Home a la Wookie...

One of the tasks I've been meaning to tackle sooner, but I'll be honest, this city is kinda fun and I got distracted, is to document the living arrangement of a Downtown Wookie.  He's a block and a half from some serious sushi.  3 blocks to MacArthur Center (think a combo between the hoity-toity of Pioneer Square and the median environment of WA Square, but apparently it becomes Lloyd Center on Friday nights).  And a half a block to the market which carries organic items but fails to supply my Ecos laundry detergent.  Oh well, I can go elsewhere.

But without further adieu, and because wook was on Base working on paperwork, I was able to snapshot around the place and hopefully give you guys a good sense as to his digs.  If you fail to recall the layout which wook drew for me, click here.

This is his official entryway.  It's the way in which you come in from the parking garage.  Upon entering, the stairs up the loft are on your right, as well as the bathroom within the door on your right.  Notice the dogbutt coat hooks from IKEA?

A shot inside the bathroom...and it's lolely shower stall.  But don't worry, I still sit down in the shower (where I got that from, I haven't a clue).  Out of the picture is the sink area.  Sink, shmink.  Water vessel and a mirror with cupboards underneath.  Just close your eyes and imagine.

Looking down the stairwell from the loft.  Ya, I've missed that angled step a couple times.  But I've maintained a full set of teeth.  I did almost cough up a lung today as the water decided to divert down the wrong pipe.  Good thing wook was right next to me to help...too bad he was laughing at me.

Crazy mask acting as the guardian of the place.  There's a little table underneath him where I store my purse when I want it out of the way.  And we keep our stack of running shoes there.  Trying to be all athletic.  Riiiight.

Literally what you see at the top of the landing.  My mom doesn't believe that wook doesn't have walls for an actual bedroom.  It's nice because I can poke my head over at wook and ask what he wants for breakfast as opposed to yelling downstairs like a pair of Walmart-shopping, wife-beater-wearing, gold-toothed crazies.

Dresser.  Laundry closet.  Try learning how to use a front-loading washer for the first time.  It was like reading Chinese.  I was so confused.  But obviously it's the future of washers, so I need to get on the gravy train sometime.  But gosh.  I've never felt more like an idiot than have a guy explain laundry to me.

The kitchen which is directly below the bedroom.  Yes, that wook's wine collection on his fridge (mainly West Coast finds whether acquired in Napa or the Rogue Vally) and his bar on the left of the counter.  What's your poison?  No, really, we can make anything.

The view into the living room.  Yes, that large gap of wall is where the projector hits.  We're not crazy and looking as some sort of modern art.  "I call it...'Sterility'."  Look!  There's my little chair in the corner.  Next to all the good books. :)

A really dark shot of wook gaming it up.  I think it was Rome then.  But I get soo tired of hearing, "I've got the rockets!"  (Collin knows what I'm talking about).  Thankfully he switched to Rainbow (some Tom Clancy first-person shooter), so I get to hear people die.  No, I'm not twisted.

Yay, my chair!  So cute.  With a stolen newspaper on my armrest, and my Beaver scarf on the back.  It's so homey there.  The only bad thing is that it's very easy to slip into a nap while your feet are up.  I've done it.  Wook's been caught too.  

I was lazy in my chair with my feet up and thought you'd like to see what I see from my relaxed position.  This is usually where I'm at when wook makes dinner (we have an agreement, I make lunch, he makes dinner).  Thank you Joe Cady for the couch on loan.

And my shot of wook gaming it up.  He leans to the left so I can watch.  I'm a psuedo-nerd.  I don't have the hand-eye coordination required for these things.  Therefore I tell him to play games for me.  Especially FEAR 2.  The most I play are the games on MSN.  And Solitaire.

For the times I'm feeling extra lurker-ish.  A view out my window.  Yes, the dense Cambodian brush creates the perfect barrier between walkers and my warm self.  I swear, I've never felt such intensely cold wind.  Okay, maybe that one time up on the Gorge in January of 2008 (Kerb, when we went into Fred Meyer!).  It's like your bones are chattering.  I need to drink myself a sweater and a scarf before I venture out!