Picture It: KelleBelle Hearts Seattle

Estelle Getty is smiling down on me as I write this here blog. This is THE Picture It of all Picture Its.

Picture it: Seattle 2008. A snowstorm paralyzes the city. Seattle doesn't get snow often (evidenced by their 2 snow plows and half a bag of salt for the entire city) and the entire population went bat ass crazy after three consecutive days of heavy snow. No one could get to work, school, church (I assume), nothing. They sure could get to the bar, but I'll get to that later. As you all know, KB is not the one to let a little of the white stuff get in her way of shopping or having a fun time. So off she goes with her favorite gal pal - let's call her "Chocolate" - to wreak havoc on the city last Sunday. After hitting a few of their favorite stores downtown, they decide to visit Beckman, a friend of Choc's, who happened to have been birthed 28 years to the day. Y'all know KB loves any reason to celebrate. But how to get to said birthday boy's abode? Both of our cars were safely parked/stranded near our homes and there was not a taxi in sight.

After walking the streets for a half an hour or so, KB and Choc hop on a bus, hopefully going in the direction of Beckman's crib. Once we were on our way I breathed a heavy sigh of relief to be out of the snow and on the way to party town. Then the bus got stuck in a heavy patch of snow. Yada yada yada, we had to de-bus, walk another half a mile, and catch another bus that left us about 20 minutes from our destination. To make a long story longer, we walked half-way, were rejected by a cabbie that said we werent going far enough to take our fare, and then hitchiked the rest. Yes, chile. (Don't tell mama Belle - she'd kill me!)

We finally make it to Beckman's spot and pop open the bubbly and coconut/lemongrass infused sake we purchased on the way. Did I mention it took us approximately 2 hours to travel about a mile? Anywho, we de-coat, de-snow, and I try to bring my feet back to life, as they had frozen on our journey. Once my pups were dry and back to life, we got the party going. Choc got all Claire Huxtable on the boys (birthday boy has a cute roomie named...Rodriguez) and started whipping up some steak nachos with two types of cheese she found in the fridge. The only problem was there wasn't two types of cheese. Just one, and a stick of butter that Choc mistook for white cheese. Cut to the boys downing those butter nachos like they were dripping with liquid gold. I'm pretty sure they cut about 10 years off of their life spans but they sure did enjoy those chips.

Some time later, in walks two of their homies: let's call them San and Petrovski. These boys know how to party and we kept it movin' to the neighborhood bar to really start celebrating Beckman's birthday. A few rounds of hot toddies, four buttered nipples, and a game of Cribbage with the skeevy 109-year-old bar owner later, and we were off to my crib so I could check my blackberry and do a quick wardrobe change.

On our way to my pad we peeped a mob of crazed Seattleites sledding down an extremely steep hill near my house that was covered in snow, like the rest of the city. These fools were using all sorts of shizz to shimmy down the hill - air mattresses, pizza boxes, garbage can lids, laundry baskets, gates, street signs. A whole heap of fuckery. Naturally, we couldn't wait to join in on the fun! So off we go to join the crowd (after of course imbibing and hanging with bob at my crib). You know how KB gets when she has too much of the good stuff - honey, I couldn't form a sentence after we left my apartment. Everything that came out of my mouth was nothing but loud, crazy giggle fits for the rest of the night. It was a problem.

Once on the hill, Choc let her inner child rove rampant and this B was flying down the hill on all sorts of makeshift sleds like she done lost her mind. Me and the rest of the crew just watched and laughed. Choc woke up on Monday with a huge bruise on her thigh from an unfortunate run-in with a wall, but she said it was worth it and I have to agree.

I'm leaving out a lot of details but my memory is fuzzy. The night ended with me leaving the hill around 3am and having to get up at 6am for work. I was tired, groggy, and completely content. What a fun, crazy, random night. I officially heart Seattle.

Smooches!

KB

P.S.: Choc saw an exact replica of the snow penis depicted above on a car near her house...or so she says.

KelleBelle's Picks

Shello.

KB here with what you're watching, listening, and drinking this weekend. You can thank me later.

Watching: Slumdog Millionaire. Just see it.

Listening: Britney! Her new album gives. me. everthing. Kill the lights bitches! Perfect for the gym. Or work. Or church. I am disappointed with my beloved Bey. That "Single Ladies" song is a bit condescending if you ask me. And save for the video, the song is...eh. If I were a boy...I'd take it to the left, to the left...and buy Britney.

