i just decided

bsomething crazy, but exciting.

the clinic has been really slow, and we have more help than we need over the summer so dr. anne made it clear if i wanted some time off over the summer we could do that with ease. i wont get paid but i can have the time if i want it.



turns out i do.



neko case is my most favorite singer in all the land. and i find her music incredibly inspiring and her courage as a songwriter leaves me breathless and spurs me on. so. i want to see her in concert. she's coiming to bumbershoot, but i hate festival shows. with a passion. and i've been to seattle 900 bajillion times.



i've never been to reno, though...



i bought myself a ticket this afternoon. i'm taking 4 days off. i'm going to drive so i can see southern oregon. i'm going to do this. i cant decide if i'm more scared or excited.



guess i'll find out.

Dinner @ Deschutes Brewpub

hodie and i went to Powell's yesterday so she could obtain the spoils of blackmail. i owed her one, and she's become extremely fond of these weird little Japanese dolls that have completely interchangeable parts. head, trunk, and legs can all be swapped out for one another...

whatever.

i was starving. we were in close proximity to many fine eateries, but i wanted something easy, kid-friendly, and comparatively low-cost. i wanted to go get beer cheese soup @ Henry's but wasn't sure i could take her into the bar and didn't want to take her into the dining room. so.

the deschutes opened recently enough i hadn't tried it yet (though my experiences in Bend were pretty uninspiring) and thought it should fit the bill nicely.

wandered over and saw Steve Novick inside. so, that was cool... we were seated and my immediate impression was lack of design vision married to noise. it was loud in there. much louder than one might expect for a monday afternoon. it wasn't all that crowded, so i can only assume it was the "this used to be a repair shop" acoustics that were to blame. also, plaid industrial carpet? never a good call.

when i got a look at the menu it seemed like pretty typical pub grub, which was what i was after, but definitely upmarket in terms of price. not totally thrilled my reuben was going to cost me $11.95 i was downright flummoxed to see that the kids menu listed grilled salmon as one of its offerings. grilled salmon? seriously? if it cannot be formed into a patty or tot, my child is not interested. and i realize this is not true of all children, that some children are slightly more sophisticated in terms of their tastes, but i don't think i have EVER met a kid who lwould look at their parents and say "instead of grilled cheese, can i have grilled salmon?"

anyway, we ordered. my sandwich was not-even-middling fair. the bread was awful (and NOT rye) and the dearth of dressing was criminal, to my mind. hodie's burger was fine, according to her, but it was GARGANTUAN. there was no chance in hell she was going to be able to eat it all. the hand cut fries were passable, the honey mustard i sopped up with them was downright tasty. the "special rose festival pink lady" brew was less than thrilling, but potable.

this cost me about $30 all told. which is a lot for eating with the child. usually its closer to $20 for this type of meal in most eateries. i realize being in the pearl brings with it a premium, but usually that premium is married with a more satisfying experience all around.

next time i'll just drag her to Henry's and be done with it....

my embarassing admission is...

i've never been a bridesmaid before, but i've been DYING to. and i realize, this is bizarre. i think its mostly because my few female friends are either pointedly unfroofy and so had no use for bridesmaids, already married, or a long way off from being married. sometimes more than one of these things at once.

yet, the big secret is, that though i can fix my own car, go for days without showering in a camping context, and curse like a sailor, i am fundamentally a girly-girl.

i love weddings, and babies, and shopping, and tulle, and shopping, and pedicures, and brocade and shopping, and pink, and diamonds, and shopping.

and i will admit, that someday, i pray someone will love me enough to want to let me have all of those things. my wedding dress will likely be about 9 miles wide. and i have had many anxious hours fantasizing about my elaborate wedding and wondering how the hell i can hope to have it when i dont have enough really close friends to adequately man the phalanx of attendants i envision beside me on that magical day.

sigh.

