A Note From the Kentucky Coast

A few years ago, Todd and I took what turned out to be one of my all-time favorite vacations, to Seattle, the San Juan Islands, and Mt. Rainier (Todd doesn't go to vacations with just ONE destination. Does this really surprise you?).

For some reason, ever since I was about high school or maybe college-age, I had just KNOWN, deep in my heart, that Seattle was a very cool place to be. Turns out, I was totally right, and I still say that if I ever win the lottery or otherwise become suddenly wealthy, I am moving there, STAT.

But -- this post is not about the many cool things about Seattle, it is about one very uncool thing that we encountered there.

We stayed in a cool (of course) hotel in the University District, which had a breakfast buffet every morning in the room that turned into a jazz club at night (cool, huh?). One morning, I was sitting there, eating my hard-boiled egg, and waiting for Todd, who was doing something obscene, like jogging, or something. I'm sure I was reading a book, and was in no way looking to make friends with anyone.

Unfortunately for me, I chose a table next to some woman from Idaho who was in town visiting her son at the University of Washington. She was, apparently, looking to make friends, and chose me.

"So . . . where are you from?

"Kentucky," I replied, in what I hoped was my not-quite-unfriendly-but-definitely-not-friendly voice.

"Oh." (reflective pause) "Do you have JOBS?"

Seriously. Do we have jobs? Like, where we wear shoes?

The conversation did not improve from there, and in fact deteriorated to the point at which Idaho lady very earnestly inquired as to whether we expected to suffer damage from the hurricane which was, at that time, pounding the East coast. You know the East coast, right? The one that ISN'T ANYWHERE NEAR KENTUCKY? (Actually, through the whole trip, we encountered similar people who, upon hearing we were from Kentucky, would say things like, "OH! I have a friend in Atlanta, do you know her?")

I'm sure by now, if you're even still reading, you're wondering what the hell this has to do with anything at all. Well, believe it or not, it is TOTALLY relevant, because last week, Hurricane Ike completely lost it's little hurricane mind, and blew all the way up to KENTUCKY, into Louisville, and through my little street, and knocked my power out FOR A WHOLE WEEK. That's seven days, folks, and I had to count them all without the benefit of lights, air conditioning, or a COMPUTER.

So, Idaho lady, I humbly apologize for making fun of you and your silly hurricane question for three solid years. That was TOTALLY my bad.