Abandonment... x 2

For those of you who may or may not have been aware, Emily has left to go complete her education at the University of Texas in Austin... um, Texas. She took Rachel: the Volleyball Edition with her, so I'm sure that we can all anticipate many hilarious photos from that particular adventure. As far as I can tell from the text messages and Facebook posts, she made it safe and had a good time along the way.

We took Rachel: the Volleyball Edition out for a final spin in Washington about a week ago, on what had to be the PRETTIEST DAY in Seattle in a year. A sunny Sunday, not a cloud in the sky. What my dad likes to call, "excellent sunburn weather." We dressed up in pretty sundresses, grabbed Rachel and some coffee and Emily took me on a brief whirlwind tour of downtown Bothell. I got to see the creeeeepy cutouts of the butcher and the pharmacist (who clearly was using some of his products, with that way-too-happy smile). If you ever have a chance to get out to the 'burbs, I recommend taking them in.

Having trolled downtown Bothell for all it was worth, we then decided it was time to hit the beach at Golden Gardens. Only, by then, it was the afternoon. And anyone in their right minds knows, you don't start heading to the beach in the afternoon on a beautiful day. Because everyone's already there, and parking's a disaster, and you really don't want to listen to that many kids screaming anyway... Plus we couldn't find parking. So Golden Gardens was out and we sought the shady relief of the Arboretum instead.

After parking by the Japanese gardens and thinking we would take Rachel for a spin through them, we realized we were certainly not in the mood to pay for admission. So we took her through the ENTIRE PARK until we got to the part by Lake Washington, right next to the lulling sounds of the 520 bridge. There were lots of kayakers and canoeists (I have not idea if that's grammatically correct) from UW, and lots of shade mixed with sun. On the way back, we got to sneak through the background of some wedding photographs. We didn't photobomb, thought the temptation was immense. I took this photo along the way:

Another trip back to Bothell for burgers and a trip to Denny Park on Lake Washington to dip our feet in the water and chew on food. It was a pretty great day, all in all, and I got a nasty sunburn to boot, which I always consider a win.

Emily took off on Sunday (I think, though I'm sure she will post to confirm the whole thing) and yesterday I got this photo from her:

Roswell? Who knows! More to come...

Rachel/Wilson's First Outing: A Belated Tale of Sunshine and Seattle

On the first day of legitimate sunshine, Megan and I decided to take our volleyball friend out for the day. After going to a training session for the Frye, I met Megan and Rachel/Wilson for lunch. I brought with me a fellow gallery guide, also named Rachel - things quickly became strange and we decided to refer to the volleyball as Wilson to make things less confusing. This choice also diminished our creepiness factor, if only slightly.

The four of us walked up and down the whole length of Broadway, trying to decide on a restaurant, something that works better when someone has an opinion they are willing to voice. This was not the case.

Eventually, we overcame our indecision and had a lovely meal outside of Julia's, where we were waited on constantly by at least four different employees. Either they wanted to make sure we weren't forgotten or our main waitress just kept telling her coworkers to go check out the table with three girls and an anthropomorphized volleyball.


After lunch the human Rachel left us and we continued our walk down Broadway while deciding what to do next.

The thing about carrying Rachel/Wilson around is that you tend to forget she's there, much like a purse or shopping bag. So walking down the street several people stared oddly at us (not too frequently though, remember, this was Capitol Hill) and we wouldn't have a clue why we were attracting such attention. Then we would remember that we're nonchalantly crossing the street with Rachel's visage on a volleyball under my arm.

In this manner we walked down to the waterfront, where we sat and discussed our lives, boys, etc. Rachel sat there in smug silence.


Then we found an antique shop to play in.


Megan found a bunch of street signs and looked for one she might want, but none were from an appropriate neighborhood.

We also placed Rachel/Wilson on the scale of eternal judgment, but I'm not really sure what the results mean. She might be a witch, but there were no waterfowl about for comparison.


The three of us continued down the waterfront almost to the sketchy dock area, then up through Pioneer Square and caught a bus-thing back to downtown. (This may or may not have been a light rail: it lived underground.)

Trekking back towards Megan's apartment we discovered a brand new Forever 21 had opened where Old Navy used to be. It then became a necessity that we explore said store (Rachel would have wanted it that way). There were many clothes. There was also much chaos and no bathroom. Three floors of clothes and no bathroom - how is that a good idea Forever 21, how?

Despite all the chaos, Megan and I both managed to find cute clothes to buy. Rachel/Wilson lacked her namesake's characteristic skill and helpfulness in this department.

All in all it was a surprisingly eventful day. Rachel/Wilson was completely worn out and took a nap in my car while Megan and I went to the bookstore. She needed to rest and recuperate for our next adventure...