but! finally! a close friend who's a girly girl is having a fancy pants wedding! and i'm IN IT! palm springs in march? nice. the dress is even something I WOULD ACTUALLY WEAR OTHERWISE! how lucky am i?

i guess we all have our embarassing secret admissions. as far as it goes, mine could be lots worse...

any other not-so-secret secret admissions?

nts nts nts

went with friends lyza, david, and brett to the Armin VanBuuren show last night at the Roseland. i haven't been to a dance show since seeing John Digweed @ the crystal back in 2002? woah.

danced the whole set. was bathed in other people's sweat and excitement. overcame my usual crowd terror to follow lyza right up to the edge of the stage. was struck by the contrast in this show vs the multitude of other shows i've been to in recent memory...

crowd, though sweaty, smelled good and this is crucial. i was far less anxious being surrounded on all sides by people who didnt smell in a way that distressed me. people were generally polite and trying to take care of each other. stage hands tossed water out to the crowd and generally seemed to be trying to make sure everyone was feeling included. dj looked HAPPY. like he was genuinely enjoying himself instead of the faux-torment put upon by some musicians attempting to convey the seriousness of their art by dint of a glower.

there was jumping. there was smiling. there were various stages of undress. it was good times.

what the fucking fuck

driving up canyon rd today. there's a speed trap, accordingly, i do not speed. i'm doing 35 thinking about the chores i have remaining and the show i am going to tonight, when i glance in my rearview mirror to see a black Durango EXCEEDINGLY close to my rear end.

i think to myself "what an asshole."
he stays menacingly close
i think to myself "what the fuck is his problem?"
there is plenty of room to go around me in the left lane
i think to myself "what the hell does he think he is doing"

and then he rams me.

its little more than a tap; frankly i can tell by the skill with which he executed the maneuver that he's probably done it before. i am stunned and frightened by this. and can only think: he did it on purpose. why would he do that??

i'm not going to stop for this person. this was no accident. and i know full well there is a police van about 2/3's of a mile up canyon (remember that speed trap i was trying to avoid?) and that is where i am headed.

and then, he races around me in the other lane and takes off. he's a few hundred yards in front of me when he then slows down dramatically and waits for me to come parallel with him. i look over into the SUV with a "what the fuck?" look on my face and he proceeds to smile and wave. he then peels off to the left and disappears up canyon crest.

i am, uselessly, so freaked out that i fail to look for a plate number. i mean, he was in a black durango. how many of those bloody fucking things are there in beaverton anyway? too many to even credit.

proceed next to hysterical, terrified, bewildered sobbing.

call police. without more identifying information, there's nothing to be done but for the nice officer to say he's sorry it happened.

Klaus seems mostly unscathed. still have touch up paint from accident in november, so i may make use of that for the handful of small scratches evident on the rear bumper.

call friends for comfort. one suggests park klaus and his distinctive plates somewhere else. when i mention this is impractical the advice is that i get some pepper spray as this happened so close to my house, they might see my car parked there and decide to come pick on me some more. strangely, this idea IS NOT IN ANY WAY COMFORTING!!!!

took myself to pedicure and mexican food as antidote. dancing later.

the way my luck goes

is a little strange, i will admit. bad things happen to me all the time, but they somehow manage to never be as bad as they could be, so i end up feeling pretty lucky all things considered.

what happened to me on thursday is a classic example of this phenomenon.

i left work a wee bit early to make time to fetch hodie before my weekly therapy session. i came around the corner at 82nd and had a clackamas sheriff flip on his lights and pull me over. i was a little confused since i wasn't speeding (for once) and i knew all my tags and whatnot were current.

mr. officer comes to my window and takes my insurance, registration, and license only to say: "So did you know your license is suspended?"

to which i replied "wha-huh?"

apparently, when i was in a car accident in november and the officer on scene said i wouldnt need to file an accident report, he was full of shit. and so, they suspended me.

