Waiting for the great leap forward.

I know he's not actually writing them - or maybe he is, but if so he's certainly not sending them. It's still a little unnerving to see "Barack Obama" in the "from" column in my email though. {Insert image of Obama sitting down at his MacBook, opening Gmail, clicking "compose" and entering my name in the "to" line. Haha.}

Last night I sat 75 feet from a brilliant musician who has been a huge influence on grassroots political movements worldwide for the past 30 years. (No, not Bono. This was better than Bono for me. Sorry, Con.) He spoke of the optimism he has for the upcoming election and the change for the leaders of the western world to do something right for a change. There was no misinterpreting the double meaning to his words - do something right for a change, and do something right - for a change.

Then he played a bunch of awesome songs intermixed with hilarious or poignant or interesting stories of tours or politics or Woodie Guthrie's obsession with Ingrid Bergman, with the occasional jab at the younger crowd ("one day you will all get sick of us geezers going on and on about how f'ing great the Clash was") or the older crowd (noting that half the crowd - the "his generation" half - didn't laugh when he playfully riffed a few lines from a White Stripes song).

And here's where I get all high and mighty for a moment: I paid $10 for "standing room only" to the show (I sat the whole time so not sure what that was about). I think others who bought tickets in advance paid a little more than that. In all there were maybe 500 people in the audience, probably less, and this man spent 3 hours with that teeny crowd who paid a teeny bit of money and put on one hell of a show. Let's see Bono do that. End of HAM moment.

Anyway, near the end he talked about how cynicism is killing the world, and how musicians/artists can't fix things but the audience can be the vehicle for change and spreading the message even wider, and I'm just going to butcher his sentiments but essentially this man who has spent 30 years fighting the good fight basically said "I can't do this - I can plant the seed, but this is your responsibility."

I left happy but wondering what else I could be doing... What else I should be doing. I recycle, I vote, I support various causes financially. Is having 38 leaves on the "I am green" Facebook application worth anything? What about the Obama sign on my window facing the parking lot of the building across the way? The money I give, the volunteer time I spend, the jobs I've had that have a people/better world focus - does it in any way make up for the people who don't do anything, ever? Can't I leave the actual activism for people with the energy to do that, and feel like I'm doing enough with what I'm currently doing? I mean, if everyone in the world was an actual activist, can you imagine how crazy (or how boring) life would be?

I thought about it in a business context today, with the whole "needing all kinds of people to make a successful team" concept, and that helped to lessen the guilt a little bit. So yes, those folks can do the day-to-day and I will support them wholeheartedly, with my money or my referrals or my envelope-stuffing skills or my organizational namedropping in social settings or whatever helps the cause.

I'm a terrible salesperson anyway. This is all for the best.

It's like dancing, only more fun, and you get to hit stuff!

This morning I tried out a boxing class at the gym I'm probably going to join.

It. Was. AWESOME.

Well, the part where we had to put our feet on balance balls and do push ups wasn't so awesome, but anything I can do to build my core for running is a good thing. And the jump rope cardio was interesting... I don't think I've jumped rope since 5th grade. Turns out it's kinda like riding a bike though. (A bike where you have to coordinate between your feet and your hands and your brain, and jump a lot.)

But the part where we got to hit stuff? AWESOME. Even more awesome was picturing George Bush's face on the punching bag and totally wailing on it.

I think I'm hooked. Next step: master this. Anything with the warning, "never use it unless your life is in imminent danger - if you land it correctly without gloves, your opponent will wind up in the hospital more often than not" is too enticing not to try to learn.

I'm not a violent person. I'm not. You just never know when it might come in handy, especially now that my current neighborhood had as many violent crimes in an entire year as my neighborhood in Oakland had in just a month.

Oh, and also? Picturing George Bush's face on the punching bag? AWESOME.

17% of Clinton's supporters say they would vote for McCain, another 22% say they won't vote at all...?!?!

I'm sure she won't sleep well tonight. I'm sure she's devastated. I know her supporters are, I saw lots of them crying on CNN today. But after all the bad things I've said about her these past 16 months, I give her total and utter credit for paving the way for the next woman president. (Anyone know the stats on how many presidential candidates conceded, then ran the next term and went on to win? She's certainly got it in her.)

My fear is that her speech tomorrow will be like all her other speeches - still dividing her own party instead of rallying against the other party like Obama chose to finally do. This is her (last?) chance to step it up and get her supporters on board with the cause, not the candidate. Lives and dollars and the melting ice caps are at stake, for Pete's sake.

Fingers crossed.

Oh, and the idea of an Obama/Clinton campaign makes me laugh. If he concedes to that I might have to throw in the towel and move another 315 miles north once and for all...

And the hits just keep on comin'.

I accepted a job offer today.

Wait, let me back up. I think I've mentioned the interviews here or elsewhere online. I may not have mentioned the great vibe I got about the company overall and from the people I'd be working with. I also may not have mentioned the return to data wrangling and the significant decrease in responsibility (both of which are exactly what I was looking for in my next job) coupled with the not-insignificant decrease in pay (which I was expecting with said decrease in responsibility).

Anyway, everything went well and my future boss called today to offer me the position. And I totally freaked out. I'd done the math numerous times and it always worked out just fine - I could enjoy the same 401K contribution, same savings contribution, half the rent cost of Oakland, approximately 4 miles of driving per week (and therefore less gas $$), etc. I asked her if I could have the weekend to think it over, and she said sure.

So I did the math again numerous times. With various permeations including increases in "fun money" expenditures and higher allotments for birthday presents and all sorts of variances.

And it worked out fine again and again. So I called her back and formally accepted. And then I walked out the door to head to the grocery store and realized I'd locked my keys in my apartment.

CRAP! I kept apartment keys on one side of this removable chain I picked up a while ago, and the car key on the other side, to minimize the number of keys I had to carry while running - because, you know, that car key was just WEIGHING ME DOWN, MAN - and when I got back today I forgot to reattach the two sides. So all I had in my hand was my car key...

There's no on site manager in this building, so I had to call the property management company knowing that they would charge me $40 for the service call. While I was in the hall cursing myself for thinking that removable key chain was a good idea, I heard voices from the laundry room next door that sounded like they were doing maintenance work. So I ventured over and said, "you guys don't happen to have keys for the units, do you?" One guy nodded, went back and got his spares and opened my door. He shrugged off my "do I owe you anything" question, and the other guy replied, "you got really lucky, that would've cost you $40."

Don't I know it, brother. Don't I know it. And now I'm booking a flight to Vegas because this Midas touch has gotta be good for something other than saving my own ass or getting me uneventfully to a new town...

________________
My third day here, I locked my keys in my trunk. Fortunately I still had AAA, and fortunately I was at Ikea at the time, so I shopped while I waited and the guy got to my car in record time. But I really don't need a "third time's a charm" test on the missing key situation, so tomorrow I'm going to Home Depot and getting three copies of all my keys to leave in the car, at the new office, OH AND ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THIS STUPID REMOVABLE KEY CHAIN.

Belated Wednesday three.

