Goooooooooals.

OK, I'll be out of town for a bit so I hereby bring you the ceremonial summary of 4Q09 goals.

• three Fugitives & Refugees things/month... well, turns out that when you write a book that becomes famous, tourists overrun the weird stuff and the owners close up shop or deny the public access to their weird stuff. But Portland is weird with or without famous author assistance, which basically means that I saw a lot of weird stuff over the past three months but there wasn't a lot from the book involved. So... 3x3=9, right?

look at how PC our graffiti artists are! I mean, it really warms the heart!

there seems to be a trend of turning free newspaper
stands into bizarre, colorful works of art

this was the extent of the "dear will" letter

they let us eat here

I think this has to do with kidical mass
~ Critical Mass for kids

the kitschiest shop - well, the only kitschy shop -
in the Pearl... I have spent hours in this store

someone decided that Die Hard needed to become an art project
and actually rented space for this tribute to John McClane

erm... nothing at all weird about Captain Bogg and Salty!
best kiddie pirate band in the western hemisphere!

Santa Douche at Anticon

• run 13 miles by 12/31... well, turns out that when you get the flu the weekend before your grand finale, you don't run 13 miles by 12/31. But I got to 12, which means I can get to 13, which I will do as soon as the flu and sinus infection symptoms decide to make their merry way elsewhere and I can get back to training. New 1Q10 goal is "by 2/17" and if it doesn't happen by then, it ain't happening... and it's all good.
  
• figure out "the plan"... well, turns out when you reduce your schedule to 3 days a week you can get a lot more done. Why did no one mention this before? I have everything from actual plans to thoughtful ideas to vague notions, all of which will culminate into a really great 3.5 months overseas. And I have a lot of shit to do by 2/17. New 1Q10 goal is "by 2/17... get all this shit done."
  

Next up, the year we don't know how to refer to ("oh-ten?" "ten?" "one-zero?"). Also known as, the most amazing year I have yet to witness. No goals till June at the earliest! I'm off to do some L-I-V-I-N.

Happy new year!

A look inside my flu-recovering multi-everything-ing brain.

Must look up storage... Cool, hockey is on!... I want pizza... Really need to figure out how to get from Buenos Aires to Quito... Wow, Red Wings haven't scored... $800 for a flight - are you kidding me?!?!... Hmm, $1 for the first month and a discount on 3 months or more? Sold... Oh, that looks like a good pizza dough recipe... Best season to visit = Jan-May, man how could I NOT go to the Galapagos?... Dammit, forgot to return those library books I never read... "Hi, other travel clinic, can you send my itemized list from February so that I can submit a claim? Ktxsbai!"... Ooooh jump drive chock full o'music from Mark - must download and absorb immediately! Well, download now, absorb soon... Wow, still no score, really?... {Sidestep to write thank you's for Christmas presents.}... Maybe Antarctica travel lady can help with flights to Quito... Still don't know Spanish, hope that surfing/Spanish immersion program is all it's cracked up to be... Caps v Flyers on 1/17 - I am SO there... I can fit all this crap into a 10'x10' box, right?... You're the RED WINGS, just score already! Jeez... Hmm, where the hell is my passport?... Add to "to do ASAP in 2010" list - pay taxes, cancel cable, send intent to vacate letter to landlord... Overtime, wow... Next apartment will be on floor 2 or higher, have decent heat and full bath... COLUMBUS WINS IN OT!... When did Ohio get a hockey team?

The end.

Early Wednesday three.

I'm a mile away from 4Q goal #2 as of this evening, so I thought I would take this opportunity to explain why I brought this upon myself again this year. Last year it seemed like a good idea until Her Majesty got sick, and the country and candidates leading up to the election got all hateful, and I realized that I would never like my job at the time (which is my job still, but which is soon to be not my job anymore). I got to 8 miles and pretty much threw in the towel.

This year I gave it another try because I'm in a much better state of mind. And I think it might actually work, because:

• I haven't done much long-distance hiking since August, so I should probably make sure my legs and knees can handle lots of strain since I'm not sure where or for how long I will be walking as of March 14.
  
• I'm back in "jeez my clothes are huge I really need to gain some weight" mode (for reasons unbeknown to me but for which I've confirmed there is no medical rationale), and keeping up the running for a bit longer will ensure that when I gain 15 pounds on the 3-week cruise, my slightly-larger-than-needed travel clothes will fit perfectly rather than hanging off me like they do now.
• Spaghetti, sushi, peanut butter and bagels. And? As if that weren't enough, OMG there is nothing better than finishing 12 miles at 9:30pm and replenishing your sodium levels with a TJ's cornmeal crust Greek pizza at 11:22pm, totally guilt-free. I mean, really. NOTHING.
  

Heading south for the winter.

Last weekend I headed out to see what Klamath Falls, Crater Lake and some other nearby old towns were all about. Turns out, not much.

Crater Lake is pretty, for sure:


And they have a nice gift shop, and they keep the road plowed to the rim in the winter, and the post office at the visitor center closes at 2pm. That's about all I can say about Crater Lake. Other than, I hear it's lovely in the summer.

Earlier that weekend I headed a bit farther south on my way to Lava Beds National Monument and ran across this sign:

... and I got a little nostalgic. I then bought a couple of postcards and got charged sales tax, and the nostalgia went away. (I suppose if I'd pumped my own gas I could've brought it back?)

I did have a lot of fun in the caves though. There are about two dozen that they just let you wander through with a flashlight. The other caves I've visited (Sacramento, South Dakota, Colorado) required guided tours, but for this one I showed up, alone, around noon, and asked the gal at the front desk what she recommended, and she sent me off with two flashlights ("just in case") and a map with some stuff circled. Because it's winter there, the park was empty... and as a result the whole experience was pretty amazing.

Most of the caves are upright-walkable. Some you have to crouch in places, and a few require crawling. I didn't do the crawling ones out of respect for my knees (and my closet claustrophobia), but I definitely got deep underground in a few.

(Golden Dome)

In one of the earlier caves I was about 200 feet in, and I turned off the flashlight and stood in the dark listening to the silence. The wind was loud and gusting outside, and as a result the temperature was close to 25 degrees and close enough to freezing to my non-acclimated body. Inside the cave it was a balmy 55, slightly humid and... absolutely silent.

It was amazing.

And then I was reminded of recent mountain lion attacks in the area and I freaked out a little. "Surely they wouldn't just let people wander around solo if mountain lions were in the area. Surely. Right? I mean, this is a national effing monument after all, they can't afford bad publicity." And all was right again.

And then 25 years of pop culture kicked in. I saw a flash of the Indiana Jones scene where the water comes gushing through the tunnel, and I freaked out a little more and turned the flashlight back on. And then I saw flashes from The Lost Boys and I jerked the flashlight up to make sure no vamps or bats were lounging over my head. And then I remembered the cave scenes from The Goonies, which I'd watched on fuzzy cable the night before at the cheap motel, which is soooo not a scary movie but some of those scenes!... And then another two dozen scenes from Buffy ran through my head, and then...

