Trolling

Yesterday, I went to see the Fremont Troll.

Why?

Because I can.

I’ve lived in Seattle for a decade now and I honestly couldn’t figure out why anyone would want to: it seemed to me there was nothing to do, and the people were hard to meet and when you finally did meet them, harder to connect with. A very lonely place.

So why didn’t I leave? Well, I was married, you see, and he didn’t want to leave – not Seattle, nor even the house, most days.

Until the day he left: The One Who Should Have Gotten Away.

In the weeks that followed, friends I never knew I had rushed in to fill the vacuum that had previously defined my life. My calendar was not only filled, but overflowing – I’m booking things two to three weeks out. Suddenly, I’m the one who doesn’t reply to emails very quickly because … I’m too dang busy. Who are all these people? I must get to know them.

Seattle is suddenly interesting, too. I walk up the street and where there was once a vast nothingness, there are suddenly restaurants and shops I’ve never seen before. Filled with cool things. Yummy things. Things that make me giggle. People who make me giggle – people who didn’t talk to me last week are suddenly chatting with me like we’ve been besties for years.

They direct me to other things I’ve never seen before, and introduce me to people I’ve not yet met.

Huh.

So yesterday, after being snowed in for a week, The Munchkin and I expressed our gratitude to the universe for the miracle of cleared roads, and hopped into the car to go … somewhere. We heard there was a Troll under the Fremont Bridge, and we wanted to meet it.

This proved a bit tricky – Trolls don’t have street addresses that I can enter into my GPS. Nor, apparently, do their bridges. So I set the GPS for somewhere I hopes was in the general vicinity of the Troll, and off we went.

We drove around in circles. We got lost. We tried to confuse the GPS by  impulsively took exits just to see what was there (Look! Mexican food! We love Mexican food!), and driving in the opposite direction of where it directed us (GPS lady was not amused). We got a nice view of the Seattle skyline from someplace that was nowhere near the Troll, but pretty nonetheless.

We got bored driving around, and parked the car near a bridge, which had a pedestrian underpass – so we ignored the steps and handrail and skittered down the hill, through the mud and leaves and under the bridge where we found The Troll.

He was huge and troll-like and awesome.

By the end of the day, we’d met the Troll Under the Bridge, seen The Center of the Universe, eaten sushi from a conveyor belt, and admired the Fremont Rocket. Also, we had pie.

Glorious, guilt-free pie, with extra whipped cream, please.

We even chatted with the pie guy.

We did it all. We’re going to do it all every day. Because all of a sudden, quite unexpectedly, we can.