Three movies I saw recently and my opinion of them, in no particular order:

• This So-Called Disaster: an interesting view into how directors craft their plays. I did sets for theater in high school so this was interesting to me. Might not be so interesting for you.
  
• Paper Cut: I have got to get rid of all these crappy quarterlife indie flicks in my queue. Not sure what I was thinking. They're always billed as comedies and they are soooo not funny ha ha (see previously reviewed crappy quarterlife indie flick).
  
• Dogtown and Z-Boys: I could watch skateboarders for days and never get bored. Occasionally I'll even think, I should try that, it would be so cool to be able to skate. Then someone falls on their face and I let the thought go. Anyway, this was a brilliant documentary. The dumbfounded looks on the traditional skaters' faces when the Zephyr crew shows up for their first competition = priceless. Bonus points to Stacy Peralta for featuring more of Henry Rollins than Tony Hawk (I love Tony but that would've just been cliche). Long live extreme sports!

Can't see the forest for the mud.

When I was four or five years old, I didn't really watch where I was going and I also rarely wore shoes. As a result I was constantly stubbing my toe, or stepping on a bee, or tripping over a sunbeam or some such nonsense. My mom nicknamed me "Grace."

One day my brother and I were at the neighborhood pool with my mom and as usual, I stubbed my toe. But this was no normal "ouch" and move on. This was a bleedy swolleny OWIE that wouldn't stop throbbing. Mom got tired of my whining and told me to stick my foot in the pool and let the chlorine numb the pain. Needless to say, her scheme didn't work, the chlorine pierced my wound like a poison arrow and I screamed bloody murder for about five minutes. From that day forward I kept my head to the ground and watched where I was going. So, I guess THANKS, MOM! is in order?

There is a point to this story.

Yesterday I drove out to the coast for a long hike up Tillamook Head Trail in Ecola State Park. I expected a little mud since it had rained off and on earlier in the week, but I didn't really expect the amount of mud I encountered. For about 80% of the hike I had to keep my eyes glued to the ground to avoid stepping in a mud puddle or twisting my ankle on a muddy rock. I was on a quest for Tillamook Head Viewpoint, but after about three not-entirely-pleasant hours of hiking I gave up, turned around and headed back.

I'm pretty sure I passed right by it on the way out. I'm pretty sure this was it:


I only noticed the "bench" on the way back.

Don't get me wrong. The forest was gorgeous. The views of the ocean along the way were spectacular. I had plenty of sustenance to keep my energy up. I just got tired of hearing, seeing and feeling mud. At some point on the way back I stopped caring about where I stepped and just let my feet go where they may - mud puddle or not. And finally, I was able to stop and enjoy the scenery.

The forest was full of fallen trees and new growth trees. These fallen trees reminded me of the Bay Bridge, as seen from the Oakland side:


There were also funny shaped trees:


The trees on the left looked like they were young whippersnappers busy voguing and having fun while the old grandfather tree on the right sternly glared with his arms crossed over his chest. (Or perhaps I was just hallucinating out of exhaustion. Do you see it?)

And there were tons of moss covered trees:


After the hike I sat on the beach for about an hour just watching the waves:


And that's when I decided that I needed to own Northern Pacific beach front property before I die.

And I also need to learn to surf. And go to Antarctica. And kayak in Alaska. And do about 96 other things. I came up with at least 30 sitting on this beach yesterday.

But liking shoes was not on the list.

________________
Alternate titles for this post:
- This is a long hike for someone with nothing to think about.
- Schplurgh schplurgh schplurgh schplurgh.
- This is such a long hike I've thought of 187 different ways to spell the sound of mud schplurghing under my feet.

Zen and the art of OMGSTFU already.

I think one of my favorite things in the entire world is when I'm sitting in a beautiful Japanese garden, watching a waterfall, one that looks a little like this, perhaps, and I'm reflecting upon life and enjoying the serenity and patches of sunshine...


... and someone with a voice modulation problem sits down right next to me and starts blathering about how SERENE AND PEACEFUL THIS REALLY IS NOW ISN'T IT I MEAN IT'S REALLY AMAZING I JUST LOVE THE QUIET IT JUST MAKES ME FEEL SO CALM DOESN'T THIS JUST MAKE YOU FEEL SO CALM AND SERENE?

Ahhhh. I can just feel the peace wash over me as I relive that moment.

The koi in the pond were almost as beautiful as some of the greenery. These two kept passing each other (probably out of sheer boredom)...


... but I watched them for about 10 minutes (also probably out of sheer boredom), and eventually I started humming "Strangers in the Night." And then I had to walk away because I kept laughing at myself and people were starting to look at me funny.

I also visited Hoyt Arboretum today, but the sun kept going in and out and most of where I walked was in the shade so I figured pictures wouldn't turn out too well. But in honor of this "beautiful world of trees for all seasons," I took this photo at the Japanese gardens:


I call it, "One of these things is not like the other."

________________
And now you are humming "Strangers in the Night." My evil plan worked! Mwah hahahaha.

Pre-Wednesday three.

I fell asleep at 9:30pm last night (which meant that I missed the OT goal, which made me really mad when I woke up on the couch at 2am). Recently this has been a pretty common occurrence. (The falling asleep early, not the Stanley Cup playoffs.) Other than a bizarre, undetected, asymptomatic disease lurking somewhere within the depths of my body, there are three possible reasons why I have been so tired lately:

1. Nutrition - instead of salad for lunch every day, pizza four nights a week (homemade - but at that point it doesn't really matter) and eating out the other three nights, I have opted to make food. As in, cook. Last night I actually roasted beets.
   
2. Exercise - unemployment leads to free time which leads to exercise for me. I've been truly enjoying my daily 3-4 mile run up in the hills near my apartment. The houses are extraordinary, the lawns are perfectly manicured, and there are rarely any people out and about so I can stare all I want. And on days I don't run, instead I hike or walk all over town.
   
3. Oxygen - the air is cleaner up here. I don't mean to keep rubbing it in - yeah we're all environmental, nyeah nyeah - but really, the air is just cleaner.
   

I suspect it's a combination of all three. So today I decided to change it up a little. I'm going to swap out water for juice at least once a day to up my sugar/electrolyte intake. I'm going to eat more carbs, at least while I'm exercising daily. And I'm going to keep up with the daily exercise, but I'm going to make sure I don't run two days in a row and/or more than four times a week.

Maybe someday soon I'll be less tired AND my work clothes will fit again! (Did I forget to mention that I've dropped a size since I've been here eating right and exercising? I know, I KNOW - bring on the mini violins, woe is me, etc.)

I started this plan with a beer and fish & chips at Rogue Brewery, so I think I'm off to a pretty good start...

Public service announcement.

MTV is good for 1.5 things these days. The "1" is their movie awards. Totally loose, random presenters, excellent performances, the absolute antithesis of the Oscars. And you just don't care who wins.

The ".5" is their obsession with Usher. Damn, that man is fine.

And now for something completely different...

... this news just makes me sad. Or mad. I can't decide which, but I don't think it will bode well.

We now pause for a moment of self-reflection.