as it happened, the cop was a decent kind person and did not impound my car. so this is where my feeling of good luck comes in. it could have been so much worse. so. much. worse.

and it's all been resolved and tidied up. so. phew.

dog mountain and the return of the black toenail of doom

i'll be wearing open toed shoes for the rest of this week, regardless of the not-yet-actually-springlike weather. why? well...

someone i like a real lot suggested we hike up dog mountain. not knowing any better... i agreed. even though the weather was less than ideal, i slipped on my shiny new fleece and prepared to be a good sport. what followed was the first honest to god physical exertion i've even engaged in for about 9 months. not, i must say, the ideal way to re-initiate oneself. because though the hike is only about three miles, it is three miles straight fu&^%ng up.

about every 3rd switchback i had to stop and pant desperately. at some point one of my expensive already once replaced rigid gas permeable contact lenses LEAPT TO ITS DEATH out of my eyeball; i was breathing that hard. when we were about 2/3rds of the way up we reached the one and only actual bench-place to sit. and about 2 minutes after we plopped down it started to hail angrily and insistently down upon us. i think it was the hiking gods punishing me for my hubris, because the hail stopped about 5 seconds after we agreed to try and hide under cover of trees. sigh.

when we got up to the last mile remaining to reach the summit, it seemed we had coincidentally reached the snowline. and me in my capris no less. it was here that it hit me just how much i really DO like this person i like a real lot, because the only reason i made this last portion of the trip was to keep him from thinking i am a quitter or a wuss. plus also he held my hand and kinda towed me up the last 1/10th mile. i hear in the spring the wildflowers that bloom up there are breathtaking. however, the most breathtaking thing i saw was the place where the trail disappeared around the side of the mountain under knee deep snow.

and when we finally did reach the top all there was to see were the few trees we took shelter under and the bank of clouds that were still clinging to the mountaintop. i was so tired i couldn't even stand up for my victory summit snapshot.

and then, there was downhill. oh god.

i just got these shoes. i love them. they were amazing on the way up. good in the snow, nice and grippy, waterproof, lightweight... i was giving them a 10. but, well, they are about 1/2 size too small. and so, on the way down my toes were jammed into the front of the shoe in a way that just spelled owie. last time i had this feeling was coming down Neakhanie. and i lost the entire toenail on one side.

luckily i dont think it'll come to that, but its bad enough that i havent yet put on shoes.

I am going to be SO tough and cool!

Friend lyza and i are going to take a motorcycle training course. if only we can convice emma to come too we will be the hottest book club/motorcycle gang in TOWN. and this being portland, that is saying something.

i am going to obtain the cruise-yest orange-est honda i can possibly find. just like this one. i almost knocked a girl off of her 550 SuperSport the other day. hodie agreed the girl was not nearly tough or cool enough to justify owning such a kick ass bike, and we should liberate it for ourownselves. because, obviously, we are. she, for one, cannot wait for mommy to become a biker bitch. i'm gonna get us matching helmets. it's going to be disgustingly cute. which will, in no way, interfere with either the toughness or coolness we will be simultaneously conveying.

hut hut HIKE!

went tromping around some of the scenic spots in the SW Washington gorge area yesterday. weather cleared up in the afternoon and turned lustrous. went in the drink a bit at the river, but managed to dry out by the top of beacon rock.

sunriver summation

went w/ the pencils to bend to enjoy the birth of various presidents (ie:carousin) weather was amazing. hot tub deliciously hot. feats of strength impressive. shotski complicated but successfully done. games entertaining. company enjoyable. specific company especially. wanted to make out. didnt. regretting same slightly. sigh.

went up to smith rock and had an amazing hike. heart poundingly, ass-cheeks achingly, calves protestingly amazing.

Yippee yippee yay. and also hooray.

it was a beautiful beautiful day on the mountain. not a hint of wind, lovely and perfect. I had an excellent first day out with lots of good runs and no hurting myself. a triumph. if my luck holds i wont wake up in the morning feeling like someone beat me with sticks.

