I hate being "that person", but what do you do when you're in an uncharted city? You become a tourist and go and see all of the things you "just have to see" when you're there. You quickly find that you could have done without them, but how could you have known? The concierge said so. Your friends’ friends said so. The city guide said so. SO you walk around with a camera secured around your neck, ready to snap at any given moment, knowing full well that you look just like “that person”. A little embarrassed, but certain you’ll never see these people again anyway. You take pictures of absurd things that looking back seem to merely waste good digital space. You pay a shocking $18 for an elevator ride, though the views are spectacular. You spend more time up there than you might have because, well, you paid $18 and, of course, the sun is setting. Prime time for trying out your new Canon T21. You bob and weave your way around the other cattle and slide your lens between the metal wires that prevent some radical from throwing themselves from the top of the Space Needle to prove a point. And you take pictures. Lots of them, because everywhere you look is unfamiliar beautiful landscape. Even tall buildings (similar to those you drive past in a daze every morning) symmetrically placed and beautifully lit in the setting sun, are an artwork worth documenting. You quickly learn to use autofocus because your eyes no longer autofocus and some stranger is now the main focus of your photo and your husband is blurred in the front. You walk around the ledge, again and again, trying to take it all in before you go back down that elevator, surely never to return. Was it worth $18. I think so.

Walking through the Music Project left me feeling…like a slacker. Playing the guitar in one of their soundproof (thank goodness) studios for a whopping 10 minutes while Jeff hammered away at the drums, is the first time I’ve played in months. We rocked though, completely out of sync. We even harmonized awfully in the vocals section and I tried my rusty hand at the keyboard. I know like three chords. But anything sounds good on a steel drum! Their collection of vintage guitars was beautiful. I want them…all. But I settled for a picture of this guitar-tornado. I left feeling more touristy than ever and wanting to write a hit single.

We then took the lonely tram from Seattle City Center home to the Hyatt.  We closed the place down.  Seriously.  It was kind of eerie how quiet the streets of Seattle were at 10pm. 

And at the end of a long day of traveling, touring and taking 120 pictures; after five years and three days of the most blessed and adventurous marriage, we're more in love than ever.  Someone asked if we were on our honeymoon.  I didn't know we still looked as newlywed, sap-happy on the outside as we are on the inside.  I laughed and said, "five years baby!"