I've spent a lot of time these past few weeks "what-if'ing." Not in a regretful way, but in a grateful way. Like the guy I dated for 3 minutes who introduced me to some sure-to-be lifelong friends... Like the job that drained me emotionally every single day, but taught me so much about who I am and what I'm capable of... Like the first time I tried squid ink pasta and didn't die.

Like...

What if I hadn't invited myself along on my horridly jealous, eventually unbearably unpleasant college boyfriend's summer road trip? Would I have ever seen the Pacific Ocean, let alone lived next to it for ten years?

What if I had gone to grad school instead of taking a corporate job right out of college? Would I have been able to visit Belize, Australia, Hawaii, Alaska, Puerto Rico, Colorado, Seattle?

What if I had bought a house in California as I, until recently, intended to do? Would I ever leave that state?

My guess to all those questions is "no." I wasn't adventurous ten years ago. I wasn't adventurous three years ago. And here I am, in a new town, basically alone, totally comfortable, happily exploring everything and everywhere, putting myself confidently out there to potential friends and potential employers. I honestly haven't had one single moment of doubt since I got here. The last moment of truth came this morning when I bought a single ticket for two upcoming bands. Until now I haven't really wanted to go alone to a show, but this morning I realized I just didn't care, and it would all be fine.

So - gulp - I think I hereby repress my worry that something terrible is going to happen. And I hereby succumb to all you "it was meant to be"-sayers. That's right. Not only did I think it, I WROTE IT DOWN.

Aaaaaand... let the games begin. GULP.

Have a nice Friday at work, suckers!

After a late start yesterday I headed back into the Gorge for a quick hike. Let the countdown begin to the last waterfalls I still need to see.

First there was Elowah Falls...

I got drenched by the spray across and back on the bridge just to take this picture. See what I do for you people?!

Anyway, Elowah Falls is fueled by Upper McCord Creek Falls:

... and the trail to Upper McCord Creek Falls offers a nice view of the Gorge:

Next week I'm heading west to the coast. Have I mentioned that I really enjoy being unemployed? Aside from the lack of communication/interaction with others, which leads to excessive rambling about absolute minutia when I do encounter someone to talk with, it's been a lovely ride.

Less punching, more whip action. Wait, that doesn't sound right...

The sun came out of hiding this afternoon for the first time in a few days, so I did what any normal person in this situation would do - I headed straight for the darkness of the movie theater.

It was okay. I suppose it was worth my $7 to see it on the big screen, even though there really wasn't much exciting action and it would've been just as entertaining for $7 and a beer or three at the Parkway. (Note to self: go to the Baghdad. Soon.) I didn't like how they purposely cut off head shots during some of the stunt scenes - really, we know it's not them, just show long shots of the doubles already. The main plot was intriguing but all the underlying plots got on my nerves. The kid was annoying - what was with all the throat-clearing? Maybe if he'd quit smoking for a month prior to filming, he wouldn't have had so much phlegm. I'm surprised that got left in. (I'm probably the only one who noticed that, right?)

I did notice Indy's hands shaking a little bit when he was reading that letter and actively opted to attribute it to the fact that the cave was cold, not that he was old. And his snarly slur has gotten a little... slurrier. But otherwise he's still got it. And Cate Blanchett kicks ass in every single thing she does.

The best part about the whole afternoon was seeing the Dark Knight trailer. I'm still sad about Heath Ledger so I've been avoiding anything related to this film, but I watched the trailer intently and now I'm eagerly awaiting the release...

________________
People actually searching for the subject line are in for a sad disappointment. Sorry, people! Google Bimbo 365 - that'll get you where you want to go.

Early Wednesday three.

Three movies I recently watched - or attempted to watch - that I liked a lot although for the last two I can't really explain why, in no particular order:

• Renaissance: sci-fi + black/white anime + a big powerful beauty corporation - what's not to love? (I confess I never got to the ending but what I saw was brilliant.)
  
• Funny Ha Ha: the entire {insert teenage network drama about awkward kids in love who do stupid things} series relived in just 85 minutes. Now how much would you pay?
  
• sex, lies and videotape: if it had ended five minutes early, it would've been brilliant. As it was, it was much like a car wreck... a fascinating, addictive car wreck that you couldn't turn away from.
  

And and and...?

Last night I went to a comedy club in the next town. I found out about it through this singles events web site. As the hours led up to me getting ready to go, I started to dread it. Judging from the profiles of the people who were going, I wouldn't have very much in common with them. And it was far (a 40 minute one-way MAX ride). But the comedy show was free to the first 6 RSVP'ers (I was #3) and it's not like I had anything more interesting to do last night.

And so I went. Or I attempted to, anyway. I ended up getting off a stop early accidentally and walking about 2.5 miles instead of the promised .4 miles to the club. I was {this} close to calling the gal to let her know I was giving up and going home, but then I stumbled upon it.

And it was fun. The group was small, the people were nice. A few of us had some things in common, and a few of the others suggested more web sites I should check out for hiking, running and other self-interests. The comedian was amusing, for the most part. The beer was good.

And then we walked outside and it was pouring. A pair of folks who'd come together offered me a ride to the MAX (which Oh. My. God I was so grateful for). In the car the three of us talked about job searching and I got some good tips. And after an uneventful (read: no small child turning around every 3 seconds to stare directly at me until I looked at them, which was my ride to the comedy club) train ride home and a short walk in the rain I was glad I went.

And man, did I have a headache this morning. After a lousy two beers. I must be losing my touch.

And now I've bored myself just writing all this down but I figured I should share something about my adjustment that didn't have to do with hiking. To that end, I also volunteered Friday with the local version of the "old job" and that was fun, I have an interview on Wednesday for a job I don't really want but it will be good practice, I sent an application for a job I really do want yesterday (cross your fingers), and I'm making some headway on this contract work so at some point in the near future I'll get my first check and treat myself to a nice dinner.

And for lunch I had the tastiest grilled cheese ever, along with some tomato soup. That should be the mandatory meal for anyone sitting inside while the rain falls.

And so it goes, and so it goes... But where it's goin' no one knows.

Unemployment, day... ahhhh, who's counting anymore?

On the advice of my wise PCT hiker friend, I took another trip to the Columbia River Gorge today to attempt the 6-mile hike out to Tunnel Falls. I wasn't sure I could handle a 12-mile hike with my leg acting funny, so I was rather delighted to find that it was more of a walk next to a roaring creek for most of that 6 miles rather than an all-out hike. It rained the whole way there and back, drizzling mostly but now and then raining to the point where I was concerned about my camera getting soaked under the numerous layers where I hid it. So now I'm just waiting for the cold to kick in and uploading some of what I saw...

Here is Punchbowl Falls:

Here is Metlako Falls:

And here is Tunnel Falls:

And here are more pictures.

Early Wednesday three.

Three things I still haven't quite gotten used to about my new digs, in no particular order:

• Not pumping my own gas. I've only needed gas twice since I arrived, and both times I got out of the car ready to grab the pump. Now that I have Oregon plates I have no excuse not to remember.
  
• This beautiful thing called "fareless square." I've ridden the MAX train and streetcar many times over the past few weeks, and never needed to pay.
  