And then I laughed at myself, appreciated the adrenaline rush, and moved on to the next cave. And? That night on fuzzy cable? The Lost Boys! I have seen it half a million times and could recite the lines in my sleep, but there was something serendipitous about the timing which resulted in my eyes being glued to the set the whole time despite having the next day to plan and Christmas cards to glue and emails to write. (Thank you, Joel Schumacher and the Coreys. Sparkling vamps my ass.)

These weekend trips have been experiments. I'm testing my tolerance after this recent revelation... So Eastern Oregon I planned pretty well. Southern Oregon, I knew where I was staying (and generally speaking, what was in the area), and I took some guide books, and that was the extent of the plan. Crater Lake was planned. The Lava Bed caves were not, I ran across them in the book the night before and they ended up being my favorite part of the trip.

The whole reason for the Southern Oregon adventure had to do with something I read in a guide book about 500 bald eagles nesting there in the winter. I'm not a big bird fan... Well, I'm a Big Bird fan but I'm generally not into birds. The bird refuges just across the border in CA did not excite me but they did interest me and I approached them as an opportunity to relax and to test my camera's sports/action mode. I ended up marveling at dozens of species of those amazing creatures - watching raptors float mid-air on their way to doing nothing, being guided through the auto tour by the same gorgeoous golden eagle, reminding myself to just sit back and observe and not worry about the perfect picture. That day I encountered three of the nine bald eagles recently seen in the area. Two are here:

Grungy and scrappy and scavengery and therefore worthy of being our nation's emblem? Sure. Creepily watching me as I ate my sandwich while taking tons of photos of them? Definitely.

So overall, I think the plan is working well. In a few weeks I'm heading down the 101 to Coastal Oregon. Other than having a few places of interest I'd like to check out, I'm going to wing it. And it's going to be amazing. This is the start of a whole new perspective, and I'm loving every minute of it. (I know, I know - I don't know who she is or what she did with Jen(n) - but I'm also not complaining...)

Friday five.

It's that time, well it was that time yesterday, so today's Friday five is about things I am particularly thankful for right now:

• my family, whose health has had many ups and downs over the years but who have been holding steady at "relatively healthy" lately
  
• my car, which doesn't complain too much about going 1000 miles in 4 days twice in a month when it's usual average is 10 miles/week
  
• my knees, which allowed me to run 9 miles Wednesday night also without much complaint (4 to go!)
• my town, which has been very good to me over the last year and a half
• my friends, who are mostly older and always wiser, who put up with me, make me laugh out loud (a lot), and challenge me to be a better person inside and out

And here's the cheese... it's not even good stinky runny cheese, it's the kind that's shaped into a ball and rolled in almonds that's on sale around the holidays, but it kind of spoke to me last weekend:


Like the spirit of Christmas, keep yesterday with you all through the year. Gratitude is a very powerful (and empowering) thing. Happy holidays!

My very own IMMD.

I've been following this site pretty religiously lately, as a way to find humor in life's little whatevers and whathaveyous. Most of them induce a smile or an "awwww!" and make me want to ignore reality in favor of those brief seconds where it all makes sense.

Today I had the opportunity to play the Buffy video game. I should note that I haven't played a video game (other than Super Mario Brothers for about 5 minutes recently and Zaxxon using my keyboard's arrow keys several years ago) in approximately 20 years, and I'd certainly never played with such a complicated controller. Once I got the hang of it, though, it was a lot of fun. The cast commentary was about half-authentic and certainly less than stellar (Willow is not dumb goddammit! and where the hell is Giles?) but after a while I was staking vamps like nobody's business.

And then my friend and I checked out the multi-player options, and there was one where we eventually realized we could just beat the crap out of each other (as Spike vs Buffy)... and while I abhor violence on general principal and would never wish physical harm on this person... it totally MMD.

"So look, I don't hate children. I don't know how that rumor started."

I stole that from a David Cross bit, where he goes on to describe his friends who've had children and how their most interesting stories revolve around their children staring at grapes.

I actually love the offspring of my friends. They are adorable and charming, and they do far more interesting things than stare at grapes. Like make pirate faces on command, or sit contently in my arms for many minutes at a time, or finally giggle at me after many encounters of shyness over almost two years.

The children I do not enjoy are the ones who throw temper tantrums at airports.

Grocery stores and toy stores I totally get and support, at least to some degree. But airports? Really? I get airplanes - the ear pressure and turbulence and bumpy landings and scary mean flight attendants and no food and all - and I have no beefs whatsoever about kids screaming their lungs out on airplanes - but airports?

I had one of those last night out of Oakland. Someone's 3(ish)-year-old ran around the terminal for 20 minutes pre-boarding screaming "BUT I DON'T WANT TO GET ON THE AIRPLANE!!!!!!!!!!" at the top of her lungs. Yeah, we don't want you to either, kid, I kept thinking. The older gentleman in line next to me saw my scrunched up face and said, "oh, but they're not always like that," to which I instinctively replied, "maybe so, but I still don't want any," to which he replied, "oh, but it's so rewarding, I have 4 grandchildren, wouldn't trade them for the world, [blah blah blah]," at which point I felt bad for being a grouch...

And then 30 seconds later I heard a couple my age a few feet ahead of me (who could not have possibly heard my conversation with Grandpa over the 3-yr-old tantrum) say "wow I am so glad we agreed not to have kids." And then I didn't feel so bad.

However! A brand-new online community that I am happy to promote has made me see the light. Temper tantrum advice here. Some of this is funny, some is sarcastic, some is spot on. And there is much more life enriching advice throughout the site. Including consumer electric advice! Now how much would you pay?

I've been a Dooce fan ever since I learned you could get fired from writing about your job on the Internet (she did - I aspire not to, though I'm sure I'm capable of doing so if my intentions were good). Her daily creativity, whether it be humor or photography or design or people-interactions, inspires me. She and her husband approach parenthood, and life, and married life with the same gusto-coupled-with-world-weariness that I expect I would in that situation. (And she mocks Mormonism. I mean, come on. You've gotta love her just for that.)

So, please click away and enjoy, and rack up the ads for her... Because I haven't bought any of her books yet and I feel a little guilty about that. Dooce and I thank you in advance.

Progress.

I had a long talk with someone today about these quarterly goals and whether they are helpful or harmful. In the end I decided they were helpful, except for last year around this time when I had the exact same running goal and ended up not meeting it due to a dying cat and hating work and general world-weariness that did not put me in a good space to be running 13 miles, yet I got as far as 8 at one time, yet I beat myself up about not making that goal. This year, though? ALL OVER IT. Six miles down as of Monday, seven additional to go. In eight weeks. Eh, whatever, it's been done... and if it's not done again, this year I'm simply not going to care. (But it will be done. Mark my words.)

In other goal-related news... October's Fugitives & Refugees attempt was a bit of a bust. The Wilhelm's Portland Memorial, which would've been a great Octoberish activity, is now closed to the public except during specific, sporadic tour hours. (This is most likely due to the book. Thank you, Chuck.) Mount Gleall Castle, Portland's equivalent of the Winchester Mystery House and also good around Halloween time, isn't accessible to the public, it turns out. And I'd really intended to go to Powell's rare book room, where the ghost of the founder allegedly hangs out on Tuesday evenings, but there was yoga to be done. Much more important for my psyche this quarter.