Drinking: Absolut - Los Angeles special edition. I couldn't resist when I saw the alcoholic ode to my hometown whilst at the liquor store. Vodka infused with acai, acerola, pomegranate, and blueberry. What a crowd pleaser! My friend - who never drinks - couldn't resist after he got a whiff of the delicious aroma. Cut to him dancing on my living room table to Single Ladies.

Meanwhile, I'm very excited to see the Philadelphia version. I'm thinking infusions of cheese wiz, onions, and meat. Mmm hmm.

Reading: chile please. I am knee deep in contracts and FDIC testimony. I'll start reading for pleasure in 2009.

Have a fabulous weekend kids!

Smooches,

KB

Craigslist, I love thee

Picture it: I'm moving to my fierce, completely furnished new place last weekend. But what to do with the few pieces of furniture I bought while at my temporary apartment? Two words: Craig's list!

Not only did I make money, I met the best folks ever while wheelin' and dealin'!

My ad: "Stylish Futon, Coffee Table, and Dining Table - Will deliver!"

I broke even on the "Stylish Futon" and sold it to a very nice single mum. I think I aggravated an old track injury helping her move it into her 2nd story apartment, but she didn't have anyone else there to help and I figured that would count as my mitzvah for the week.

I made a cool ten buck profit on the cappucinno brown coffee table that I originally bought at Ikea for $40! Mind you, I didn't intend to make a profit, as I listed it for sale at $40. But the nice folks I sold it to - a young asian gal and husky white male (a cross between woody allen and seth rogen) - insisted on paying me an extra 10 spot for delivery! I told them it wasn't necessary, as I had the table in the back of my SUV anyway. But they insisted. And bonus - the guy is from Philly and recognized my cell phone area code. This of course led to a convo about how dope Philly is and ended with him welcoming me to Seattle and inviting me to a game of pool with him and the mrs. at the local watering hole. Awesome!

Right after that, I headed to my next delivery - to drop off a small dining room table to a young, scruffy, college-age lad. Well, it turns out he wanted the coffee table this whole time, not the dining table. I apologized and told him I must have gotten his email confused as I had a lot of offers on the tables. He said no problem and bought the dining room table anyway! (I think he just needed any flat surface to roll his j's.) I threw in a groovy mirror I bought for 10 bucks and told him his girlfriend would make use of it. He gave me $20 bucks even though I told him 10 for both was fine due to my slip-up. He insisted on the twenty and said, "Welcome to Seattle!"

As I was relaying the above tale to my gal in brooklyn, she told me she had a great Craigslist story too! She had been shopping for a treadmill for awhile and got one off of CL for $200! Bonus: the delivery man was 6'7, west indian, and fine. Double yum!

Do you have a good Craigslist story? Do tell!

5 Reasons Jake and Kelly are not going to the Inauguration

I'm home waiting for the cable guy and scantily clad in case he's as cute as the last guy.

While I wait, Jake and I are chatting away on gmail. The topic? Our plans to attend the inauguration. I'm still on the fence - the majority of our friends are going, but it is really becoming a hassle. As we normally do, we talked it out and decided to whip up a post, each listing 5 reasons why we ain't goin'. I'll let Jake go first:

Kellebelle, maybe it's true what we have been saying privately to each other all along: we are the only ones with any bloody sense. I too shant be attending any inaugerational activities in D.C. Let me count down all the reasons why for you and anyone out there who visits this thing we call a blog:

5. I hate D.C. Everyone knows that about me. I don't like the idea of a city not being a part of a state. Also, I once had a friend who was gay bashed there…in the gayborhood. Something isn't right about that place.

4. It's cold outside. January 20? Hell to the hell to the HELL NAWWW. I am supposed to trek alls the way down to DC, fight the crowds and then stand in the cold? I just had palpitations at the thought.

3. I missed the prequel: the million man march.

2. I am slightly sick of Barack Obama. Sick, sick, sick. Black or not, it's just been too much. Unless he is going to put a leotard on and dance with Michelle and Hilary by his side, I just can't do it. And, I swear he has been saying the same ish since winning the election as he did during the election. It's like chill out and keep it real. Who acts the same in an interview as they do once they have a job?

