6/28/08 gunshots at dinner time. and pot shots for lunch.

wake up around 8.
shampoo venture.
our very off neighbor kept yelling at his wife and kids. "Quit pretending like you know how to do everything! Watch me take the tent down."
Pack up tent and car, and move to the hostel in Seattle.
Take the ferry over the Puget Sound, and check in.
The Green Tortoise in farrr better than the hostel we stayed at in Barcelona...
This is the view from my window:



leave to find food. Loose my pillow.
Eat a burrito the size of my head.
The street over from us, some guy fires off an entire clip. Cops circle the block.
yeah.
head back to the hostel.

THE RACIST ALGERIANS:
so we meet our room mates in the hostel. Well, two of them. These two guys from brooklyn, who kept talking about Philadelphia, being over run by a specific culture. Though, those words weren't quite used... It seemed to awkwardly go on forever.
So, we dodged them for the rest of our short period at the hostel.

THE OBNOXIOUS AMERICAN:
In the rec room, the hostel has drinking games, we just watched. Really we were watching this obnoxious American kid from Delaware, no less, make an ass out of himself, explaining to kids from Germany and Australia and England how to play the drinking game: Kings. "I'm the American, you should listen to me. I know how it is played." he kind of sucked.

DODGED CRAZY HOMELESS PEOPLE LIKE ZOMBIES IN DAWN OF THE DEAD.
there really is way too many homeless people in Seattle.
Strike that, there really are way to many crazy people in Seattle, that should be institutionalized. On every street, there are about 15 people with those eyes. You know them... you look at them, and immediately you understand that they are on a completely different plane of existence from you. It got really awkward, because there was this half naked guy in a cowboy hat that would run into Craig and I as we tried to make our way to the liquor store. It was really, really, sad. And really, really creepy. That sub culture is rich, and thick, and quite heavy. Seattle is shell. And it can't keep it's clothes on.

After, making it back to the hostel... we climbed up on the roof, where this couple was making out, stared into the rectangular windows of the life box living next to our hostel, and talked about how much we hated Seattle. Each rectangle, glowing with its kens and barbies and charlies. It is funny the conclusions you can make from the snippets of life that you see. Like a shirt, a bike, a pair of pants, a car, a window, the man walking around naked on his balcony... none of them mean anything. The truth is in the sunken eyes of the twitching meth-head below us. Who I don't want to touch or talk to me.

when we retreat back in to sleep, the young married couple show us photos of odd birds for 30 minutes.