Yesterday, there was a "BBQ" at Seattle Center for KEXP. I met some friends there and heard Japandroids, Cymbals Eat Guitars, Viva Voce, and about three songs worth of Dinosaur Jr. Some were better than others. I went home for a brief break and watched some more old Mad Men episodes while building up some resolve to head back out, mainly to the Crocodile but also to Bathtub Gin, which is ideally charming and slightly hidden. The thing at the Crocodile was Emerald City Soul Club. Everyone has been raving about it forever, for good reason. I am not really a person who goes dancing (obvious for the number of casualties inflicted as the night progressed on the slippery talcum powdered floor) or whatever, but it was certainly exhaustingly fun times.
Earlier, a friend defended her dissertation, resulting in late-afternoon sparkling wine and mid-evening wine on the small deck at the Capitol Club. The prior weeks had things like judging a kickball game, inventing toasts at the Buckeroo, Throw Me the Statue at Seattle Center, the patio at Presse, a muppet party followed by a house party with pizzas being cooked in the insanely hot kitchen, cycles of hushing, loud chatter, and indoor--outdoor migrations based on the presence of police cruisers, and last minute hops to the grocery to clean out the cheep beer multipack refrigerated sections. There was also massive heatwave followed by a premature nostalgia-inducing cold spell and probably other things, since forgotten but somehow documented on other internets.