1. The revolution will be televised and in HD. Enough. Said. HD is so clear that really it's like being there. You will still be able to tell your kids I was there the day…

Jake, you are a mess. But I love you. Naturally, we have overlapping justifications (are you on your monthly too?! Samesies!) Here's my list:

5. My wallet would prefer not to be raped. A friend told me people are calling the actual inauguration passes "Golden tickets," and trying to hawk them for 5Gs. B please. The white house may soon be called the chocolate factory but it really isn't that serious.

Also, there are going to be sooo many people in DC, the thought of attempting to go to a bar, club, mcdonalds, the train, puts me off. There are going to be lines and inflated admission prices up the ying yang. And you know black folk don't know how to act. I foresee some lowbudget fights at the line and medium to high budget fights at the bar.

4. It's gonna be cold. The northwest is no southern cali, but it definitely is not as cold as the east. And I downsized my cold weather wardrobe when I made the move to the west coast from Philly so I'd have to go out and get all new uber cold weather gear. Which isn't a bad thing but there's just no time! I'm telling you I need an assistant. Maybe I can get one of the Diddy failures?

3. Too many folks. All of my friends from all different parts of my life (high school, college, law school, work, my stint in county, beauty school, etc.) are going and it will be hard to pick and choose who to spend time with and not hurt anyone's feelings. It's hard work being a diplomatic social butterfly.

2. It's all about the connects. And real talk: KB just don't got 'em or cares to use the few she has. I ain't calling nobody's assistant's cousin to get an invite to Oprah's ball. Although I bet the food is going to be ridic! I love that she just announced publicly that she could give a rip that she's tipping the scales at 2 hun. A black man is in the damn white house. If that ain't adequate reason to throw down with some greasy food and champagne on the regular, I don't know what is. Go 'head O.

1. Despite alladis, I'm still likely gonna go! Jake, I'll pick you up a t-shirt.

Meanwhile, the cable guy is here. Let's just say my crappy old sweatshirt and comfy yoga pants are back on.

Smooches!

KB and Jake

Random Thoughts: Hurry Up and Wait

In the second installment of KB's Random Thoughts, I will explore life's frustrating instances of immense anticipation and preparation, followed by a swift, disappointing let down.

Scenario 1

You're at the gym, ready to get your sweat on. You strip off your hoodie, coat, sweats, and are ready to get it in like FloJo on the treadmill that you specifically picked out for its location - bordered by the mirrored wall, of course. You place your water bottle in the water bottle holder, you re-tie your sneakers to make sure your feets are ready to fly for at least 4 miles, the ipod is set to your "work-it-out" playlist, towel is swung over the data panel so you don't have to stare at the clock while time passes ever so slowly as you trudge along for 30 minutes. You is red to go.

You press "Quick Start" on the machine. Nothing. The damn thing is broken! So now you have to pack up all your shizz and find another machine that is free and set it up all over again. Ugh!

Scenario 2

You're at the office and just saw the most hilarious youtube clip that Jake forwarded you. Upon summoning your co-workers to huddle around your desk to peep the hilarity, you are greeted by a blank web page and/or an error message. After a few minutes of awkward silence while waiting for the page to load, your co-workers slowly slink away one by one and ask you to let them know when the site is up. Boo.

Scenario 3

Your favorite tv show is mid-season and every episode is fresh and new. You tivo/dvr this week's episode and hurry home on Friday to finally watch it. Then you realize that tv guide lied to you. This ain't a "new" episode! It's a friggin clip show of what has transpired thus far this season! Boo! You'll have to wait until next week for a true "new" episode.

I have been burned by Top Model many a time. The biggest burn was part one of the series finale of Seinfeld. What a rip!

Scenario 4

You're at your favorite boutique, department store, friend's closet, etc. and have amassed an armful of frocks that you want to try on and hopefully purchase should they fit appropriately. You carefully survey the showroom floor one last time to make sure you didn't miss a garment that you want to try on.

Off you go to the dressing room, de-robe, and reach for your first garment. Dammit! Wrong size! You could have sworn you grabbed an 8, but this thing is clearly meant for a child. Or anorexic. Regardless, it ain't fittin' over your lady lumps. So you reach for the next garment and realize you totally have the wrong undergarments on - it's a slinky strapless number and you have on an over the shoulder boulder holder and granny panties. Boo!

I usually am so frustrated at this point I storm out of there and head to the nearest shoe store, where I know I am prepared to try stuff on. Although in my big footed case they rarely have my size so I am forced to window shop, buy accessories, and go home to my closest to take my pick of re-runs. Tragic.