber-cool.

What a fun and romantic day!

Whilst taking pictures of said gorgeous delivered flowers on the doorstep…….(please see next post)

After many requests from readers, my parents have officially started blogs.

Okay they didn’t start them.

I did.

BUT they’ve both posted at least once. They may not post again.

But then they might.

And if they do, it will be well worth the read.

Introducing Grammy and Papa Daring.

You empty everything… faster than I can refill it.

Today you snapped the wooden handle off a basket that Laylee has played with peacefully for 3 years.

You put everything in your mouth at all times.

You flail and splash like a water-churning-psycho-bot in the bath tub, never caring that your face is so covered in liquid that you can barely breathe.

You want the blinds to go DOWN in a blaze of glory.

You see it as your mission in life to have your hands sucked up in the whirly part of the vacuum cleaner and live to tell the tale…hopefully live. From what I have observed, you do not fear death.

You knock over chairs, big ones.

You eat twice as much food as Laylee, who is 2 years older than you.

You get injured frequently and while I’m distracted attending to your wounds, you move quickly on to the next venture of destruction.

You dismantled the door stopper the first time you came in contact with it…in 10 seconds flat and started sucking on the little white choking hazard tip at the end.

Breastfeeding involves sucking for 10 seconds, unlatching, laughing hysterically and attacking me for 60 seconds. You want to WRASTLE!

You also want to ingest my laptop and seem willing to use any means necessary to achieve that end.

But you know what? You’ve started crawling around the house at lightning speed, looking for me, and chanting “Ma ma ma ma ma ma ma MUMMMMM!”

I like you. You are a boy. I’m a bit scared. But I still like you.

Well, I’m surprised how few people guessed the truth, especially since my parents both came on gave the correct answer.

1. As for The Apprentice, I never auditioned but I did think about it. I’m sure I wouldn’t have made it to the third round of auditions though. But it’s fun to think about. What I really wanted to be on was Survivor…until I had kids…and a life. I’ve even downloaded the application and started filling it out.

3. I can play the piano well, the guitar and the flute semi-pathetically, but can make no music with my navel. If you count making percussion sounds on various hard surfaces in my home, it may come close to eight, but not ten. Yes Maki, I was a band girl and am currently teaching piano.

4. When I lose weight, it definitely comes off the “top” first. My feet are only affected by pregnancy. I made up the little “ham feet” thing as a tribute to Magoo, whose feet look like little puff pastries with grapes for toes.

5. Also, I have used an umbrella…a couple of times…when we first moved here…and were basically tourists. Real Seattleites don’t mind a little “moisture.”

So it looks like Lauren and may parents (duh! They were living with me at the time) are the only three who succeeded at our little guessing game.

When I was 17 years old, I went to the DPS in Houston to renew my driver’s license. I entered the office wearing my National Honor Society t-shirt, carrying my Franklin planner and I believe my hair was in pigtails.

They took my license behind the counter and ran it through a scanner, at which point the dot-matrix printer went nuts, spitting out a page that labeled my license as “red-hot.” “Hmmm,” I asked, “what does that mean?”

“It means there is a warrant out for your arrest. Please stay where you are.”

“What is it for?” I asked, amused. I had never so much as been pulled over for spitting out my car window.

The computer wouldn’t say why I was supposedly “red-hot” but I had a warrant out for my arrest for unknown reasons. They explained that I was not being arrested, but instead “forcibly detained.”

They sat me in a back room with a police officer at a desk and a young teenager who was handcuffed to his chair. I found the whole thing incredibly exciting. I chatted to the “prisoner” who was unwilling to engage in banter. I spoke with the police officer.

“Does this happen a lot? Do lots of people have warrants out for their arrest by mistake? Are you going to handcuff me? Could you take my picture? No one will BELIEVE this happened to me. No, seriously, do you have a camera? How long have you worked here? This is so weird. I’ve never even had a ticket…..”

Eventually I think I annoyed them into letting me go. The officer looked at me with his most stern expression and said, “It looks like this may have been a computer malfunction. We’ll look into it but if the warrant is legit, we WILL find you.”

“Okay.”

So there you have it. A warrant out for my arrest in the state of Texas. And they never were able to find me. My youth group toured a police station later and I asked our tour guide to look up my criminal record in the database. He said that my record showed that something was there but had been erased. Hm.