• No sales tax. I always pull out loose change for $X.99 items only to be handed back a penny. I'm going to have to invest in more penny wrappers.

Update... hmm, maybe I should make a Monday four and be done with it. The other thing I wanted to mention was the lack of post offices. They have these Postal Annexes everywhere, and you can UPS and USPS and all kinds of other stuff (notary, passports, faxes, copies, shredding) and there are mailboxes at least every 5-6 blocks, but hardly any post offices. The Postal Annex people are incredibly helpful, but I kinda miss the bulletproof glass and the cranky old ladies of the Oaktown postal service...

Do yur civick duty and yes...

... you CAN has cheezburger!

Q: Where's our next president?

A: Somewhere in this photo:

I swear. He's in there. Amongst the trees and the 72,000 people at the rally this afternoon. If only I'd gone with my gut and gotten in line at 9am instead of 11:30am, I probably could've also seen the Decemberists. And that would have made today a perfect day.

As it was, it was a pretty damn good day. You may now officially label me inspi(red). Or just marginally optimistic. Your choice.

Why I moved to Portland, exhibit #75.

The Decemberists to play Obama rally in Portland Sunday.

And really, isn't that enough of a reason in and of itself?

"Sometimes you gotta run before you can walk."

This whole post might be a spoiler so read at your own risk.

Jon Favreau's latest endeavor as a director was quite ambitious. Turn Robert Downey Jr into a superhero? Give Gwenyth Paltrow and Terrence Howard approximately 15 minutes of screen time total? Sort of kind of successfully commentate on the Iraq war in a roundabout way? Really - Favreau??

The first 30 minutes could've been done in 10, and overall there was way too much talking and not enough blowing stuff up, but in general it worked for me. The superhero scene effects were average, but all the Iron Man creation scenes in the lab were pretty cool, and when Stark actually put his arm into the CG arm, I was like, WOAH. I loved Stark's sarcasm, especially with his robots (some looked ad-libbed). And I even didn't cringe whenever Potts was onscreen. Now, that's saying something.

All this to say, I think Favreau should maybe take it back a notch and jog. Greatness is sure to follow.

But please, just stay out of your movies. Why does every director insist on having a cameo in their own damn movie?

I wonder how many people called in sick today.

I think my body has taken over for Her Majesty in the WTF department. This morning, after at least 10 straight days of stress, hard physical labor (self-induced or move-related), and overall running around my eyes popped open at 6am as usual, then closed again... for five more hours.*

So at 11am I woke up and ate, then subjected my body to more hard physical labor with another hike. I think Triple Falls is now my favorite waterfall ever on the face of the earth:


I also really like waterfalls you can walk behind. I stood here, behind Ponytail Falls, for at least 10 minutes just soaking in the sounds and sights:


Lots of people were out hiking today, given the warm (I mean, BLOODY FREAKING HOT) weather. Tomorrow is supposed to be another record high day, even higher than today. I wonder how many more people will call in sick tomorrow... My old marathon injury is acting up with all this exercise, so I think I'll hit an air conditioned matinee and leave the sun and heat to those who need it.

________________
* I had some crazy dreams during those five hours too. In one, I was on a riverboat with the guy who moved me (and a bunch of other strangers) and he gave me a half-full bottle of cheap rum, and threatened my life if I put it down or poured it out. I didn't have to drink it, I just had to hold it. In another I left my car by the side of the road on I-5 for some unknown reason and in my attempt to hitchhike to Oregon, got picked up by a semi driver who had movie theater stadium seating and a big screen in his rig instead of cargo. It was neat.

She's melting, she's melting...

Yeah, you and the rest of the left coast, sister.

Quick! Something go wrong! Please?

I was all set to attempt an Oregon driver's license and title transfer this afternoon. Getting a license required taking the written test, and because I failed the California driver's test the first time (dang bike laws! we didn't have those in Maryland!), I spent a good hour perusing the driver's manual online before heading off. I was determined not to suffer the same hilarious fate in my new state.

They only allow test-taker entries until 4pm. By the time I got there it was 3:40, by the time my number was called it was 3:59. I glanced at the clock and said, "can I still take the test?" The guy said, "of course, no problem!" Hmm.

Five minutes later, I passed with a 93% (the two I got wrong were stupid, really, things I will never ever need to know in all my years to come of driving, I've forgotten them already). The guy was impressed with my speed and score. "I studied," I shrugged, and he laughed and sent me to the next window. I got all the license stuff taken care of but couldn't do the title transaction because I needed a smog test... So after the lady said "you're officially an Oregonian!" I hurried out the door to try to hit the smog place before they closed at 5:30. I had a general sense but no concrete idea where I was going, but I winged it... got really lost... and at 5:20 stumbled upon the smog place unexpectedly. Hmm.

It took three seconds to get the certificate. They didn't even hook it up to an exhaust hose or anything. "That's IT?" I exclaimed after the guy took my money. "That's it, enjoy Oregon!" the guy said. So now I can hit the DMV again tomorrow morning on my way to run errands. Hmm.

Seriously. People.

I can't seem to get lost even though I've been here three times in my life (I have only consulted a map once since Wednesday), there are no ants in my apartment which I fully expected with all this rain, I can't seem to miss shop hours, my electric stove is awesome for being an electric stove, the cat is adjusting fine, I've found a place for everything in this small apartment, I can't even fail the bloody driver's test.

It's unnerving. If just one teeny thing would go wrong, I think I could put all this anxiety behind me. Job search, fail me now! Just for a little bit. That would help.

Until then, though - I'M OFFICIALLY AN OREGONIAN! Woohoo!

Nothing will stand in our way.

Original post for yesterday:

Haiku to Comcast.

Cable out Sunday.
Work project due tomorrow.
No hike today. Phhhbbbbbbbttttt.

I hate, hate, HATE when other people are in charge of my time. HATE IT. The good news is that it's raining right now, so the waterfall hike I planned to do today will be even prettier in a day or two...

Actual post for yesterday, which I was too tired to post last night:

The cable went out Sunday so I wasn't able to finish up a work project that was due by mid-day Monday. I was annoyed with this, because I planned to do some hiking Monday and now I'd have to spend it waiting for the cable guy and finishing up the project. Monday when I woke up it was raining, so I chalked it up to a day lost and settled in to wait for the cable guy to show up during his 4-hour window.

The cable guy showed up at 8:20, fixed the cable in about 2 seconds, and I was able to finish the work project by 11am as planned. Coincidentally (serendipitously?) it also stopped raining, so after lunch I headed to the Columbia River Gorge to do some exploring.

I didn't know much about Portland before moving here. I knew it rained, I knew there was good beer, I knew people were nice, I knew it was easy to get around, I knew it was more affordable than California and I knew that Colin Meloy paid off his overdue fines at the Multnomah County library.*

But I didn't know about the waterfalls. No one mentioned the waterfalls.




These are all within about 30 minutes of me. As are lots of wonderful hikes that I can't wait to conquer. More photos here.