Cryptozoology

Talking with Rachel on Skype is a little like trying to capture footage of Bigfoot.

You wait long hours for her to appear and, suddenly, there she is! You throw out a phone call, hoping for a little conversation, maybe just to learn more about the journeys of this elusive creature, but what you get is garbled and unclear. She keeps disappearing, because either she or her internet connection is wary of humans, and sometimes all you get is a tantalizing moment of discernible words before she vanishes again into the wilds of Japan.

In the end, you're left with nothing but a few fragments of information to sustain your faith that contact can be made, even while the skeptical masses express their disbelief.

Coping Strategy #2

Making a replacement Rachel.

When your friend leaves you with only a gaping chasm where she used to be, the obvious solution is to create a surrogate friend.

Because Wilson seemed to be such a pleasant companion in Castaway, we decided to make a similar substitute for Rachel... only with paint, not blood.

So on Sunday we set to work.




So you can see, paint + volleyball + a little ingenuity = admirable substitute for an absent friend.

She almost immediately jumped in and began participating in our activities:

Doing homework



Watching Firefly



And just chilling at Megan's apartment



We think she's very much like the real Rachel, if a bit rounder and more body-less.

Also, this version of Rachel can be thrown, spiked, hit, and generally used to vent pent-up frustration. The original version is far less well-suited for this.

Coping Strategy #1

I am used to talking to Rachel all the time, multiple times every day in fact. Now, instead, I am starting to leave my Skype up ALL the time, so she can contact me any time she happens to be online.

Taking Rachel to the airport... and other adventures

Emily and I took Rachel to the airport this morning. After a night of good friends, wine, packing, and no sleep. We managed to fit her two huge suitcases and overstuffed carryon, plus all three girls in Emily's Chevy... and did I mention we had no sleep? I got to ride in the back, bumping along with one of the suitcases, talking at a volume entirely inappropriate for 4:30 in the morning. We made an emergency stop for last minute supplies (I will refrain from mentioning what supplies, in case any boys are reading) at the local QFC, and then hit the road to the airport. The drive there was relatively uneventful. Dropping her off at the United terminal was sad, and I confess I got a little teary saying goodbye FOR A WHOLE YEAR. Emily and I jetted off from the terminal, and here's where the real fun begins. I am normally great at directions. I mean really amazing at giving directions, with references to landmarks or compass navigation depending on who I'm directing. Yet somehow, I managed to get us going the wrong way on 518 so that we wound up in Burien. Then I put us on the 509 so that we wound up in White Center... Needless to say, I surrender my rights to the title of Good Navigator. Emily will probably come back and flesh this out with the details of the drive. I'm too groggy still to remember. But now Rachel's gone, and our year without her commences. Stay tuned for our journal of copiness.

Officially Abandoned and Des Moines/White Center Adventures

Today Rachel officially left us.

She is currently on a plane headed for Japan and away from her home and friends. This is an account of the related adventures.

After six days of running errands, sorting through her belongings and packing those items that made the final cut for the trip to Japan, Rachel had a goodbye dinner with me, Megan and her lovely friends from Bellingham and Tacoma. We went to a place of much happiness - a wine bar. There we drank bottles of wine, and ate delicious foods like chocolate mousse cake and fine cheeses.
Cheese like this:

and this:

and also marble blocks that turned out not to be cheese at all.

After testing the wait-staff's capabilities by having them split the price of every dish on the table in multiple different configurations, we bid everyone adieu and Megan and I went home with Rachel. I, of course, got lost. Kent/Covington has roads that fork multiple times in succession with no streetlights or indication of which road you might be taking. Also, I'm terrible with directions. But eventually we all made it back to the Spero house in one piece.

Then there was the task of getting Rachel out of the way while Megan signed the card we had for her. Rachel turns out to be easy to distract, but runs through each distraction rather too quickly.

First I sent her out to my car to grab the clothing purchases left out there (Rachel suspects nothing).

On her way back in I locked the garage door so she had to spend a minute telling me I was a jerk and to let her back in (still suspects nothing).

Then I insisted that she try on the pair of pants that she hadn't tested since they got altered, which she does happily and prances about in them for a minute or so (still nothing) - until she decides that she has to go show them off to Megan as well (who is in the other room).

At this point I gave up and just told her to let Megan finish what she was doing first - Instant Suspicion! Whatever we are up to she wants to know NOW!

Fortunately Megan was just about done writing her portion of the card and so we were soon able to placate our impatient friend, who delightedly plopped down on the floor to open her gift.
We got her this:

I also made her a card to go with her gift. It is a magical card... one that will protect her from harm.

