fall is my favorite
it’s always so exciting. one day a cool breeze floats through the window, carrying the smell of a single sun dried leaf, and you just know - fall is coming. on the weekends, a faint whistle from the nearby park where tiny football players are running around for their mommies and daddies who sip warm drinks on cold benches. the trees start to turn from green to brown and, in oregon, the grass starts to turn from brown to green with the first rain of the season. it’s comforting to zip up a light jacket, throw on a blanket, some thick socks. the night comes sooner, lending to the smattering of spooky plastic crap adorning store fronts. less lawn mowers, more leaf blowers. less barbeque, more stew. fewer berries, more squash. not the flashy, in your face, extreme fun, hot pink of summer. it’s fall, it’s orange and brown and cool and lovely. and it’s my favorite.
working is hard
the weekend always comes fast, and it’s never as bad as i imagine from my bed in the morning, but i’m just wondering - is there another option? may i select Not To Work as a choice for my adult life? that sounds nice. i’ll take the money too.
‘it is not that i object to the work, mind you; i like work: it fascinates me. i can sit and look at it for hours.’
-jerome k. jerome
excuses
i’m tired of making excuses for missing out on life. i have migraines. horrible ones. almost every day. last weekend i went to urgent care and twice had an iv put in to get a combination of drugs that made me panicky, sore and vomitous. the first time the nurse accidently removed the iv from my arm, so when i went in the next morning for the second in what was to be 8 to 10 rounds of the cocktail, i had to be refitted with the iv, this time in my hand. the effect, the same as the first, was so awful that i had a friend remove the iv later that night and cancelled the rest of my appointments. i had a migraine the next day. and the next. yesterday, at my desk at work, i cried for the first time in a year. i have 4 prescriptions that are supposed to help, the newest is also prescribed for epileptics. every morning and afternoon i swallow six ounces of foul tasting chinese herbs that are meant to reduce inflammation. all of these supposed remedies cost me roughly $80 every week. luckily, i am saving money by not spending time with my friends. not going to see the new harry potter movie because it will be too loud. not driving my car during the day because the sun is too bright. not living, just having a headache. almost all the time.
i’m not making excuses. i’m just complaining.
my first mobile
i have a big mouth. recently i was at a barbeque with a very pregnant friend of mine who is having a baby shower tomorrow. when i asked the boring but requisite question about where she was registered, she said she wasn’t. she has been shopping to pass the time during her pregnancy and has all the baby clothes she needs through 18 months, anything else anyone would like to buy is fine. i asked if she had a mobile yet, and she said no, she’s looked at hundreds, but can’t find one she likes. i should have nodded in sympathy and bought her Blueberries for Sal, and been done with it. but i have a big mouth and, apparently, a whole lot of faith in myself.
so here it is. i made a mobile. i sort of like it, i sort of think it looks like something i made at summer camp. but it’s done, and i’ve learned my lesson.
friday mile
a while ago i wrote about a great band called friday mile. recently, i had the opportunity to hear friday mile play live, here in portland. it was the first stop on their 10 day, 8 show west coast tour, and they sounded well ready for the adventure. the bass player, jake rohr, has been a close friend since we were both in diapers, so it’s especially exciting to hear him play with such a polished, legitimate northwest indie group. i had recently got hold of thei latest album, love & gasoline, and was pleased to hear some of the best new tracks, as well as a few brand new, as yet unrecorded numbers. the group has a very approachable stage presence, it’s easy to see that the four musicians actually like each other and are each fully invested in the sound. the addition of the strong, clear mates-of-state-esque vocals of keyboardist Hannah Williams, is a welcome compliment to the smokey, oh-so-indie flavor of lead singer jace krause. the smooth beats of drummer chad clibborn carry the sound and almost let me forgive the lily white, squareish crowd dancing stiffly in the foreground. this group has deftly mixed the right ingredients to carve out a unique niche in their at times oversaturated genre. i can’t wait to see where they go next. check out more at fridaymile.com.