But! The Sauvie Island corn maize was taken a step further - I went to the haunted version and it was ridiculously awesome. (Next year I am working there. How fun would it be to walk 4" behind people dressed as a zombie? Hell, I'd volunteer my time for that.) And I went to the Roloff farm, not featured in Chuck's book for many reasons, the main one being that it wasn't around when he wrote it. But this?

Spooooooky!

Besides. Not that I'm competitive or hold myself to stupidly high standards or anything (ahem) but I've done plenty in the book already. Wild Abandon, Fuller's? Check. (Yum and meh, respectively.) Hippo Hardware? I love their hippos. The underground tour? Yup. The "getting off" chapter? Ummmmmm... no thank you. When the vegan strip club closed before I even moved here, the sordid life left nothing of interest to me.

Anyway, never fear. October may have been only moderately successful, but there is plenty of F&R in store for November and December. I may not even have to plan November's, if all goes well. Have I mentioned lately that I love this town?

And as far as The Plan, well, it's coming along. More to figure out this weekend, and more conversational Spanish to learn. Stay tuned.

Thought o' the day.

There are worse things than bonding with your older male boss over the virtues of the Twilight series.

 

(There, are... right?)

Get over it.

If I can't tolerate maintenance guys outside my window every morning disrupting my morning routine for the third week straight with at least two more weeks to go (no, property management people, I am not a day sleeper no I am not home all day LOOK YOU ARE MISSING THE POINT they cause me to shut my windows and they make a lot of noise during my dark, quiet time and I don't like that!), how the heck am I going to tolerate not knowing where I'll be tomorrow or the next day or the next week? 

 

Time to stop whining, accept a little mold-breaking and spontaneously deal with the situation at hand. 

 

Any thoughts on how to make that easier?  This creature of habit is a little concerned.

A haiku for my new toy.

no spots when I zoom

vibrant hues, options a'plenty

{hearting} this camera

Eco-lazy.

It's become a personal challenge at this point. How high can I pile it before I need to take the 20 foot walk to the recycling bin outside?

Ahhhh, single living.

I am sure living in SPAIN had nothing to do with it...

... but still, a good reason to whip up some hummous or splurge on that feta cheese for the salad, especially as winter and the darkness starts to set in.

Rockumentaries.

First was The Devil and Daniel Johnston. This was recommended to me, though I can't remember by whom, and going into it I had no idea who he was. It was ironing day so it didn't really matter. Anyway, early on they identified Johnston as the guy who made the "Hi How Are You" tape, which was made into a t-shirt, which Kurt Cobain wore every waking second after that, apparently.

Johnston follows the path of Brian Wilson, writing a lot of really good music and making great art before declining into mental illness. Along the way he also finds religion and preaches to audiences about the devil in between songs about desire. Ironic or poetic, I'm not really sure. The people around him watch his decline and finally get him somewhat back on track, and that's good, because he really is talented. It seems that I just missed his Portland show in September but I'll keep an eye out for him in the future. You should too.

And in keeping with the religious, musical and "Daniel" themes I watched Danielson: A Family Movie. It was interesting, but there were only two things that stuck with me. One, their music was like no other "Christian rock" I've heard. Considering that along with their general attitudes and respect for each other and actually seeming to lead a "Christian" life, I ended up unexpectedly liking it, and them, a lot. Two, at the time of the documentary Daniel Smith was mentoring a then-unknown Sufjan Stevens. The mentee has surpassed the mentor in this case, but the mentor shows no resentment. Refreshing.

There, I just saved you three hours. Next time you can do my ironing, mmmmkay?

I must know.

Never mind that other question I want to ask Colin Meloy the next time he signs my poster. Now I just want to know if "that wretched girl Dawn" is an homage to Joss, in some way.

Inspired.

I watched Autism: the Musical last night. A big part of it was about the kids, and their stories, and their day-to-day life and interactions with each other in rehearsals for the musical. They each had different severities of the disease, and struggled with different things every day, but they all had ways of communicating their needs and fears and hopes. But the other side of the story was about the parents and how they coped with having children who weren't treated as equals to "normal" children (their air quotes, not mine).

It was heartbreaking and heartening all at the same time, and I laughed and cried (sometimes both at once) through the whole almost-two hours. Highly recommended.

October is here already? I suspect a conspiracy.

OK, so a wrap-up on last quarter's goals:

• At least 2 road trips - check, check.
  
• New restaurant every week - I'm pretty sure I was successful in this endeavor. My favorite new find is Sweet Basil, just a few blocks from my apartment, where they serve the best crab ranggoon appetizer and the vegetarian pad thai is so earthy and hearty. And? Happy hour drinks all day Sunday, how can you beat that?
  
• 5 new Portland bands - check, check, check, check, check. Favorite new PDX finds: Blind Pilot and Morning Teleportation. Lots of great stuff out of the overall PNW at the music fest though.
  
• Anything on The List - #10, check. (I knew it was on the list somewhere.)

And so, the goals for the next few months:

• Three things/month from Fugitives and Refugees.
• Run 13 miles by December 31. Yesterday I ran for the first time in months and it felt great (although it was a bit painful). If I increase a mile a week, 13 miles in as many weeks will be gravy.
• Figure out "the plan." Um, yeah. More to come on that.
• Anything on The List... although I'm two years ahead already, soon to be three. Perhaps I should enjoy the moment and slow down?
  

Will probably need more than nature to get over this one.

I did something really stupid recently, so to temporarily take my mind off that move I decided to seek solace in nature. (But just some quick solace - I had other shit to do today.)

I ran across some information about Carver Park. Close by, and where some of Twilight was filmed. The movie was wretched but the scenery did exemplify Oregon, so I decided to check it out.

Not much to it. Also, empty. I sat by this stream for about an hour and didn't see a soul:

Walking out I was still kicking myself, but despite that I was able to appreciate the beauty of lush, green Oregon.

I could live there. Right there. It's hard to do stupid things to trees.

HA-ha!

(Was that mean?)

Friday five.

Five things I am excited about as a result of recent events, in no particular order:

• Watching east coast hockey face-offs at 4:30pm.
• A temporary halt in screenplay idea additions, but actually having time and energy to work on the damned screenplay. (And/or novel. Whatever.)
• Fall in the PNW.
• Testing the limits of my frugality.
• Getting my priorities straight, my shit together and my act figured out. (And/or having lots of fun. Whatever.)

It's gonna be the BEST. FALL. EVER.

Astrology shmastrology.

Monday's horoscope: You might get carried away with your feelings now and announce them at work before you consider the consequences of such an emotional disclosure. It's not that there is anything inherently wrong with sharing your inner process; it's just that you cannot take back what you say once it's out there. Today is one of those days when saying fewer words is surely better than talking too much.

Tuesday's: Although you are quite focused on your professional development now, you can also step back to take a longer view of your goals as the Sun enters your 9th House of Future Vision. However, balancing the fantasy of your ideal situation with your current responsibilities may not be all that easy. Pushing anything too far today will only make it more complicated.

Today's: Others might see you as less stable than usual, but that's just because they don't understand what's driving your decisions. You have an unorthodox approach to life and you are able to rationalize your eccentric ideas. Unfortunately, your co-workers might not share your perspective and the more you try to convince them you are right, the less they understand. Don't push so hard today; letting some things ride for a day or two may be your smartest strategy at this time.

