Burial Grounds.

Down the street from us some genius stuck a 4500 square foot home on a 4000 square foot lot. I'm not sure what kind of people would pay $1.36 million for a house with a yard the size of a VW bus, but I hope they're not afraid of ghosts. The poltergeist of the little old bungalow that sat on that space for the past 100 years might just haunt their champagne dreams.

Squeaky Wheels.

Last week I discovered that FlexCar had removed their ONLY vehicle parked within the dense swath bordered by Brooklyn Avenue, Stone Way, Lake Union and Green Lake. Tens of thousands of residents and zero FlexCars.

I complained to the company and threatened to cancel my membership if they didn't better serve my neighborhood. Either they succumbed to my threats or it is a terrific coincidence that there are now TWO FlexCars parked in the gravel parking lot behind Dick's on 45th. I don't really care how they came about, I'm just happy to have access to a Honda hybrid for trips to PCC and a Subaru sedan for a night at the opera.

Sweet Relief.

Yesterday I went on a fairly long bike ride and burned more calories than a large plate of spaghetti could replenish. At 7pm I craved something sweet. Unfortunately The Essential Bakery, Just Desserts and Wallingford Bakery all close at 6pm or earlier on Sundays. Even The Erotic Bakery was closed (though I'm not sure I was hungry enough to eat a slice of penis cake). I was so desperate I almost went to Winchell's.

Instead I called Boulangerie. I swear this place never closes. The owner said he'd be there "at least until 9." I walked up the streeet and purchased a delicious Honey and Walnut Tart. I must have looked satisfied because the guy with the drum (who is always hanging out front) said to me: "It looks like you got styled!" Indeed.