(you can click on the images to make them bigger)

More packing ensued, with much mismatching of socks and forcible squishing of suitcases.

During this time, Rachel's sister Eliana also returned from Mexico and showed us her battle scars. Apparently clubbing is a dangerous activity in Mexico - one leading to stitches.

Finally everything was ready to go and we retired to the couch to chill and watch a movie until it was time to drive Rachel to the airport. At 4:30 we successfully left the house, with much bumping and thumping of suitcases that I'm fairly certain weighed more than most grown men. Somehow, we were also successful at getting these bags in and out of my car.

As Megan noted, we made a pit stop for last minute supplies at QFC, which is mercifully open 24/7. (All grocery stores should be open 24/7, by the way. There is no reason that a grocery store should not be open all the time, the world would be vastly improved if no grocery store ever closed.) There we picked up some refreshments - Rachel chose to purchase both water and chocolate milk. As usual, her eyes were too big for her stomach and the practical restrictions of time, considering the fact that we were nearly at the airport and she would be able to take neither of these items through security with her.

Leaving her at the departures gate was rather strange - it hasn't really set in yet that she's gone for the rest of the year, so saying goodbye was both sad and surreal.

We then drove off and proceeded to take wrong turn after wrong turn. Megan is usually quite good at giving directions, but apparently that skill isn't present at 5 in the morning when she has had no sleep. I have no navigational skills whatsoever. This is the result:

There is a part of the road leaving the airport where you can go back on I5 or 405 or you can head into Des Moines. We saw this, commented on how no one wants to spend time in Des Moines, and somehow ended up in Des Moines about a minute later. From here we figured that we should get ourselves back on the freeway to Rachel's. There was a fork where we could have done this, but following Megan's unusually poor directions I turned right onto 509 instead, heading towards Seattle. At some point, we assumed we could turn around, but passed the first exit because we weren't sure that there was also a southbound entrance there. There was. The second time we did better, getting off at White Center for a brief but exciting tour of the freeway overpass. And from then on out we actually managed to drive all the way back to Rachel's house as though we weren't navigationally retarded.

So finally, at about 6 in the morning, we got back to pick up our belongings and grab a few hours of sleep before heading home.

Now I am back and can't quite believe that I'll never drive to Covington to visit Rachel again. It is truly bizarre, and I'm not all together sure whether I am starting off this coping business with much success.

Our "letter of introduction"

Rachel is leaving in five days to teach English at a school in Japan. The program that she is working with encourages it's teachers to send a letter of introduction to the school that they will be teaching at. Since Rachel is busy packing, Emily and I wrote her letter for her. Here it is:

Dear Kusatsu School:

We are sending you our dearest friend, Rachel. We've written this letter to advise you of some things that you should know about her as she embarks on her teaching venture at your school.

Rachel is a vibrant and enthusiastic individual. She is smart and spunky and a thoroughly entertaining storyteller. She is kind and will take excellent care of your students. While her mannerisms may be occasionally quirky, she will always act with the best of intentions and work hard to ensure that all of her students excel at their studies. We're sure that her students will find her a most memorable instructor.

Rachel has many interests which she feels passionately about. Her appreciation of Asian art and pop culture have led her to many interesting pursuits, including the impersonation of several anime characters. Her diligence in recreating the costumes will be matched in her teaching endeavors. Japanese culture has influenced her studies and pursuits throughout her childhood and on into her college career.

Her recent graduation from Western Washington University means that she is equipped to give students a well-rounded education. We hope that her credentials are sufficiently supplemented by our endorsement of her personal abilities. We hope that you will care for her while she is teaching at your school, and return her to us safe and sound.

Sincerely,

Emily and Megan

P.S. We've included below a few tips for maximizing your "Rachel experience."

1. Give her sugar. Lots of sugar. She functions best when under the influence of candy.
2. Compliment her outfits. She blossoms when her good taste is noticed, and works hard to keep herself well put together and on trend.
3. Introduce her to new and exciting things
4. Rachel is ticklish on her side, behind her knees and every so often - on her feet... should you feel so inclined.
5. Encourage Rachel to tell family stories and other anecdotes. Be sure to leave several hours available to fully appreciate the minute details and general exuberance.
6. Be sure to absorb Rachel's unique inflections. They deviate from standard English, only to give it flavor.
7. A word of fair warning: Do not attempt to marry Rachel unless you are Jewish, for fear of incurring the wrath of Grandma Bobby. One night stands are encouraged. Dating is alright, I guess.
8. Develop an appreciation for Rachel's propensity to turn everyday occurrences into song.

Follow these tips, and you will enjoy Rachel every bit as much as we do. Thank you for your time.