Why is everything telling me not to push and to be cautious? That's how I've been my entire life. I think it's time for change. Change I can believe in.

Things that are free.

The Multnomah County Library system. Most trails in the PNW. The MAX to downtown Portland, conveniently located 10 blocks from my abode. The Portland Art Museum on the last Friday each month. (Lots of museums, actually, dates/times vary.) The occasional show at Mississippi Studios. Samples at the farmer's market. The wiener dog races. Shows and movies and food via Yelp for us "elite" folk.

Teh intarwebs, given the right equipment and location, can be free. iTunes has a free download each week. And if the "right location" is Starbucks, that's another free weekly download.

Writing. Watching, observing. Listening. Volunteering for worthy organizations. All free.

I'm just saying. I could live a good long while on free stuff. Might come in handy soon. (Note to self - maintain that Yelp elite status... will be interesting to do without spending money but I bet I can find a way.)

In other news, I found a new blog to follow religiously.

MusicFestNW, Day 5.

The only option tonight was the Crystal Ballroom for three bands leading up to the end of Musicfest NW 2009, Modest Mouse. I love their recorded stuff but as of yet, hadn't seen them, and figured I should at some point. I really wasn't feeling it - especially given all the negative feedback I'd heard about Isaac Brock's performances (drunk, unintelligible, a waste of time) and the fact that I rate the Crystal Ballroom as the worst venue to see a show in Portland.

So in case I decided to opt out, but to keep with the "musicfest" theme, I saw a matinee of It Might Get Loud. WOW. Jimmy Page, The Edge and Jack White talking about making music and playing each others' songs together? With rarely seen old footage of Page and Edge's early years? Fans of any of these three, or even just of the guitar, or music in general, should see this. It was quite entertaining to watch Jack attempt to be so nonchalant about the meetup even though it was clear when they were all talking and playing, that he was pretty stoked.

And so I was inspired, and the Crystal show would essentially be free (what with the pre-paid wristband, which had already paid for itself). I killed some time in a local record store, got a quick dinner and headed in.

OK. I'm a little concerned that all my MySpace links have left some kind of "virus disguised as an anti-virus" on my computer (how annoyingly clever!), so I will just say without links that Morning Teleportation was probably the most surprisingly entertaining band I saw all weekend. You can find them on YouTube. I think they hit almost every genre in their set, and they definitely had such a great time doing it all. Best set of the night, hands down.

This was followed by Mimicking Birds, who, in another venue after not following the aforementioned energetic-bordering-on-Riddlin-requiring band, might have been pretty enjoyable. They were quiet, and the sound at the Crystal is awful so I couldn't hear a single word he said, and it just seemed like an inappropriate booking given the other three acts of the evening. I need to give them a second chance at a more appropriate venue though.

Next up was Love As Laughter. If they were opening for another band I wanted to see, that would be OK, but I wouldn't seek them out specifically. Which is not to say that they were bad. I just wouldn't pay money to see only them again.

And finally, Modest Mouse. It was everything I hoped for... a couple of random songs followed by a brief, unintelligible rant by Brock, followed by several more songs...

Followed by a longer unintelligible Brock rant having to do with wanting to be paid in jet skis because then he could visit places he really wanted to visit, only they would have to flood first because that's the only way he could use his jet ski there... This went on for about 4 minutes and when someone(s) shouted "just play a song!" (I was not one of them but I was definitely in agreement) Brock then went on a 5 minute tirade about how he never felt comfortable talking in front of large groups of people and everyone should just respect the fact that he was talking because he felt like he should be talking even though he didn't really have anything to say... and so on and so forth and finally, the inevitable "Oh, fuck it, let's just play a song."

(At least I think this is what happened - between his mumbling, his possible/probable drunkeness, and the terrible sound at the Crystal, he could've been telling us a story about imaginary butterflies in the Amazon who led the ghost of a medicine man to the cure for cancer, and no one would've known what the hell he was talking about either.)

ANYWAY! At that point I was thinking, "just play Float On so I can go home, OK already?" and two songs later they did, and I felt fulfilled, and I went home. I'm sure I missed a great cover of a New Order song or something equally random, but I got what I needed out of that and won't need to pay to see that again.

Only regret this year: I didn't see Sunny Day Real Estate. But I saw Jeremy Enigk last summer, and seeing them Friday would've meant I didn't see Nurses at the Doug Fir, and that would've been sad. Otherwise, I'm OK with how this all went down. And now the wristband has been severed and I sleep. Back to real life tomorrow. Must work on that.

MusicFestNW, Day 4.

Tonight I opted to stay put at Mississippi Studios and see what happened. All the bands appealed to me for one reason or another, and Mississippi is not within walking distance of pretty much anything other than food and shopping (unlike the other venues from prior nights, all within a max 10 minute walk of each other) so staying put made sense. Besides, I'd never been and everyone raved about it, so I figured what the heck.

I liked it all. Other than the venue being a great place to see music, here's why.

All Smiles was just the singer/guitar guy, not the whole band, but other members of the band were there and he never explained why they weren't onstage with him. Good, I don't care, just keep playing those wonderfully lovely depressing songs.

The Lonely Forest were four spunky kids who chatted with the crowd and looked happy to be there. The main guy was clearly the alpha, but later I looked at the CD I'd purchased and saw that all the songs were pretty much his creation so I understood why. The drummer was a joy to watch - very concentrated (tongue sticking out in concentration at certain points), very intent on getting some limelight by rocking out. While the lyrics were youthful, they were also thoughtful - not just words strung together to rhyme, but words that told stories - and at one point it occurred to me that perhaps that was what Ben Gibbard's first set of songs had sounded like. Musically they were completely together... until the energetic alpha knocked his keyboard off the stage, anyway, which pretty much ended the show. (How exciting! I've never seen THAT happen before!) I'm listening to the CD as I type, and they sound much older than they actually appear to be.

Point Juncture, WA were fun to watch. I wasn't as into their music, but I want to give the recorded stuff a try because people seem to think I would dig it. The reason I liked them tonight was because every band member played at least two instruments. The bass player and drummer switched up throughout, the keyboard player also played a trumpet, and the guitarist banged out a few notes on the xylophone at one point, and a few beats on the drum at another point. (Not as impressive as the others, perhaps, but when you also consider that he played that six-string like Animal would've played a guitar... VERY fun to watch.) Also? Two of them played two instruments (drums/tambourine, keyboard/horn) at the same time! Also? It was quite clear that they liked each other a lot, and had a lot of fun playing together. And instead of being happy they got to play longer because the next band was going to be late they basically asked us all to cross our fingers that they arrived safely. And there's much to be said for all of that, so I will give them the old college try.

Cotton Jones was the band that was late. Their bus almost caught on fire, they said, but it didn't. Because of their shortened time, they opted for a very stripped down version of their songs - one acoustic and four voices, which takes a lot less time to set up and break down, and which, if you listen to their MySpace stuff, was quite different but still just as amazing. They're from Cumberland, MD, near my hometown. Buy their CD.

