Victoria to Seattle

So I did go to the show at Sugar Nightclub in Victoria, and hearing the bands with enthusiastic Canadians happy to support their fellow countrymen was the right decision. Very appreciative audience, very appreciative performers. But I was far too warm, and ended up finding a seat in the back of the club to prevent myself from passing out. So I got to hear the bands fine, but never really saw them. So they will still be a surprise when I see them again.

And while hanging out in the back, on the aisle that led to the bathrooms, so eventually everyone passed by me during the night, the first band, the band I did manage to see before my eardrums felt like bleeding and I grew too hot to stand, Black Diamond Bay, mainly stood near my seat, hanging out at the merchandise outlet and the little secondary bar my seat was between. What can I say? They all had noticeable hair. They were an amiable bunch, and seemed genuinely surprised when someone would come up and thank them for their performance.

Jets Overhead and The Dears both performed admireably, and even when I thought everyone was talking over the music, the bands would ask for applause and it was always immediate, so obviously everyone was paying attention. Jets Overhead, from Victoria, obviously had the larger, more passionate fans. The crowds thinned out a bit after they were done. The Dears and Black Diamond Bay both are from Montreal, according to myspace.

My goal for the evening to be noticed succeeded. At one point during The Dears’ performance (last band playing) a man stood long enough beside my cubby for me to notice and me to look up. He was just staring at me and smiling. And swaying. I said hello, he replied, smiling some more and I looked back down. The question of whether he was actually looking at me, or confusing me for someone he was looking for, I have no idea. He wandered off.

On the walk home, now sufficiently dressed for the chill and wind of a city on a body of water, another man walking past said I was beautiful, and smiled to show his missing teeth. I was near where the crackheads now live. Sexy, he said, walking by.

Mission accomplished. Okay, proof yet again when I make statements to the universe of what I want, I need to be exceedingly specific. “I want someone to notice and be attracted to me,” needed to be someone relatively sober, and someone actually attractive to me. (Not that either man was particularly unattractive.) But I didn’t say that, now did I? So home alone. My host I am sure will be much relieved upon reading this.

The next morning, late start, meandering to the harbor, and yes I did make it on board. I figured from the first ferry ride as a pedestrian, that it probably did not make any difference if I actually took the ferry at the time of my reservation, since most of the passengers were actually in cars, something they would definitely want to keep an accurate count of.

We sailed (chugged?) into a bank of fog. Or low lying clouds? All these technical nautical terms. You could see it shimmering as a line between water and mountains, sitting on the water. And sure enough, there it was. Suddenly we were in it, and you couldn’t even see from one end of the ship to the other.

Heading into the Cloud Bank

Heading into the Cloud Bank

And then we landed at Port Angeles, and I got back to my car which had not been ticketed because Port Angeles police just doesn’t care until after 14 days of a car sitting in the same unmetered spot, (I knew, their website mentioned it prominently) and it was back in the car, driving on the 101 to the 5, passing Olympia and Tacoma to get to Seattle to stay with yet some more friends. Phew!

Tacoma Dome in passing

Tacoma Dome in passing

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