Here's hoping.

..

although for a day like this, it'd be worth it...

Grand Central Boo-wl

Alright, dammit. I wanted this to go better than it did. I wanted the NEW Grand Central to be a place where I could wander in, bowl, have a drink or two, and generally enjoy the close-in SE location. Alas; it sucks. Ass. Hard.

I have some pretty serious nostalgia for this place for totally retarded but nevertheless compelling reasons. And I could not be more delighted with the rehab the outside of the building has undergone since its closure some years back. However, the choads who handled the inside are fucktards to the max.

The general consensus was that this place looked like someone had turned the Doug Fir into a bowling alley with less character and the most wretched soundtrack ever to have blared out of speakers. In the course of the 2 hours we were there we were subjected to: The Human League (tolerable), Barenaked Ladies (awful), Dave Matthews (unforgivable), Lifehouse (ditto), Blues Traveler (likewise), Devo (fine), Ah-Ha (totally acceptable), and Belinda Carlyle (meh). What moron selected this playlist?? Mother-of-God.

The multi-colored runway lights were annoying, and the giant screens should have been put to use in some better way than providing video accompaniment to aforementioned musical ear-rapine. Like playing "The Big Lebowski" and "Kingpin" on a continuous loop. Which is really the only use they could reasonably be put to.

The bowling was ri-donk-ulously expensive, the service was pushy and over-attentive, the whole "VIP" lounge thing was utterly retarded, and even after all that, the fucking bowling mechanism itself had pretty serious recurring bugs which bit into our hour of bowling enough to cause some of our players to be unable to complete their 10th frame. Weeeeeak.

SO! Its back to the Hollywood Bowl which has a comfortably dive-y feel and karaoke. Fuck you GC. Fuck you in all the way down the alley.

P.S. I did manage to come out with the highest overall score for the evening. :}

I overreact: part the 198546th

Current mood: Chagrined

Ok, so I was mislead. By many factors. And it is better to err on the side of caution where hodies are concerned, but i still feel like a bit of a wanker. Teach me to listen to Portland area news outlets weather predictions. Ever.

When we got home last night there were HUGE FAT snowflakes falling from the sky. All the weather reports were talking about 5-7 inches of accumulation at 500ft or above. Sylvan Hill crests at 750ft so I was thinking... um...I shouldnt leave my kid there and then have a ton of snow keep me from getting back. So I brought her to work with me. And her gamecube.

Needless to say, no such storm manifested. HUGE shock. Ah well.

I need buddies!

For Sweeney Todd this weekend...

You KNOW you want to see this film. Come with me please? It'll be fun! We can have adult beverages before and/or after!

Pretty please?

Crashing Sucks.

I'm fine. My car is munched. It was my fault. Stupid intersection at 14th and West Burnside. As additional punishment, I have to drive a Focus until my repairs are complete.

Splitting headache.

Poop.

Bestest Pre-Birthday Birthday Weekend EVER!

I like: Shopping, sunshine, being the center of attention, mimosa, my friends, fried chicken and waffle, copulating, going on trips, laughing, soaking, gossiping, drinking, exploring, and mexican food. And my weekend contained all of this.

Oh, yes, that hat? It says birthday princess. Hells yeah.

Had my birthday brunch at Meriwether's on Saturday with all of my favorite friends (less a few who couldn't make it) and had a really awesome time. I blew out my birthday candle with my laughter, so that's always a good sign...

Sunday I went with Mr & Mrs Pencil over to Bend to see David Sedaris give a reading. Which was hysterically funny. All I can say is, I now have th burning desire to learn more about Nicaragua.

Turkish soaking pool and a free show came next. I had no idea McMenamins offered a "Humping Hideaway" in the corner of the pool, but apparently the couple that was in there when we arrived got some sort of memo we missed. Plus, after they got done dry (?) humping in the corner, they changed right there in front of us. I was not expecting to see wet naked ass that night, always a pleasant surpise!