And finally, local faves Loch Lomond. Heard some new stuff and familiar old stuff. I just love these guys and gals. Um... that's a lame review. OK, "lead singer/multi-instrumentalist Ritchie" announced that he'd bought some new argyle socks today but one "had blown out" (it kept falling down). He had rolled up his pant legs to show off his new socks, and at one point he rolled his pant leg down - just the one - to hide the rumpled argyle because it was clearly distressing him so. It is this type of quirkiness that makes this band phenomenal. See them live. You won't regret it.

Today - well, at this point, yesterday - I slept until noon. I'm guessing my Sunday will fare similarly, but I'm old and OK with that. The biggest question: do I bother standing in line five hours early for Modest Mouse playing at the venue with the crappiest sound in Portland, or do I quit while I'm ahead and pay for a ticket next time they go to the Edgefield? Inquiring minds want to know.

And on it goes...

Click here for a cheap laugh.

(Source here.)

Well, duh.

You Belong in Fall

Intelligent, introspective, and quite expressive at times... You appreciate the changes in color, climate, and mood that fall brings. Whether you're carving wacky pumpkins or taking long drives, autumn is a favorite time of year for you.

What Season Are You?

(OK, but this one was pretty funny...

You Are Cilantro

The bad news is that there are some people who can't stand you. The good news is that most people love you more than anything else in the world. You are distinct, unusual, fresh, and very controversial. And you wouldn't have it any other way.

What Spice Are You?)

MusicFestNW, Day 3.

Most of it was quite a bust. I sat through three bands @ Berbati's that seemed interesting this morning, but by the time the night rolled around... well, perhaps I was just ready for something a little more interesting.

I left halfway through the third act, after mentally composing a Facebook status having to do with instating a new rule: people who actually came to see the band, inside - people who came to talk (rather loudly and drunkenly), or Facebook/Tweet/play games*/otherwise wave their glowing neon device in my face, outside. One step ahead of you - NOW GET OFF MY LAWN.

Anyway, I wandered over to Backspace to see what was happening there. Last year I'd seen a plucky punk band from Dallas (which cheered me up) after just missing Matt and Kim (which bummed me out). Apparently, this gal and some friends were what was happening around 10:15 tonight. Lovely stuff, really - but not at all what I was in the mood for, and oh my god people were even talking loudly during THAT quiet set, so I headed back across Burnside to Dante's for a bit of The Soft Pack (good clean loud garage punk So Cal fun), and then over the river to the Doug Fir for one last show.

(No, Dante's, I am not staying for the Mudhoney show, for the same reason I am skipping the Chairlift show at the Holocene - I only know one of their songs and I don't really like it all that much. I suspect I will come to regret the Mudhoney decision, but... eh, whatever.)

But first, a digression. On the way to Doug Fir, I passed an interesting scene involving about five people dressed in colonial garb and one guy with a very large, convincing insect puppet over the upper half of his body. All told the guy + puppet may have reached 12' in height and the guy was maneuvering the insect puppet quite adeptly. I didn't see any video cameras or lights, which would've indicated a typical Portland scene of film school students working on a project.

Naturally, all I could think of this strange debacle in front of me was, "great, he'll probably be at the Doug Fir standing right in front of me for the next show." (Haha, actually, all I could think was "*&^% of all the days I leave my camera at home!!") End of digression.

Why do I doubt the Doug Fir? Why? It's such a silly notion to think they will ever let me down. It was crowded, sure, and after the set it took heroic efforts to procure a CD of the band I had just seen because the seller insisted on exact change of $12, but...

Oh, the set? By a trio of Nurses. It was great. They are unique, interesting, like nothing I've seen since maybe Xavier Rudd last year at MFNW. And from Portland - FTW!

________________
* Before the second act, a girl sat down next to me, pulled out her glowing neon device, and proceeded to play some sort of video game through the second act's entire set. Never looked up once. REALLY? That's just rude.

MusicFestNW, Day 2.

Because at least one person will care about this... Maybe two, if I remind her that this blog exists... Maybe even three, if I can use it as a sample for my music/concert reviewer dream job.

As mentioned, I skipped Day 1 in favor of zombies, so I was very excited to plan tonight's agenda between work projects today. First up was The Helio Sequence (from Portland? I thought they were Seattle!), free at the Wonder Ballroom. I really, really like this band, but I have to say... I was not impressed with the live show. It was neat to see them live, because I never have, but the music and format is not exactly conducive to a great live show. When I can get the same exact thing on my comfy couch, I probably won't be paying money to see anyone in the future. I caught a few minutes of the set of the prior act, Dr. Dog, and I'm glad I did. It's interesting and while I'm not sure I could listen to it regularly on headphones, I would really like to see a full set of theirs live. The energy was definitely there.

Next up: downtown. But first, a digression. I alternated back and forth four times between the Ash Street Saloon and Dante's, which are a mere four blocks apart (thank you, damn small town) but in a sketchy part of damn small town. So this required some serious maneuvering amongst the actual homeless and the hipster "homeless," and I got an offer (twice) from an Emile Hirsch-looking hipster homeless boy offering his services as a "houseboy" and/or "foot massager." I declined both politely, but at 11pm after four hours on my feet I started to reconsider the latter. He said he cleaned up nice, after all, how bad could he be? End of digression.

ANYWAY. Band three (technically speaking, if you count three seconds of Dr. Dog) at Ash Street was Hey Marseilles. I was somewhat interested from their MySpace playlist, and somewhat disappointed initially because the first three songs sounded exactly the same, and they had seven people in the band, and I kept wondering why three of those people didn't just go off and write a different sounding song instead of contributing to the same sound. And then they suddenly pulled some sea shanty/Celtic-type stuff out, and it reminded me vaguely of a very early Decemberists type of music, and I had a whole new respect for this band. Natch, they were out of CDs. And they're not from Portland. Meh. But check them out if you ever can.

Next up at Dante's was Archeology. Portland representing, again! I don't mind their (MySpace) recorded stuff, but it's not something I would listen to on a regular basis and I wouldn't pay to see them again. There was just something off in their show tonight. Maybe it was because they were being videotaped for the MFNW and they were nervous? Maybe it was because they were opening for the greatest band I saw tonight and they were nervous?

Then back to Ash Street, for the Black Whales, who I was really excited about from the MySpace listens. In reality it was just loud (although to be fair, Ash Street is not really set up for loud, but this band wasn't supposed to be loud from the samples I'd heard), and even though they had two drum sets (which I'm growing more and more to love), and one of the drummers had a tambourine in the shape of a moon, and the bass player looked exactly like Will Ferrell, and two of them wore deck shoes with rolled up jeans (the antithesis of hipster), I just couldn't get into it. Very disappointing. All that said, please do check out their free recorded stuff. It's ear-worthy.

Then back to Dante's, where I was surprised by We Were Promised Jetpacks. I must've heard a song or two on the radio because they sounded familiar when I was screening the candidates today. And the band name was instantly appealing - sure to produce some angst and/or melancholy. And that they did. (Apparently, the band name brings "constant disappointment" to the singer, who regrets naming the band such a name. Having recently skydived I can attest to the helpless feeling such a name might project.) But oh my, were they amazing. I'm not sure how they would feel about such a comparison but it felt like I was watching Arcade Fire, Coldplay (albums 1,2 or 4) and Interpol in a glorious musical blender. To me, this is a good thing. As mentioned elsewhere, their recorded stuff is definitely good on the ears but the live show is amazing. They are the only band I've seen lately (excluding The Decemberists, of course) who really seemed to click and who really seemed to want to be doing what they're doing. The drummer was constantly looking at each bandmate for whatever reason - keeping everyone on pace, watching for queues for unanticipated song changes - it really doesn't matter because I've never seen a drummer do that. Good for them.