finding janet
Last Saturday’s adventure was car shopping. It may not seem to qualify, until you consider that car lots are completely foreign territory to most of us. It’s not just the endless rows of shiny, homeless cars, packed in like a petrified traffic jam. The people are what makes the place totally alien. The argument could go around in circles forever, but I had to make myself believe that the people I spoke to were lying to me; that it’s all a scam and numbers don’t mean anything until you go inside, and all the cars are sparkly on the outside and crap on the inside. Seriously, isn’t that what we’re taught to think? The first place we went was pretty terrible. The salesman and I almost couldn’t walk between the cars to get to the one that was supposed to be ‘exactly what you’re looking for’ and $12,000 more than I clearly stated I would spend. I told my new, smarmy friend that I believed I could find the car I was looking for at the price I could pay and I had plenty of time so I wasn’t going to stop looking until I found it. He nodded in feigned understanding and kept showing me cars that I didn’t want and couldn’t pay for, insisting that the sticker price didn’t mean anything. Finally, he lured me into an awful room with low ceilings and cold tables half-filled with people getting hassled. “This feels like death,” I told him. I wanted to run, but he kept talking and shoving papers at me, filled with blanks for information about me that the IRS doesn’t even know. He told me that they need to know who’s driving their cars before they could put me in for a test drive. Finally, I told him I had been drinking and was not prepared to test drive anything. Thanks though, really.
Eventually, we ended up at the Honda dealership, and it all went down just like a fairy tale. A woman named Janet had come in to have her oil changed; she loved her car and always had it serviced at the dealership. While she was waiting, she decided to check out a newer model. She fell in love, and then I did. I got to talk to her for a minute, the guys helping us chuckled as we talked about how the color looks in the sun versus the usual Portland cloud cover. It took her a half an hour to say goodbye, and by then, I was ready to say hello. I decided that good deals go fast, and that’s why I couldn’t find anything that matched my list of requirements. They gave me a good price, and kept the car to give it a full service, polish and detail. They sold me a 4 year warrantee that covers everything, and gave me a copy of the carfax, which was pristine. And tonight, I get to go pick her up. My new car, Janet.
saturday adventures
i don’t resolute. that is, i don’t make promises that i can’t keep. and yet, i made the decision that 2007 is going to be a good year, and i’m determined to make it so. in the spirit of self-improvement, therefore, i started a routine of adventuring. not the life-risking kind of adventures, but the kind that broaden my world; open my eyes to something previously undiscovered. each saturday, depending on the weather, financial and other obligations, and my mood, i set out to experience something new. so far, i’ve visited a museum, two parks, a new city, and a new library.
today, i bought a map of washington and headed across the river to vancouver. i’ve driven through plenty, but i decided it’s too close not to explore. i chose the biggest thing on the map - lake vancouver. and it is big. i went there. it was windy and cold, but the sun was setting beautifully, casting long shadows and soft light. with a view of mount hood and mount st. helens, thick forests and deep waters, it was an adventure in the neighborly familiar. i checked vancouver off my list of adventures, as it’s no longer uncharted, but i hope to spend more time there.
next week’s adventure: unknown
psychotic break
i’m stressed out.
i know it’s that time of year, when we all find ourselves marveling at the days flying off the calendar. and i don’t feel as though i have a ton of shopping to do. it’s more the non-holiday things that are on my mind.
for one thing, i have a really long mental list of people i need to get in touch with. i know if i just sat down and wrote an email or made a phone call, i could stop worrying about it, but it’s hard. it’s hard to keep up all those relationships. and i really don’t enjoy talking on the phone. but i guess at this point i can pretty much declare that the pain of procrastination hurts more.
i’m stressed about money. i spend more than i make and i’m not saving and pretty soon my car is going to quit. i just know it.
and i’m stressed about the future. i’m worried that i’m not making significant steps fast enough. i’m not even sure i know what i’m working toward. there are so many things i would like to do with my life, but sometimes i would be glad knowing i am halfway toward just one thing.
and the war? i’m so stressed about the war. it’s horrible and it’s long and i don’t know how we are ever going to fix the problems we’ve created.
