let it snow, let it snow, let it snow

Seattle shuts down during snowstorms, but I cannot bear being inside for hours and hours and hours.

So I walk downtown from my house, meandering down on Union, then Seneca. I tell people waiting at bus stops that the #2 bus is not coming, that parts of Union have been cordoned off. People are so hopeful in Seattle, I hate being the bearer of bad news. I haven't been in a department store in months, but I find myself wandering around Macy's. I test out some Black Pearl eyeshadow. I try on about 13 coats and drool over the Michael Kors dresses that I certainly don't need. I have some soup and sit in the window, reading the first essay in Best American Travel Writing 08. This is a book I want to savor, so I am reading each essay one at a time, like eating a good chocolate once a week. I'm hoping to drag it all out til February at least. I pass the line for Santa, which is stretched out for a block. But people are patient and happy in the cold, smiling and greeting folks who pass by.

The bus does not appear to be running, so I brace myself for the walk back up the hill and do so. It only takes me a bit longer to get home than it did to go down.