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* When I wasn't singing this line NINETEEN THOUSAND TIMES yesterday on my hike, I realized that I've learned several other things about Portland from Colin Meloy. For one thing, that Portland was located in Multnomah County. Good to know what county you're living in. And that the bus mall really is as depressing as the song implies.

Red is the new black.

In honor of my impending new driver's license photo, or perhaps out of boredom with the dark color I've been using for a while, I opted for "dark auburn" hair dye this evening. I haven't gone red in several years so I imagine this will take some getting used to.

When I was perusing the colors, I looked up and saw yet another pair of "raven in a bottle" dye jobs on the 20-something skater/punks walking down the aisle. I've seen more jet black hair in the past week than I've seen in... well, forever, really. It reminded me of the South Park episode I "on demanded" the other night while unpacking. (Summary here, full episode somewhere on the Interweb, I'm sure.)

I think all those compounded thoughts encouraged me to go red for a change. Nonconformists, unite!

Generally speaking...

... I am pretty settled.

I've found a place for everything except my cheap cloth shoe/sweater hanging storage things and some old Halloween costumes I will never wear again. Someone is coming this morning to pick up all the empty moving boxes. All but four boxes are unpacked, and those boxes are all my little photos and tchotchkes that I can wait a while to put out, or all my desk crap. My desk area is still a bit in shambles but it will work for now.

I got the VCR to work with the "on demand" cable box (OK it wasn't really that hard, but it WAS very important - I was determined to watch BSG on screen larger than 7" last night, dammit!) and I think I've sorta figured out the "on demand" cable situation. I also seem to miraculously be able to exist on eight electrical outlets, with the help of several extension cords, of course.

Her Majesty has calmed down quite a bit and is eating regularly.

I bought three interesting exploration books at Powells yesterday after checking out the Saturday Market (which is gonna be great for birthday present hunting). I hope to do one of the hikes or walks tomorrow. Yunno, while the rest of you are at work. Haha.

And I've made friends with the local Fred Meyer, Trader Joe's, Target, Bed Bath Beyond and WAMU, three of which are a 10-minute walk from my apartment.

All that's left to do for the immediate future, other than driver's license/voter registration/car insurance, is to wonder why the hell I signed up for all this contract work with my former employer when all I want to do is plaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyy...

Method to the madness.

Now that I'm living in the top green city in America (or one of the top five greenest depending on your source), I'm trying to be even more conscious than before about my purchases. Today I went in search of closet air fresheners and picked up a few Method aroma rings.

Not only are they biodegradable, nontoxic, naturally derived, kid- and pet-friendly, and not tested on animals... they're sarcastic! Seriously, the instructions read:

"1. Remove fragrance disc from package. Tear off foil cover. As tempting as it is, do not puncture disc. Fragrance will naturally diffuse through the protective membrane within a few hours. Trust us on this one..."

Now how much would you pay? (I paid $4.99 each. TAX FREE, no less.)

An actual Friday five.

In honor of recent activities, I bring you five tips for your next long-distance move, in no particular order:

• Stress early and often. This will ensure that you have thought of everything, and things will go quite smoothly.
• That trick from Carson the Queer Eyed Guy about rolling your clothes instead of folding them to prevent wrinkles? Works pretty darned well.
• If you pack your own boxes, buy twice as much packing tape and bubble wrap as you think you will need. Trust me on this one - it will save you several last minute trips to the drugstore, and you can always use it later if you end up not needing it for the move.
  
• Find a rich coworker who has moved recently and ask them for their empty boxes. This way you will have very good quality boxes and the coworker will bring them to work for you, instead of you having to go pick them up like with Craigs List or Freecycle.
• Forget that rule about packing rooms together rather than mixing up rooms in boxes. Mixing it up makes unpacking so much more fun!*
  

Bonus for those of you with feline friends... Prepare for the worst - chances are you will be more stressed about their travels than they are. And in addition to all the usual tips of putting them in one room and slowly introducing them to the rest of the place, have a can of tuna handy for when you get to the new place. Her Majesty took the 10-hour car ride pretty well, but refused to drink for at least 12 hours after we got here, and didn't eat for at least 20 hours. I was pretty concerned but after breaking out the tuna out of desperation, I took a Daily Show/Colbert Report/BSG/pass-out-from-exhaustion break last night (where she was curled up on my lap purring-then-sleeping-then-purring the whole time) and she started to consume again.

She's still pretty skittish but seems to recognize all the stuff from the apartment, even if it's not in the same place, and there's this new smell that might have some of the old dweller's cat mixed in with it, and there's this strange hard floor she has to walk on now. And she's definitely pissed off at me (but what else is new...). There's ongoing progress. Just now she ventured farther than I have ever seen her:

And maybe the 20 hours of not eating wasn't such a bad thing. She can actually sit on the window sill, whereas three days ago I'm really not sure it would've been possible:


________________
* May only apply for people who live in small one-bedroom apartments. I can imagine a six-bedroom home family being rather irritated with mixing it up.

Was it my hovering that gave me away?

Before...

Everything I read about hiring movers said you had to watch them to let them know that you cared about your stuff and what they did to it. These guys were great. I followed them around for a little while until one of them said, "so, is this your first time moving with a professional mover?" at which point I apologized and got back to spackling. He just laughed and encouraged questions/hovering.

My only faux pas was not having bottled water - just brita water and glasses. (And donuts and OJ, neither of which they ate, so now I'm stuck with donuts and OJ.) I blamed global warming on no bottled water, they didn't seem to mind after they realized I was tipping them. I guess newbies don't know to do that.

Aaaaaand after...

Her Maj is angrily blogging about all this as you read.

The mind of a 4-year old.

My [awesomely stupendously wonderful] friends came by today to help me move a desk. While the adults chatted and removed various drawers/shelves, their 4-year old attempted to play with Her Majesty.

Of course, Her Majesty wasn't really having any of that and opted to cower under the bed in fear instead. So the 4-year old became interested in the toy mice.

I'm not sure when she did this - I didn't notice it until I got home from delivering the desk:

There's an "I can has" in there somewhere. I'm just too tired to think of it right now.

Suddenly appreciative of daylight savings time.

Normally I hate it when the sun is out until 8pm. However...

The bulbs from the last lamp are packed, and it's dark. I have no light whatsoever in my bedroom, which means I can't tape up the book/clothes boxes, which means I will have to do it tomorrow morning. The moving guy isn't coming until noonish so I should have plenty of time as long as tomorrow isn't the first day in 14 months that I actually sleep past 6am...

And in another fortuitous moment, I found 20 slim CD cases on the bottom shelf of my entertainment center. Immediate thought: SHIT. Everything is packed, now I have to give these away to some starving musician. Next thought: WAIT. I haven't yet taped up the box with the CD bins, surely a couple cases will fit in each bin. Final thought: SUH-WEET.

Still waiting for something to go wrong... (Shut up - if I keep waiting, it might not. If I stop waiting all bets are off. Like Lloyd Dobler once said, "If you start out depressed everything's kind of a pleasant surprise." Same concept here.)

Occasional CCL post.

I was looking for tips on how to drive a cat 10 hours without everyone losing their minds, and I ran across this.