i can’t keep up with technology. i haven’t played guitar. i never sing anymore. i can’t keep up with technology. there’s laundry to do. i should take the cat to the vet. i think i forgot the password for my prescription refills and i’ve had three migraines in as many weeks so i need more medication. there are bags for goodwill in my trunk. my cell phone is broken. i lost my favorite scarf. and last night i made a big hole in the wall when i was trying to hang christmas lights.
i’m stressed out. i don’t like it. and i don’t think i’m going to do it anymore.
i’m going to be a notary public
the state of oregon now requires that potential notaries public take a three hour online tutorial before applying. they haven’t safeguarded it against savvy applicants, however, and it seems that as long as you’re logged in, the time keeps ticking, so it’s possible to minimize the frame for three hours and pay attention only as long as it takes to complete the open ‘book’ exam. i am, however, worthy of the office and would never ever cheat. it was a little interesting, nothing more, but here are a few of gems:
notaries are nice.
- A notary public must be a person of good moral character. “Good moral character” means character other than that which reflects moral turpitude and conduct which would cause a reasonable person to have substantial doubts about an individual’s honesty, fairness and respect for the rights of others and for the laws of the state and the nation. To be relevant to deciding whether a person is of “good moral character,” conduct of questionable good moral character must be rationally connected to the applicant’s fitness to be a notary public.
lord xenu will do, tom cruise.
- The notary must require that the signer personally appear, verbally or affirmatively swear to the oath, and sign before the notary. An oath is a solemn pledge of truthfulness to a Supreme Being; an affirmation is a solemn personal pledge of honor that something is true. Both carry the penalty of perjury of forsworn.
power through translation. the latin title ‘notario publico’ comes with a light saber.
- A person may not use the term “notario publico” or any equivalent non-English term, in any business card, advertisement, notice, sign or in any other manner that misrepresents the authority of a notary public.
eightyfive and sunny
oof, it’s been a while. i feel very disconnected from my former reality. i’ve had so many other, practical distractions since moving, i’ve allowed both keyboard and camera to collect some dust. i’m also a bit crippled by the retro environs of my new job, blinking green cursors, 2-ton monitors and no outside internet access. i’m pretty sure i spotted a pair of stirrup pants the other day. who can work under these conditions? ah, yes, government employees. let them eat cake too.
otherwise, the sun is shining in my neighborhood lately. portland is a great town. i have great friends. coffee people has a drive-through window. mt. hood and mt. st. helens are visible from the high roads. we grilled yellowfin steaks and gigantic prawns and i drank beer i’m not allergic to. it’s hot, but there’s a cool breeze that comes in from the ocean in the evenings. and i’m sleeping on a brand new bed that’s crazy comfortable.
that’s the news from lake wobegon.
bird flu
seriously.
i was forced to attend a meeting at work yesterday to outline our pandemic flu emergency strategy. the government of the great state of minnesota actually requires that each department define a list of essential operations, meant to be manageable with a 30% staff shortage. the predicted shortage is due, in part, to actual bird flu infections, but also accounts for potential home-bound hysterics. i have to say, i’m actually quite disturbed.
now, i’m not about to spend my paycheck on surgical masks and canned chili, but i have to admit it’s a little scary when the words ‘bird flu’ aren’t part of a punchline. and, by the way, if i ever do decide to start stockpiling supplies for the predicted 6-12 month quarantine, i’m adding bushmills, sapphire and baileys to my list.
friday mile
one of my oldest friends is a part of this group based in seattle. i just checked out their new album ‘using up our trust’ and i’m hooked. it’s a sweetly satisfying blend of quirky, warm vocals, contagious melodies and deftly matched instrumentation. in terms of comparison, you might find them sharing the stage at a senior prom near you with wilco, dios malos, or for the private school kids - death cab for cutie. take a listen, buy the album and support one of the brightest and funniest kids i’ve ever known. you can check them out here: fridaymile.
is it illegal to give me a bag with handles for my whiskey?
seriously. i’d like to know if you’ve ever received a handled bag at the liquor store. because carrying a bag full of glass and liquid is not easy. and i know there are handles out there strong enough to hold a couple bottles. they carry cantaloupes and milk, why not gin and bailey’s? i would gladly pay the 5 cents extra if that’s the problem. or, if it’s an attempt to limit how much liquor one purchases, why do they provide boxes for the real big spenders? whatever the logic, i say we band together and demand a better way to carry our liquor. otherwise, i’ll do like the ladies in linen pants at the co-op and bring my own canvas tote.