The band I really wanted to see, I was too tired for, but now I'm kicking myself because it's 1am and I could've squeezed them in had I skipped the review. Initial concerns about eardrums, the ability to fall into bed for an early day tomorrow, and the need to have energy for three more days of this got in the way. Damn this responsibility and getting old shit.

Sooooooooo not Friday five.

Five photos I submitted today for the Oregon Wild photo contest, in no particular order... I have no aspirations of winning but it was fun to sort through the ridiculous mass of photos and pick just five.

There were all these crazy restrictions on where the photos were taken, so I hope I complied. You've probably seen these here or elsewhere already.

Metlako Falls on the Eagle Creek/Tunnel Falls hike - Columbia River Gorge

"Oregon sunshine" flowers on the Steins Pillar hike ~ Prineville, OR

Steelhead Falls - Terrebonne, OR

Silver Star Mountain hike - Columbia River Gorge

Saddle Mountain hike - Clatsop County, OR

Employing callousness to deal with ordinary, yet profound, grief since 1994.

In case you missed the 967 status updates from your friends on Facebook... OMG Patrick Swayze died! I was actually JUST at the grocery store, waiting in line, perusing a National Enquirer-ish magazine which had an article about how he was heading home to die. (I might have to start paying more attention to those National Enquirer-ish magazines. They seem to be on to more than one would think.)

Until this year, the last celebrity passing I was truly saddened about was Kurt Cobain. (Don't ask - it was a grungy, angsty time in my life. Did not help that I went to a Pearl Jam show the night his death was publicized. The band and the ten-thousand-ish crowd were all a mess. It was the most intense show I have ever experienced.) Before that, it was Jim Henson in 1990. But otherwise...

Which is not to say that I don't always shed a tear during the Oscar obituary slideshow every year. But those folks have always been less familiar, less personal, less "my generation." Bea Arthur, David Carradine, Dom Deluise, Ed McMahon, John Updike, Karl Malden, Ricardo Montalbán, Ron Silver? Yeah, those were sad 2009 losses. Billy Mays, Oscar Mayer Jr? Well... I'm sure their parents were proud.

This year? First MJ, then John Hughes, then Jim Carroll, now Johnny Castle?? My adolescence can't stop crying. And Ted Kennedy, Les Paul and Walter Kronkite? Hell yes, those were losses to my generation.

(OK, my adolescence can't stop crying because it's realizing that this probably means I AM NOW OFFICIALLY OLD. Shit.)

Like I said, employing callousness since 1994.

________________
But if you really want to see callous, google "celebrity deaths 2009" and see just how many web sites are dedicated to this. My callousness is in the interest of self-preservation and sanity. Theirs? Just gross. (But surprisingly helpful in my old age!)

If Andrew takes a personal call, we'll ALL take personal calls...

... it'll be anarchy!

 

Meh.

And that's a wrap.

Today consisted of me waking up around 12:30am (yay, insomnia!), watching Roseanne reruns until about 4am, taking a slight nap until 8am, and watching crap on TV. (Um - Toni Collette doesn't count as crap, right - even if she is paired with Cameron Diaz? Right? Shirley Maclaine was there too! But I won't even mention what was visually consumed after that.)

Wait, here's where it gets good.

I decided to see Dead Snow at the Hollywood Theater because... well, because it's a Norwegian movie about Nazi zombies, and that sounded like awesome redemption for my morning o'Lifetime. The movie started slow, but just when I was about to agree with the Rotten Tomato haters it kicked into full gear, mocking and/or referencing every zombie movie ever made, matching Shaun of the Dead's pop culture references and the Evil Dead series' consumption of fake blood.

After the movie I turned my phone back on to find that a friend texted me the following message: "Did I mention wiener dog races @ Grant Park today @ 5pm?" Never mind that my cell phone ate my other friend's message (who I was meeting later) and phone number (which precluded me from calling her back with the meet-up plan). Sure, I'd have to go home before the big show tonight to log in to various web-based services and find her number, but Grant Park was on the way between the Hollywood Theater and my place, and more importantly, THE HELL if I was going to miss a wiener dog race. I mean, come on.

I laughed. A lot. And that was just during the warm up races. I had to leave after the first race but I am soooooo keeping an eye out, and planning accordingly, if this happens again next year.

And then my other friend called again, thereby precluding my need to stop at home, and I met up with her at the Newmark for the Patton Oswalt show, and yes he mocked religion and politics and KFC's latest creations and himself and an unfortunate hipster seated in the front row, and my cheeks and abs still hurt from all the laughing. How can such hilarity just roll off his tongue like butter? (Um, OK, probably a bad analogy but still... funny.)

And now, a final glass of funny before tomorrow starts Day One of Operation Focus. OF will likely require many days, days which do not involve alcohol or spending money or various other deadly sins/debaucheries. I'm so serious about OF (and about OF taking a long time) that I've even stockpiled a bunch of advance-purchase birthday gifts... sorry if your present is no longer relevant by the time your birthday rolls around.

So yeah, I'm about to get pretty boring for a little while. Go read a book until further notice.

Need advice.

OK, so Dexter had me with Season 1. I got it, I got him, I was recommending and enjoying and even Debra's character didn't irritate me. In fact, I kinda felt bad for her in the end.

Season 2 was meh, because although I could watch Michael C. Hall read the dictionary any day of the week and be entertained, all the Rita/Lila crap and Doakes drama left me slightly bored. But I watched and endured. And in the end, it was meh.

But Season 3? I plowed through it today in a sick coughing sniffling couch binge, and overall, it was a disappointment. Jimmy Smits' character was interesting and he's always fun to watch - but otherwise, a big fat fail to the writers of all those promising characters. Rita's drama was unbearable, I just could not believe Dexter would let anyone in on any of his secrets, and the love matches with Debra are always so contrived - really? after two meetings you're gonna go sleep with that guy which could totally eff up your case and then suddenly you LOVE him? REALLY? - but maybe as a purposely single person I suppose I should not judge...? Anyway, Angel, Vince and Mr. Quinn were the only redeeming characters in this season and they were all annoyingly normal. That doesn't bode well for season 4.

(And yet I watched the entire season 3 in a lousy day and couldn't get through each episode fast enough to see what happened, so in the end, who is the joke really on? But. Ahem.)

BUT. The best part about Season 3? It left with me two episodes of The United States of Tara, featuring two of my favorite people (Toni Collette and John Corbett), directed by Diablo Cody and produced by Steven Spielberg, with guest appearances by a very familiar-to-me band called The Eels (and/or A Man Called E, I can never keep up with that guy) and a fantastic comedian that I'm seeing tomorrow night. I'd heard about this show and then forgotten about it, and after two episodes I'm hooked for at least a few more episodes. Or seasons. Whatevs.

Damn you, Showtime. Damn you and the horse you rode in on. Eating up more of my life and what not what.

