28March2010

Yesterday, Rylee and I took Taylor and Jax to Oly for dinner. We went to Cascadia Grill, which is right downtown, for burgers. I know what you're saying already. What happened to Nutri System? Well, let's just say that yesteday, I needed a burger. And I was starving from sitting around thinking about how hungry I was all day. LOL. As we drive downtown, it strikes me. First, downtown has no skyscrapers or anything of that nature. It really just looks like a small town downtown. I like that. Then I notice them. Everyone is still lost in the land of grunge. All the clothing is neutral, and flowy, or jeans too tight, hair in dreadlocks. It was apparent that Oly is very hippy and in some cases, obviously mentally ill and homeless. I kind of like artsy, weirdness. Portland, Seattle - both artsy and weird. But at least there, it looked like everyone showered on a regular basis. I don't know that I could say that for Oly. So we circled around and found parking. There were a lot of people milling about, as it was a beautiful day. We crossed over to the burger place, and as we entered we were struck by the decor. There were old school black and white photos or people in a 3d cardboard cityscape kind of design up on top of a high plant ledge. The bar, to the left, reminded me a bit of a saloon. We waited to be sat, and the waitress probably walked by us at least twice before we had to ask where we sit or if we wait. She said she'd be back to seat us in a few minutes, not once cracking an iota of a smile. She didn't look like she smiled much in general. Great, I thought, she's one of those unfriendly professional waitress types. How can these people get by thinking they are entitled to a tip? Isn't tipping based on service? I tip because of tipping karma; but you can tell the difference between a bad day and a sour, undynamic personality. These are people better off not dealing with the public. These are people that make you feel like they are doing you a favor to bring you what you order. I hate that. Anyway, after we were seated, Taylor decided to check out the acoustics of the room by stretching her vocal cords a bit. This was much to my embarassment, and so we attempted to explain to her to use her quiet voice while Jax was sleeping, and that other people were eating and so on and so forth. Really, she just needed to be engaged and distracted. I started to point out things outside, and name colors of things. This worked when there were people walking by to watch.
I ordered a glass of Bodega Malbec (which was $6, and upon inspecting online, is only like $7 a bottle) and it was actually pretty good. Nice and bold, with some buttery creamy notes. I like wine that makes me want to chew it. Weird, I know; but I do. We had hummus and veggies and pita as an appetizer and it was delicious. I also ordered a sofrito burger, medium rare.
When it came, it was well done; which I hate - but I would rather just eat it than wait for another one. There was way too much bread, and it was too hard on the outside to get a proper bite. Because the burger was so big, all of the lovely roasted peppers and onions would slide off of the other side of the burger as I tried to bite it. The smoked cheese on top was the only saving grace. Needless to say, I would not return.
Instead of opting for dessert, as the natives (Taylor) were restless, we opted to walk around the water and downtown area and trek back to suburban civilization to get Coldstone after our walk.
(P.S. Taylor is super hungry this morning. She's eaten a veggie sausage patty, two eggs, and half of a tomato!)
Our trek proved to be equal parts interesting and terrifying from a people watching perspective. We came to an area of fountains that rose in various patterns in the concrete, which was an immediate invitation to Taylor to run around them. We did, and I tried to keep us dry. I kept her drier than I did myself, and we moved on. As we left, a man approached and proceeded to take off his hand-me-down, dirty camoflauge jacket and run into dancing streams of water. Honestly, it was nice out; but it was cold. We left quickly, hoping not to catch his attention...or odor.
As we crossed into a small park square with gazebos, I noticed two girls in one of them. They looked young, teenagers, and looked like they were reading from papers and acting out a script. An older man approached us, wearing age innappropriate clothing, asking us to buy two beanie babies he had in his hands. He gestured them towards Taylor, as if she'd make the decision for me. "They're brand new." He said. Not a chance, dude.
We decided, as dusk approached, and more and more homeless and transient looking people started to come out of the woodwork that it was time to leave.
Coldstone was a funy experience. As we entered, I noticed that Taylor had peed through her pants on both sides! Shocked, we trekked back to the car with the intention to scrap the venture in favor of pints from the grocery store and a short trip back home to clean clothes. Instead, I found that I was strangely prepared and had a spare pair of pants in the car. They even matched what she was wearing. I changed her, and Rylee changed Jax, and off we went into Coldstone. There was a line, of course; but it seemed to move quickly. Never quick enough for Miss T, she was all over the place. She found a boy a year or two older than her and proceeded to flirt with him shamelessly and talk about the ice cream in the case. Finally, we ordered. I got her strawberry with sprinkles, and a kid sized cake batter for myself. Rylee got the berry berry good that Adam usually gets. We sat outside at one of the table, and that's when my favorite moment from the whole day happened.
As Taylor would scoop her mini spoon into her ice cream, she would giggle. Every single time, she laughed. She'd get near the ice cream and this laugh would come from her. It was like she couldn't control it. It was as though she had such joy, and such a feeling of satisfaction from this ice cream. It was a deliberate, conquering laugh. As if she was telling the ice cream that she'd won and was going to eat every last bite. When she thought she was done (because she couldn't see the ice cream hiding in fear on the inside of the cup), she turned her spoon's attention to my ice cream - without asking, apologizing or any sort of inclination that it wasn't her ice cream. I rearranged her cup and she was back to her victorious giggling and scooping.
The whole thing was hilarious. And definitely worth the trip. I can't wait until Adam is home and can see her wreckless abandon with ice cream. It takes me two sittings to eat a kid's sized ice cream from Coldstone; and she'd finished hers in record time - just like her daddy.
He'd be so proud of his little ice cream warrior.