I especially laughed at #2. I turned an empty box upside down to make a little tent for Her Majesty, just to see what she would do. She immediately went in and poked her head out in a photogenic way, so naturally I went in search of the camera. By the time the picture snapped she was halfway across the room, suddenly completely disinterested like, "whatever, it's just a box already." As soon as the camera was off she was back in the box, sticking her head out.

Again, possibly smarter than the average bear. After 10 years, who knew.

I do not {heart} packing.

I never minded it before, either because I had so little crap that it didn't take too much time, or because I was only moving 3 blocks so it didn't really matter how I packed.

Now I have to consider box sizes and weight. Initially I had packed several dish packs quite full with heavy things, using the rationale "why not shove as much into this as possible - it's HUGE!" After seeing my former coworker's labels of "pillows" and "lamp [singular]" I wondered why they had used such huge boxes for such lightweight things. It occurred to me to look into this, and it turns out that packing dish packs really heavy is not recommended. Seems like such a waste of space, but whatever.

And so tomorrow I have to unpack those boxes and pack everything into smaller boxes instead. Meh. This is gonna totally throw off my box estimate I initially gave to the moving company. On the plus side, I'm no longer moving the desk, so the additional boxes won't throw off the overall estimate too much.

And my Ikea metal 4-drawer bin doesn't fit into the largest box on the planet so now I have to get rid of that. I didn't really like it anyway - I stored workout clothes in it, and with the mesh racks it left me looking like a waffle when I went to the gym. No love lost there, really.

And I'm going to have to throw away a fair portion of food that I'm not going to be able to eat by Tuesday/Wednesday... Might I interest you in frostbitten frozen broccoli? Whole wheat frozen pasta from last October? A large Tupperware bowl full of various packages of nuts? Previously owned Trader Joe's ketchup?

And so ends the day of frantic packing that was sandwiched between a lovely 2-hour hike in Redwood Park this morning and a bath, an episode or three of BSG, and a glass or three of whiskey starting... now! Because:

Q: Who needs a drink?
A: I DO.

Friday five.

Five places/things I never got around to seeing/doing in the Bay Area, that I'm not too sad about never having seen/done, in no particular order:

• the inside of/view from Coit Tower (though I did see from the Bay Bridge last night, partially shrouded in fog with the Bay in the background, and it was a lovely sight to see)
  
• the de Young Museum
• Tahoe (I got up to Desolation Wilderness to hike, and to Placerville several times to visit a friend, but never went to Tahoe)
• the Slanted Door, Gary Danko, Fleur de Lys, Aqua, Michael Mina, Delfina (but most of the other "musts" for tourists and residents alike, e.g. Millennium, Cliff House, Stinking Rose, Chez Panisse, French Laundry, Masa's, rnm, Scoma = check! ... and besides, the "nevers" gives me a list for when I visit)
  
• Bay to Breakers

Last night may have been my last time in the city of San Francisco for a while. That was an odd realization. So, as a bonus Friday five, here are five things I regret never doing while living in the Bay Area (which I will add to the list for when I visit):

• hiking on Angel Island
• going on an Anchor Steam brewery tour
• visiting the Farallon Islands to see the great white sharks
• Musee Mechanique
• walking the Greenwich Street steps to look for parrots
  

"There is no spoon..."

There is also no empty bedroom closet. There is no large box you are not ever allowed to scratch EVER DO YOU HEAR ME where the table and chairs used to be. There are no walls without pictures. There is no ginormous pile of crap for the Salvation Army. There is no pile of flattened empty boxes you are not ever allowed to scratch EVER DO YOU HEAR ME NOW CUT IT OUT. There is no bookshelf without books, there are no Buffy DVDs in hiding, there are no balcony plants that have gone m.i.a., there are no strangers constantly freecycling in the apartment.

This is what I keep telling Her Majesty to try to get her to shut the fuck up already.

Yes, things are in disarray. No, I'm not comfortable either. Now shut the fuck up already. This time next week you'll be even more miserable. Enjoy your carpet and your corduroy chair and your broken water filtration system that just spits unfiltered water every hour or so in your general direction while you have them, already.

Maybe I should just show her this instead. A little Uri Geller never hurt anyone, furry or otherwise.

I tried really hard to make this a pre-Friday five of SF Gate Dishing.

First I read this and laughed:
In response to the allegations [of Charlie Sheen being accused of spending a monumental amount of money on an escort service], Sheen's publicist Stan Rosenfield tells Page Six, "This is an old, old, old story. But, if you're looking for a really good story, I heard that Joe DiMaggio and Marilyn Monroe are getting a divorce."

Then I saw these two headlines and laughed:
Remains of Waters' Missing Pig Found;
Black Eyed Peas Reject China Boycott

(Because yes, the image of actual black eyed peas rejecting anything is hilarious. Think about it.)

But that was all. The rest is just drivel and, well... who really cares? Please enjoy the first ever "Wednesday three"... And marvel at the fact that I still know what day it is. Have I mentioned that voluntary unemployment rocks?

An actual IM with my friend who is experienced in long-distance moves.

me: so... when packing clothes in boxes, should i also put them in plastic bags first?
her: i never did
me: do the clothes end up smelling like boxes or trucks? what if another box in the truck explodes spilling someone else's olive oil all over my clothes boxes?
her: i've never had that happen
me: o-kay.....
her: but if you want to be on the safe side
her: pack in plastic
her: then wrap up with tape
her: then put in bubble wrap
her: then roll up with a drop cloth or tarp
her: then retape
me: EFF YOOO
her: LOL
me: ... sigh
me: ... you actually had me until the bubble wrap
her: LOL

Public service announcement.

I finally caved too, and Connie was right.

She's crafty.

I was embellishing on a scrapbook from a group of friends the other day. There were far too few drunken banter photos, so I pulled a bunch out of my archives and added them in. Mostly for my own amusement, but also to give any future viewers a true "picture" of the gang. ;) Suddenly - finally! - I got an inspiration for a Mother's Day gift.

See, I think I started buying Mother's Day gifts when I was about 8 years old, which means that for at least 5 years she got handmade macaroni necklaces or handmade Sunday school Mother's Day cards with glitter that got all into the carpet (but that she probably has saved anyway). And that for the remaining MANY years I've scratched my head every May and tried to come up with something creative. Usually it ended up being flowers or a Paul Simon CD or something else I ran across at the last minute. But this year I decided to make Mom a scrapbook (of sorts) of family photos for Mother's Day. Unemployment has its privileges, after all.

Although I bought the smallest photo album in the world (it only holds 24 photos), it was surprisingly still a struggle to find 24 photos of me and her/the entire fam/me and my bro (which she particularly likes)/her and my bro. (Lesson to all: take more family photos!)

But after some scrounging and a lot more Martha-Stewarting, I'm quite happy with how it turned out and I think she will be too. Here's the cover art:

The album mostly contains photos from the last 6 years of Christmases or other home visits, but there is also one from my high school graduation (over 15 years ago - holy @#$% I'm old!). Truly "past" photos are few and far between but I did manage to accidentally pilfer a few while I was home for Christmas, including this claim to fame and also this one, circa 1982(ish??):


(If memory serves, I think the instructions on this one were: "Look happy and wave hello to Dad, who couldn't make it home from his crazy job on his own birthday, but he still totally appreciates the cake you painstakingly decorated for him." Sorry, Dad. But we enjoyed the cake immensely.)