But the real question is... does this mean I would like Californication? I've been shunning it, what with the DD marriage issues and all, because I don't want to support those issues but I do love watching that man. And I have loved most Showtime shows, especially over HBO shows. (The only recent exception is Flight of the Conchords... which is AMAZING and if you are not a Bret/Jemaine fan I might have to send Dexter to your house immediately. But I'm not crazy like Mel or anything.)

Any Californication experience to report? I'm all ears. Eyes. Whatevs.

Oh, sweet pants of fire, WHY IS EVERYTHING STUPID?

Which I totally stole from this...  but come on, it's widely applicable these days.

If you agree, please post this as your status for the rest of the day.

No one should die because their stupid younger sister was made by monks, and the stupid blood of aforementioned stupid sister opened the stupid portal, and the stupid Dagon Sphere and Olaf's stupid hammer don't do what they're supposed to do, and some stupid spirit guide told them that "death is [their] gift."

(Guess what I've been watching again.)

Oh yeah, so about that skydiving adventure.

My friend and I had been talking about going skydiving for years. This is my traveling adventuresome friend, who went to Australia/Belize/Costa Rica with me, who did a 30-minute intro scuba dive despite fears of hyperventilating, who walked across perilous hanging suspension bridges in another (tiny) country with me, who wants to visit every continent soon and has almost done so, and while she won't be joining me for my 20-day Antarctica journey she has her own plan to get there...

So anyway, I knew she was serious. The original plan was the class-5 rafting trip with some other friends but she had to postpone. I replied, "No worries, we'll make our own adventure - how about skydiving?" (I think I got the reply in record time. It was something along the lines of "YES!!!!")

We opted to do this on her actual birthday a few Sundays ago. I made the reservations well in advance, but because the day was so foggy in the a.m. they had to make up for the weather with the earlier groups and we ended up waiting a really long time.

In that really long time, where we were able to wait on the field and watch the take-offs and landings, I went through the following thought process:

• Hour One: Holy bloody hell. We are going up THAT HIGH?? I can barely see the jumpers! They look like stars in the sky!! What the hell have I gotten myself into?!...

• Hour Two: Hmm... overall it doesn't look so bad. People are taking off and landing just fine. Lots of people.
  

• Hour Three: Our safety instructions, which literally lasted THREE MINUTES and consisted of "don't walk into the plane propeller" and five other safety tips that basically culminated to "just effing do what your tandem guide tells you to do and enjoy the ride." I walked out thinking, "Um, I think I need another three hours of safety training," but since I'd signed a liability agreement hours earlier which specifically stated that I understood that "sport parachuting is not a public or essential service and is not of great importance or practical necessity"* and also that "parachutes do not always open," I figured that would be a moot point.
  
• Hour Four: More watching of the take-offs and landings. Oddly calming, despite the group of gals who landed and wouldn't leave the bathroom area because they were convinced they would puke from the adrenaline rush. (They didn't. But suddenly I was convinced that I would.)
  
• Hour Five: OMG really I am ready can we just do this already? At which point I get geared up by a great tandem guide named Terry, who senses my apprehension but also picks up on my exhilaration. He managed to address both adequately in the 15 minute ride up.
  

And from there, it was a 15 minute plane ride up to 13,000 feet complete with instructions and peripheral guidance to the mountain ranges from Terry, followed by an "are you ready?" question as I was sitting on the edge of the plane about to jump (I mean really, what other answer could there be?) and then a minute of intense 125 mph free-fall followed by 8 minutes of 25mph floating and viewing lots of mountains in a 360 degree radius.

So, basically, it was awesome and I hope to do it again soon if an interested friend comes to visit during skydiving season. I went to cross it off my "list" but it's not there. Maybe because I knew it was a done deal?

________________
* I disagree wholeheartedly, BTW.

I need to re-prioritize "learn Spanish."

If I get irritated at someone who has just picked up and moved here to "scope it out" to see if they want to stay, when I basically did the same thing 18 months ago, does that make me acclimated, or just rude?

Or both?

Or maybe just jealous. This Texas-born person had just come from somewhere in South America, and from the sound of it (because boy, was she chatty, which was not exactly well received after I'd spent the day on an airplane) she'd been traveling worldwide for quite some time. Apparently she got by as a "spiritual healer" - although I have never seen a spiritual healer wear so much makeup and tight clothing before, nor have I ever met such a person from the state of Texas.

My friend's sister has almost convinced me that after Antarctica I need to hang out in Argentina and Chile for a while. It's incredibly tempting...

Really. Not in Kansas anymore.

Bush bumper stickers everywhere.  (Really?  Still?) 

 

Mosquitos and humidity (though just a bit of both, so I shouldn't complain too much).  A family reunion of sorts where everyone my age is on their third husband and/or fourth kid (and everyone except me is drinking a lot), where my mom actually said to someone I'd never met before, "Well Jen(n) never got married" - as though I was a 95-year-old spinstress pining away for lost love instead of a 34-year-old independent woman not remotely interested in that nonsense.  THANKS, Mom.

 

Dad's started in on the guilt about moving back east after reminding me to brush my teeth and explaining to me who Jay Leno was - he hosted the Tonight Show for a decade or so, in case you weren't aware.  This is before he turns the water back on after we've been gone all day, and after he unlocks the 19 locks to the house.  Fort Knox has nothing on this place.  If I had a car here he would offer to wash it.

 

Dial-up internet, 5 TV channels, Peets in the freezer from Christmas '07 because I forgot to bring any fresh grinds with me this time.  My second oldest friend has a kid.  (The oldest friend?  Not so strange that she's a mom.  This one kinda freaked me out though.) 

 

And the pool hall I loved as a kid is now a 7-Eleven.

 

Five days is plenty, me thinks.

Not in Kansas anymore.

How is it possible that my parents' house gets smaller every time I visit?  How on earth did I ever live in that tiny bedroom as a teenager?  We drove the route home from my old (also now tiny) elementary school after dinner and I remember it feeling like such a long walk 25 years ago...  A block with three houses felt like a mile.  Tonight it was a couple strides.

 

More interestingly, were my parents always this entertaining, or am I just appreciating them more with time and distance?  They have been married for 47 years.  Perhaps they are just appreciating each other more with time.  It comes across in their interactions with each other, with me, even with perfect strangers like the highly amused server at the restaurant who laughed at them mocking each other as they themselves laughed.

 

The moon in the cloudless eastern sky was amazing tonight.  I saw stars, I hear crickets.  I smell autumn.  It's not quite here yet, but it's close. 

 

Blue crabs and Old Bay seasoning are in my future.  This is a good thing.

 

I'm starting to think that five days is perhaps too short of a visit this time.

 

Wednesday three.

Three things I'm looking forward to over the next five days, in no particular order:

• A mini-middle/high school reunion (thanks, Facebook!). Lots of people will be out of town but the RSVPs are such a mixed bag that it's sure to be amusing.
  
• Meeting my dear friend's newborn, and, more importantly, wine with her and her sister. They're a good sanity check for me.
• Seeing family I haven't seen in ten years.

Over and out. Have a nice long weekend!

Public service announcement.

Pumpkin tempura reheats in the toaster oven quite nicely. I would not have expected that.

Now you know.

