We have found a great running route through the Olympic Sculpture and Myrtle Edwards Parks. Baker loves the route. There are artsy sculptures and it travels right along the water. On clear days there is a great view of Mount Rainier. On a Monday run we started noticing signs indicating “A Special Event” would be happening in the park the following weekend. On the next run vendor tents were being assembled and I began to think that maybe it was a food event. Most of the tents were advertizing junk food; now that I think of it, munchies. The park became increasingly crowded over the next two days and the special event posters now had plant leaf logos on them. During the Thursday run Steven and I started figuring out that this special event had strong enough references to pot that despite our naïveté we were able to pick up on it. This last run on our favorite route included interesting aromas, shady characters and more tie-dye than should be allowed. As soon as we returned to our apartment the Internet research had begun. Sure enough a block from our apartment Hemp Fest would be occurring starting that weekend and lasting for a smoke infested week. Not only did this put an end to running for awhile it also increased the abnormal activity outside our cute little apartment. What we thought would be a minor inconvenience turned out to be a huge ordeal. This Hemp Fest was no small fest, it turned out to be a flocking of every stoned hippie from Southern California to northern Washington state, drug paraphernalia right outside our building and being used in the wide open. Let’s just say scales fell from my eyes. My little conservative Midwestern roots were shaking; I began to seriously question the West Coast life style.  The gorgeous mountains are in eyesight! The rain forests are a short drive away. That is what I came out here for and now I’m shutting my windows and forcing Steven to walk Baker because I’m afraid a short stint outside will alter a drug test. (Steven informs me I am being a tad over dramatic but there are some strange ones outside. Let’s just say I’d take the SeaFair clowns over this group).  Thankfully our apartment building has a parking garage so I can pull in, get on the elevator and never put a step outside. I get the daily updates about the state of things outside from Steven. The admission tickets are specifically designed to be used to roll joints and apparently they are littering the sidewalk. I am bunkering in for the week. Midwestern Values how I miss you.

Side Note- while I thought I had escaped the craziness, this is the commercial that keeps playing on TV.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AXfIteCae4w

She looks like she’s been plucked from Indiana and just bought her sweater set from Chicos. Can you imagine if THAT played in Indiana?!??!!!