Happy early Mom's day to all you moms out there. Enjoy your early mom days of macaroni and glitter. It gets much better as the years pass.

Just don't achy breaky my camera...

Forget Miley's risque photo shoot. Check out Annie Leibovitz chatting with Billy Ray Cyrus (2nd picture from bottom).

He seems to be making her laugh.

THIS is news, people.

________________
Hey, it was a slow day, OK? The movers aren't coming until next Monday so I opted to abandon the packing frenzy and "last" quests for one day, and instead succumbed to god-awful daytime TV while prepping Mom's Mom Day gift. It was either this post or something about "all I learned from Oprah." Be happy it's not the latter.

Proof that learning is inspirational.

Last week at the Oakland Museum I saw a stuffed version of a vagrant shrew. That's it's common name - vagrant shrew. I don't think the naming people were even trying on that one.

It gave me a great idea though. If things don't work out in Portland, Plan B is to be a vagrant shrew, just wandering the world scolding people in an ill-tempered manner.

Get it while you can.

Her Majesty, eeking out the last days of Vitamin D exposure before the big move...

She's getting suspicious. Today I packed another six bags for the Salvation Army which are now sitting in a pile where the dining "nook" table used to be. And all the large framed photos are off the walls, leaning up against the wall near her food bowl waiting to be packed into a box. (She actually looked up at an empty space on the wall today and meowed. Perhaps she is smarter than I give her credit for.)

Not to mention all the funny smells this morning as I dumped 19 spare bottles of suntan lotion, at least three bottles of perfume/lotion, 187 travel bottles of shampoo/conditioner/lotion I've collected from numerous hotels in my lifetime (all partially used, so I couldn't donate them to womens' shelters) and hair products for short hair that I will never use again - until my next midlife crisis when I chop it all off again - so that I could recycle the containers.

And THEN? Then! There was the man who came into the apartment with the other man, to look around and see if HE might like to live here! It wasn't the catsitting neighbors, it wasn't the friendly maintenance guy, it wasn't a remotely familiar face. You could almost see Her Maj gasp and swoon before running like a banshee into the bedroom to hide under the bed.

Wait till I tell her there's a ten-hour drive in her future. Don't spill it - I'll break it to her gently... and then sedate her heavily... and then be on my way.

I can't, in good faith, say there's a connection BUT...

When Bill Clinton was inaugurated in January 1993 the average price of regular grade gasoline in the US was $1.06/gallon, depending on your source of information.*

When George Bush Jr was inaugurated in January 2001, the average price of gas in the US was $1.38/gallon (a 30% increase over the eight years Clinton was in office). At Bush Jr's second inauguration, gas prices were averaging about $1.80/gallon (another 30%, this time in just four years).

Today, the average price of gas in the US is about $3.35/gallon. That's an 86% increase in just four years, and a 142% increase in his eight years as our fine president.

Somewhere in there (I think) is a 373% increase between a 30% increase in eight years versus a 142% increase in eight years.** Regardless - inflation hasn't gone up that much*** in sixteen years.

Earlier this week, I actually drove around looking for cheaper gas for the first time EVER IN MY LIFE.**** The cheapest I could find was just under $4.00/gallon, but I think the money I spent on gas driving to various gas stations ended up saving me money in the end.

Gas prices also influenced my decision to drive to Big Sur in one day, versus driving down the night before, paying to stay somewhere and driving back the next day. So now I'm one of those fun travel-related statistics you hear about on the 5 o'clock news. Suh-weet!

Figures that this is the year I decide to move myself and, separately, all my crap, 500 miles away via good ol' highway 5. Meh...

________________
* Mine was the Energy Information Administration... lord knows we probably can't trust THEM for reliable data.

** I think. Math nerds - I failed high school calculus - hook a sister up!

*** Substitute any of the numbers you see above for "that much."

**** On principal alone I tried to save money on gas - not because I'm unemployed and trying to save money. If it were the latter I wouldn't have succumbed to the $22/lb cheddar whiskey cheese yesterday. I only bought $5 worth, but I just ate a few slices on a mere 4 crackers and it's half gone. But those 4 bites were sooooooooooo worth that $2.50.

14 hours.

Beginning.

Middle.

End.
More here.

I'm sorry, Billy.

Yesterday in the car I was scanning the radio and ran across "Release Me" by Wilson Phillips.

It is with great remorse that I admit I remembered all the words to this song, yet I missed some of the words to one of my favorite Smashing Pumpkins songs a few minutes later. (On on a different station, obviously.)

A travesty, I tell you. A horrible, embarrassing travesty. The brain is a mysteriously complicated organ.

_________________
In case you've forgotten, it just goes on, and on, and on...

Whoever said "never put off till tomorrow..." wasn't unemployed.

I can't remember if I've already told this story. I think I have, but it was eons ago if so.

When my dad retired, he bought a dry erase board to keep track of all the house-related things he needed to take care of in order to be able to sell the house and move them to a smaller place. If he woke up one morning and didn't feel like doing what was on the dry erase board for that day, he would erase it, write it in for the next day and do whatever he wanted on that day.

Ahhh, retirement.

Granted, it's been almost three years and the house-related things are not even close to being done, but...

Tomorrow I plan to drive to Big Sur for the day. I've never been, and it just seems like something I should do before I leave California. But I had a pleasantly longer-than-expected evening with a former coworker tonight, which put some prep for tomorrow out of whack, and I have some volunteer things I should really take care of, and what if the moving company can't reach me via cell to schedule a move date? I'll have to wait until Monday, which puts everything out of whack. And also, the wine isn't helping other than helping me to forget the several work-related calls over the past few days which sent my blood pressure reeling. (Seriously. Check my blood donor card. Yesterday was OFF THE CHARTS.)

I suspect I will still go tomorrow. I might get a late start, but time is running out and I do want to see the the road a-winding go from golden gate to roaring cliff-side and the light softly low as my heart becomes sweetly untied beneath the sun of California One.

Plus my cat is driving me fucking crazy right now, and they're coming to do maintenance in the apartment tomorrow, so it will be nice to get away.

But if I choose to erase and re-write for one day next week, I have that option. And that's a beautiful thing.

You always wanna know why they call it Inspiration Point? Well, take it in...

Exhibit A:Exhibit B:

Which apparently caused some tree-art inspiration:

And some Jen(n) art inspiration (is it me, or is the tree art modeled after the cattleguard?):

And say hello to my little friends... This is Sam:

And this is Jake:
I {heart} unemployment.

Uninspired + unemployed = bad combo.

I have no idea what to do with my day today. I have Friday through Monday covered, and Tuesday/Thurs/Fri evening next week covered as well, with the days next week filled with packing/cleaning.

But today... Hmm.