Question o' the day.

Should I be concerned that an internal training document refers me to Wikipedia "for more information"?

Thought for the day...

... "Total Harmonic Distortion" would be a great band name.

More with the yin-yang.

First, a small tribute to Facebook which I cannot take credit for.

Agreed! I have played Scrabble with my 8th (and also 10th) grade "homecoming" date who lives in middle America with his wife and lovely daughters. I have reconnected to someone in a more significant way because I posted a note about a first concert that he and I shared when I was half my age. I have had lively alcohol-induced conversations about life in general with my first ever real boyfriend, who I haven't seen since 1992. I have been the recipient of a whole hell of a lot of good music and movie recommendations from people I knew anywhere from 3 days ago to 20 years ago. I have been able to share music/movie recommendations with people I haven't verbally spoken to in as many days/years. I have bonded to good friends even more so, by knowing what they are doing/reading/eating/listening to on a daily/weekly/monthly basis. This has all been fun.

On the flip side, I have been stalked by people I do not wish to ever talk to again. I have rejoined the worlds of my elementary school classmates only to comment on their cute kids but "hide" their God-loving or soliloquy stati which I end up reading through RSS anyway. I have been reminded of painful memories I wish to forget. And I've been put in some pretty awkward situations because of who I've chosen to be "friends" with (hint: don't befriend people at work).

Worst of all, I have wasted a hell of a lot of time on this stupid web site. I can't even justify the majority of it to Alzheimers prevention through Sudoku and Scrabble, either. (But playing those repeatedly with a good friend has been a good thing, for sure, for both my sanity and my eventual 67-year old memory. And hers, I suspect!)

So... in the end, I think I just need to unplug and start volunteering again. And writing again. I mean, really writing. Again. And figuring out this whole life plan. Life's too short.

________________
* I can't immediately find a direct reference, and this link does not do my memory of this episode justice, but what I recall of it (other than the usual Jan drama) is that Aunt Jenny brings other cultures and tons of fun to the Brady family, and it turns out that even though she's not particularly attractive, she's been proposed to by kings and she's declined in order to live her own life, and travel, and just BE. That sounds lovely right about now.

On the one hand...

... having someone ask you the exact same set of non-invasive personal questions three times over the past 2-3 months, and having this same thing happen with 2 other people (different questions, same concept), makes one feel somewhat invisible.

 

On the other hand, watching brand-new folks be assigned weekly kitchen clean-up duty within a month of their start date, when one has not had the "privilege" of this assignment even once since starting 14 months ago, makes one feel happy to be invisible.

Not at all Friday five.

Five things I still haven't gotten used to after 16 months in Portland, in no particular order:

• Not pumping my own gas. Whenever I drive to Washington State - which is usually just for hiking - I try to buy gas just so that I can do it myself. I feel like such a girl when they pump my gas for me.
  
• Having to go to a liquor store to buy hard alcohol. I hadn't actually purchased any until Saturday's cocktail party. Liquor stores make me feel like an alcoholic and/or Maryland resident, with their "closed on Sundays" nonsense and brown bags for the bottles.
• The longitude/latitude. It was still light at 9pm last night.
• Cart-topia. This place is food cart heaven, and I've only tried a handful. Must remedy that in the coming months. Starting with this one, followed by this one (which I tried to enjoy a month ago but was foiled by their lack of veggie hot dog delivery that morning).
  
• Driving 15 minutes and being completely immersed in nature. Looking forward to a friend's visit this weekend and some hiking in the Gorge.

And also? Toxic chemicals that actually clean things, unlike those eco/people/pet-friendly substances they pass off as cleaners? Totally underrated. Believe me, I've tried all the eco-friendly cleaners and I've fought tooth and nail both the mold on the bathroom walls and the gross kitchen sink. (I owe part of that to living in a very old apartment, but in the 16 months I've lived here, it's never looked like it did when I moved in.)

In prep for said friend's visit, I finally bought this, and the bathroom and kitchen have never been cleaner. All I had to do was wear gloves and keep the windows open.

So really, I mean, what's all the fuss about?

[Cough, cough. And why does my head burn where I scratched it with the hand I used to spray the sink? Man, I hope I don't get a bald spot there. At least I will be able to see the bald spot in my shiny new clean sink.]

Public service announcement.

A&E on a sick day will make you feel soooooooooooo much better.

Seattle daycation.

I didn't spend much time there. I spent more time in the car than in the city, in fact. My primary goal was the Jim Henson exhibit at the Experience Music Project, and I'm glad I saw it. Lots of old storyboards of Muppets/Sesame Street skits I first saw on TV thirty years ago, and original drawings/origins of some of my favorite characters.

Other than that, I spent enough time to get the obligatory Space Needle shot...


I stopped by the space-themed 826 Seattle where I found the most amazing book about happiness written by middle- and high-school kids. Why is it amazing, you ask? Partly because before each entry is a self-written intro to the artist. Henri, for example, loves to "draw cheese-square-chubb-chubb looking things," and Eliot likes "pie and boom" (as in, things exploding). The restly because those kids know happy.

I was looking for Capitol Hill, got lost and stumbled upon Easy Street Records where I saw that Shins free concert two years ago. After an hour I'd purchased a gajillion used albums including stuff I wanted (Halo Benders, previously unattained Elliot Smith and Rilo Kiley, etc) as well as the soundtrack from season one of Sifl & Olly. (Oh, Chester...)

I had dinner with someone I've been friends with for 20 (!) years and his lovely fiance, and after dinner we stopped at a nice viewpoint in their neighborhood where you can see the funky EMP amidst all the high-rises and the Space Needle...


And then the sun started to set...


And then it was 8:15pm and I had a 3-hour drive ahead of me so I headed out. But I exited I-5 and turned around to get a shot of this:

I had no idea they named themselves after a street. The name is suddenly not interesting anymore... therefore, neither is the band... and that kinda makes me sad. Or a music snob. Or just an idiot.

I'm not sure which.

Friday five.

Five things that did not suck this week, which was a particularly strange week, in no particular order... was there a delayed full moon that someone didn't tell me about?

• A BSG season 4.5 marathon last Sunday. All I have left is the finale, and I'm holding off until Sunday for that. Because Sunday is before Monday and if I ever need a pick-me-up before THAT, it ain't football, it's the BSG finale (even with the "meh" reviews I've heard, "meh" is OK so long as it's) followed by...
  
• America's Best Dance Crew! This is my American Idol, people. I have a stake in Beat Ya Feet Kings, Vogue Evolution and Rhythm City. (And Mario Lopez is my Ryan Seacrest. Erhm... I think I would actually prefer Ryan Seacrest. And when do I ever say that? To be fair, though, he was my favorite part of Knocked Up. And when do I ever say that?)
• Scoring front row center seats to David Cross next month. I can't recall the last time I had front row center anything, so this is pretty exciting. I must remember to turn off my cell phone.
  
• I really am going to Seattle tomorrow for the Jim Henson EMP exhibit and some other Seattle-ish shenanigans. Goal #1 will be crossed off as of Sunday.
  
• The Comedians of Comedy, who are about to take my mind off a crazy, crazy week. I thought it was July that was supposed to never seem so strange, not August. I should have a talk with Colin Meloy about that.