The weather was amazingly beautiful right up until we were headed back to Portland, but anytime it's 65 in late October, I am for it. Took the McKenzie Pass back across the divide, and though a remarkably twisty route and thus not the most time-efficient, incredibly scenic and interesting.

Still have the actual day to look forward to on Wednesday, not to mention starting the new job tomorrow. My thirties are already extra-bonus awesome!

Nostalgic Goopery

I am a sentimental sap. I cry at movies, and t.v. and songs about Michigan. I don't know why, but it has always been so. I become unaccountably attached to inanimate objects, like my 1980 Datsun 510 Station Wagon which I WEPT over having towed away many many months after its practical purpose as a mode of transportation was completely over. I'm not a pack rat, but I do care about holding on to a handful of things that have special resonance for me. And this is more true for books than anything else.

When I was born in 1977 my grandparents gave me (via my parents) a beautiful book of fairy tales as a gift. The stories are dusky without being dark or scary, the illustrations are phenomenally beautiful and intricate, and this book has been the measure against which all things fairy have been compared ever after.

As one might expect, this book, being as old as I am, has seen better days. The cover has come completely off, pages have been missing from Thumbellina since I was tiny, and small rotten offspring belonging to my sister have drawn in it. So, I have been on the lookout for a copy in better condition for quite some time. Being out of print, British in origin, and 30 years old has not made tracking one down an easy task.

Then suddenly this morning, I looked on Amazon and a little tiny bookseller in Grants Pass has one in good condition for an utterly reasonable price. I was nearly beside myself with joy. So.

I'm making a pilgrimage to southern Oregon to fetch it. I loved the last trip I made down south more than I would have predicted, so I'm very much looking forward to making my way down there again. And I like the absurdity of driving all the way to Grants Pass to get a book I already have just for the sake of immersing myself in the past.

Sometimes, fun = ouch.

Ah, the weekend. A time for fun and relaxation, and drinking, and pain.

I decided this weekend was going to be JAM PACKED with fun, so I filled it up to the very brim with activities which included:

~Party in Lyle with campfire, cider, much revelry.
~Trip to Seattle for visiting cousin & general troublemaking.
~Possible trip to hot springs (failed).
~Sleeping in my car.

Apart from my realization that getting to the Olympic Hot Springs from Seattle is like a 3 hour endeavor, rather than the hour and a half I expected, all of these activities turned out to be quite fun. And diverting.

While in Seattle I was treated to a scooter ride. Which was awesome. I love motorcycles, but this was my first time on a Vespa. It was a quality experience. Went out to Discovery Park right around sunset. Drove through Magnolia, which was just stunningly beautiful, and walked out to the lighthouse. The weather was perfect, the sunset golden and pink.

Nighttime called for city-going: a gay bar complete with vintage prison porn circa 1964, naughtiness in a photo booth, street food, the most amazing wallpaper I have ever seen, and the cha cha lounge, the awesomeness of which I can only describe thusly: Underground, festooned with crap on every available surface, lit entirely with red bulbs. Sweet.

And all of this was grand. Plus I got to meet cousin's new beau who is so cute I just wanted to squish his head. Seriously. Grilled cheese for breakky. Tasty.

And then, came the consequence for all this fun. I began to notice my inner thighs and sacrum were emitting a crescendo of protest as the day went on. True, I'd been pressed into the metal frame on the back of the scooter for a while, but it hadn't hurt at all at the time, and even though I had to spread my knees enough to straddle the driver I didn't feel at all strained on the ride.

Well. Now. Apparently, I'm not as flexy and bendy as I like to think. Who the hell would have thought I needed to stretch before getting on a scooter for chrissakes? I suppose I'll know better next time...

This weekend

I'm going to the forest. I'm soaking in the hot springs.
There is nothing you can do to stop me.
So there.

I love being the boss of me.