I have a free pass for the Oakland Museum. Maybe I'll check out the EB Parks photography exhibit and get inspired to go hiking.

Maybe I won't enjoy retirement as much as I think I might.

Who am I kidding - YES I WILL.

Comment disclaimer.

I finally figured out how to log in to blogger with my gmail account. (OK, it really wasn't that hard. But still. Now I don't have to sign out of one account and sign into another in order to blog. Priceless. Or worth a small smidgen of my unemployed dollars, anyway.)

But I haven't figured out how to get comment notifications sent to my gmail account. (I don't require permission to comment - yet - but I like to see who's commenting on what, so I request a notice when something gets posted, and I've noticed several things posted that I haven't seen before tonight.)

So until I figure this last piece out, which should really take two seconds of googling but I'm just lazy right now... If you make a particularly astounding comment, or any comment at all, really, and I know who you are, and you get no reply comment... I'll get to it soon. Promise. In the meantime, please email me if you have something REALLY IMPORTANT to say. :)

Net loss: one box.

I am officially on a quest to reduce the amount of crap I take to Portland. I've already decided on new dishes, flatware and pots and pans so the old stuff is going as soon as I run the dishwasher one last time. Most of my current stash was donated by former coworkers ten years ago, and I just don't want to be reminded of that anymore. The one-offs I will keep for travel/relocation purposes and eventually get rid of up there.

Turns out that Ikea has a curiously similar set of flatware to the one I covet from NY MOMA and some cute dishware. (From my experience Ikea dishes hold up better than Cost Plus dishes, but I haven't compared them to Ross dishes yet. And I have a gift card to Ross, so perhaps all bets are off. Regardless - whatever I buy, it will be of my own choosing, for once. And it will be for one person... So if you come to visit, BYOG, BYOP, BYOB, BYOS.)

This afternoon when I got home I looked at the seven boxes of books I'd already packed, took stock of books I'd brought home from work or collected from various people over the past few weeks, reminded myself of the movers' estimates and decided ENOUGH WAS ENOUGH. I have too many books.

So I went through them again, this time with a very selective eye:

• I have one favorite bread machine cookbook that I always use. Why am I schlepping four other bread machine cookbooks up there? For my bread machine that I will not use for at least 6 months because there are only eight outlets in my apartment? Buh-bye.
  
• Books from high school and college that I enjoyed at the time, but that I will never, EVER read again yet I have on hand to make me look smart... Because, you know, so many people walk through my bedroom on a day-to-day basis and peruse my bookshelf and say, "wow, you must be so smart." Buh-bye.
  
• Not to mention textbooks on social deviance, death & dying, social inequality, statistics and the history of film which I will never, EVER, crack open again. Buh-bye.
  
• And why do I still have A Confederacy of Dunces, which I loved to a certain point but then he just got on my ever loving nerves and I know I will never, EVER finish it? And also the book itself reminds me of someone I have no desire to be reminded of? Buh-bye.
  

So several second-guesses later I'm up three bags of books to sell/give away and down one box after I added in the aforementioned work/collected books. Net loss of one doesn't sound great, but I think this is progress... I mean, emotional progress counts, right?

________________
Want any of the aforementioned books? Let me know by next Wednesday.

An abysmal #$%! showing.

I'll be sure to work on that in the coming months. Perhaps I can start with today's bloody adventure (literally... and also in the English cussing way).

After a lovely discounted massage at NHI, I did some browsing at Ikea for microwave carts, coat racks and computer desks (all of which I will need one of in my new place) and then headed over to my blood donation appointment.

[Ed. note: Easily squirmish readers should skip to the next post. Ye be warned.]

I have small arm veins, and my right arm is especially tricky so I always opt for the left, which is why I have numerous hole scars where my elbow bends. Today it took the guy several pokes and some rooting around to find my vein. Literally, rooting around. While the needle was in my arm. I've had nurses who had trouble finding my vein before but there was usually just lots of poking, no rooting, and in all but one case it took less than a minute.*

Anyway, whenever I give blood I am always fascinated watching the needle go in, and today was no exception - what with all the rooting - although since I felt kinda bad for the guy I occasionally looked away or over at my magazine to reduce any pressure he must've been feeling. At one point I said something like, "good thing I'm not a heroin addict, huh? heh heh heh" to try to ease his nervousness. (I don't think it worked. I later suspected that joking about heroin addiction in a blood donation clinic is on the same level as joking about bombs at the airport.)

I'm not particularly bruised from the experience, and I got to read about Drew Barrymore's design secrets, and I gave "the babies" some blood, so all in all it was a good experience despite a minor setback in the beginning.

I mean, a good fucking experience. Now go give some goddamned babies your blood. Ahem.

________________
* The one case where it didn't? About ten years ago, a novice nurse was poking poking poking and finally found a vein, but the gadget w/vial she was supposed to attach behind the needle malfunctioned which sent the needle careening into my arm. I actually felt it hit my bone... At which point I said something to the effect of "Jesus fucking Christ!" and she apologized profusely and called over her boss to finish up.

"Hey, over here! Have your picture taken with a reclusive author! Today only, we'll throw in a free autograph!"

I went to a dinner party of sorts Sunday evening. It was a small party, but I only knew about half the people there and a big part of me was dreading being social with the other half. I just don't do "parties." Or "strangers." Especially in large groups.

Of course they were all very nice and told amusing stories and initiated stimulating conversation and in the end it was all fine. But it did make me question the issue of not really knowing anyone in Portland, and how I intend to change that when I don't do "strangers." I'm sure that in time, I will meet nice people through work and meet more nice people through them. And I think my plans to join a running group and volunteer are sound starts to meeting non-work people (especially seeing as how I don't have "work" at the moment). As long as I actually do those things, rather than holing up in my apartment which has been my tendency lately.

In the end it will all be fine. It's just the middle that I'm a little worried about...

________________
Today's subject brought to you by Thomas Pynchon, who I have not read... yet.

Actual Friday five.

Five CDs I bought today instead of buying a Mother's Day gift for Mom, in no particular order:

• She & Him - Volume One
• Colin Meloy Sings Live!
• The Moldy Peaches
• M. Ward - Duet for Guitars #2
• Modest Mouse - This Is a Long Drive for Someone with Nothing to Think About

I'd love to say I bought the MM disc based solely on the title of the album (or based on the combination of the album title plus the song called "Talking Shit About a Pretty Sunset"), but that wouldn't be entirely true. It is partly true though - they had a lot of MM discs I don't yet have and yes, I pictured the next 10-hour drive involving repeated listening of this disc. But really, I just love the band.

I did almost buy a bargain bin disc for $1 because the band's name was Early Man... But I feared that I'd listen to it and it would either be lots of grunting and drums, or REALLY LOUD METAL, and neither of those were worth my $1.

And can I just say, I am so back to the real live music store concept of purchasing albums. It was nice to browse through pretty cover art and talk to the checkout guy about the Colin Meloy CD and get a good recommendation for another M. Ward CD I need to find. Of course, I also ended up buying more than I should've and since I'm unemployed I actually have TIME to browse for 45 minutes and chat for another 10. But still. I hope it sticks.