I’m about to finally drop a bunch of posts that have been waiting for a few months now: the road trip to Washington, the Ferry ride, the recycling center, all leading up to the big one:
(not actually house hunters, but an update on my quest for a house)!
In Denver, I tossed all of my recyclables in Trader Joe’s paper bags, put them outside my apartment door, and each night they were magically whisked away to recycling land. In Juneau, recycling is an event.
No app. No kiosks. No reserved seating. No problem. I finally ventured out to the movies for the first time.
Apart from seeing more people in one place than I have seen the whole time I’ve been in Juneau, I have to say one other thing about going to the movies in Juneau stood out:
The seating shuffle.
In Denver, all theaters have reserved seating you book ahead of time. Occasionally one will arrive at their reserved seat to find an occupant, and muster up the courage to kick them out of the seat. In the worst case, the errant occupant has not made a simple error, but has chosen to ignore the system altogether and doesn’t understand what the big deal is. Is it a big deal? Well not really, but just sit in your assigned seat (which you picked out) so we don’t have to do this.
In Juneau, there are no reserved seats, and the seats are not arranged “stadium style”. There are also not that many seats (maybe 8 x 8 seats?). You know, like all movie theaters used to be.
I was curious to observe seating etiquette.
Not only was there no scuffle over reserved seats, but there was a team effort to help give everyone a clear view of the screen. As people chose seats and settled in, one woman lead the effort to stagger people so that no one’s view of the screen was blocked. I did my part and adjusted to fit the new pattern, moving over a seat when the people behind me moved behind my seat.
I can’t conclusively call this a “Juneau thing” yet. It warrants further study.
Since I’m behind on writing I should tell you I’m currently in Juneau, living in a long-term hotel for the next 2 months. The accommodations are severely lacking, and as I settle into my routine the simple things are just not going smoothly. Luckily it’s pretty funny. For example I cannot seem to make myself a cup of coffee in the morning.
I bought a one cup Keurig to use in my hotel room, and then take into my office once I move into a more permanent situation. This particular machine works by pouring up to 12 oz. of water into the reservoir each time you want to make a cup of coffee. It has a total of 3 buttons: power, STRONG, and big circle button with flashing light. What could go wrong?
Turns out my travel mug is too tall for the machine. So, I bought my morning coffee at a drive thru, and went shopping for one cute whimsical ceramic mug, and an insulated travel mug that sports a local coffee shop name and fit under the spout. Now I’m ready.
After procuring appropriate vessels, I ran a few reservoirs full of water through the machine for cleaning purposes, as instructed. The next morning I filled the 12 oz. reservoir, inserted the pod, pushed the button and got in the shower. I exited the shower, the air thick with the warm aroma of coffee, and noticed that my 16 oz. mug had overflowed and coffee poured onto the counter, down the cabinets, and formed a puddle on the floor.
I don’t want to bring physical laws into this but it seems volumetrically impossible. Perhaps I’ve discovered the secret to our drought problem in my magical coffee maker. I can create water, one brew cycle at a time.
Ok, this morning I think I’ve got it figured out, but I forgot my travel mug at the office. So, I put the new giant ceramic mug under the thing, put the pod in, close the lid, and let it work its magic. Ta-dah! An appropriate amount of brown, coffee flavored liquid is deposited in my cup.
I go about my morning business, and notice the mug has left a ring on the counter. I wipe it up. I take another sip. Ring. Wipe it up. I notice there is coffee on the sides of the mug. I wipe it up. Then I see the hairline crack along the base of the coffee mug, through which my first successful cup of coffee is leaking onto the countertop.
So I caved and bought frou frou coffee at the drive thru on the way to work, daunted yet again in my quest for one cup of home-brewed coffee.
Keep me in your prayers tomorrow morning at coffee time when I attempt for the fourth time to make myself a cup of coffee without incident.
ROAD TRIP 