atrophy
lately i find myself considering, for the first time, the impermanence of my flesh and bones. perhaps because of my recent dental adventures, or the emergence of a burn scar on my hand, i am surprised to feel somewhat mournful of a newly flawed corpus.
certainly, at 26 years of age, there are those that would protest my two bit lament. however, to you i ask, do you not remember the fright of discovering your first real wrinkle? it is an unsettling passage. an eclipse of life stages. to be forced from the bliss of childhood invincibility into the inevitable downslope of age is a wholly unpleasant experience.
although i assure you i am not so vain as to suffer one wrinkle, one scar, for more than a moment, i do attest that it is a truth which, once discovered, cannot be unlearned. mortality. deterioration. atrophy. growing old.
typical thursday
S T O P snowing
i usually get excited about anything falling from the sky. rain, hail, snow, meteors, most days i appreciate all of it. the problem is - i’m a bad driver. i’ve gotten used to saying this outloud. i’m good at other things. but i can be somewhat of a nightmare behind the wheel. one look at my poor and loyal car and it’s very clear. throw a bunch of snow under the wheels and i’m running about a 1 in 3 chance of crashing into something or getting stuck. i need to go places. i have things to do. so, please. please bring on the spring.
country boys
i’ve been watching a pbs special called Country Boys. a camera crew followed two teenage boys from eastern kentucky around for three years. the result is a nearly too close look at rural appalachia, chock full of y’alls and dag’gons, sweetened with that southern drawl we city folk only get to hear on that there teevee. i got to watch them wrassle a five hundred pound pig out from the old trailor so they could move in the new trailor. “i’ll be damned, dag’gon pig got drunk ‘fore i did.” they even did a reenactment of the crucifixion with a real man on a cross. so worth the time spent on the couch. check it out here: http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/pages/frontline/countryboys/
one of my favorite true stories…
I was running late as I hurried to the bus stop and got there just in time to step onto the bus, throw my change in the box and slide into the first front-facing seat. I had planned on finishing at least one chapter of my new Sedaris book, but I glanced up as I was digging through my bag to see a man with a fanny pack looking at me, raising his eyebrows as if to say “hellooooow!.” Hoping to avoid any further weirdness at 7:00 in the morning, I kept my eyes out the window, until the man seated next to Fanny Pack answered his cell phone and I instinctively looked over to see who was committing the cardinal offense of speaking on the bus in the morning, and on my way to the phone-man, my eyes caught, again, Fanny Pack speaking his dirty eyebrow language. This time, however, I convinced myself that, what with the fanny pack, this man was probably developmentally disabled or something and merely had an eye tick. Satisfied with that conclusion, I readied myself to switch buses, but before I could pull the cord, Fanny Pack himself indicated that he would like to get off at my stop. I made sure to creep behind him, but when we went to board the next bus, he ushered me ahead of him with a wink and a nod, unmistakeable this time, and smarmy. I knew I should head straight for the back of the bus, but I saw that there were no single seats available and made the fatal decision to sit on the sideways bench, right between two empty seats. Fanny Pack pounced. He settled in next to me and, to my horror, began to sing. For the next ten minutes, F.P. serenaded me with an obviously made up on the spot song I like to call “Make Sweet Love”, as this line was repeated several times, along with such gems as: “I’ll hold you all night, all night long” and “I’ll make you so hot, so hot, girl” and “when I look into your precious eyes, I know I want you in my life forever”. All of this followed by his most primal attempt to lower his voice as much as possible and utter “yeah”.
We’re getting married in July.
Christmas Day, 2005
People are surprising. Good surprises and bad; because people don’t react to circumstances in the same way we would, the unexpected becomes the only thing to expect. In the end, we are alone in our interpretation of the world, and thus reality is fluid. Our function in it is only to temporarily effect the existence of others, and to survive it ourselves. We are all stumbling babies until the day we die.