I'm so damn funny it hurts.

Wanna see me on New Year's Eve after 4 beers? I know you do... go on, take a peek.

The beginning of the end

New Year's Eve plans? Impossible to make any because my friends are punkass bitches with zero ability to think beyond five minutes from now. Did I just type that out loud? Hmm.

Tonight is yet another traditionally couples oriented celebration and as I'm not in one, I'm boycotting. I may well go out and get fired up. I may well go to one of the parties I was invited to attend. I may even blow noise makers and participate in a champagne toast. But I refuse to participate in the midnight make-out with whoever happens to be standing next to me just because of some stupid tradition. Unless the person standing next to me happens to be Rupert Everett and he's turned straight for the evening or Orlando Bloom dressed as Legolas from Lord of the Rings decides to stop by or Jason Lee has left his wife and shows up just to make out with me. I may even break my boycott for Jeremy Piven or Brandon Boyd from Incubus or Colin Farrell or Joseph Fiennes. But that's it. Well, I suppose if one of the guys I'm already friends with made a move....wait, no, that's just wrong. I'm only making boycott exceptions for rock stars or actors. Yeah.

Kicking themselves right in the ass

I never thought I'd say this but I really like my job. *gasp* I know, it's scary. But when people tell you all day how great you are, it's hard not to like it. Even the residents have been commenting to the other people I work with how much they like me and how pleasant it's been having me help them (I work in the leasing office of a three tower apartment complex). And today, I got to spend some time talking to the manager and she, along with the rest of the staff, wishes she could hire me and hadn't been so quick to hire the other girl. Although I know there's no permanent job waiting for me at the end of the assignment, at least I know I'm going to leave with an awesome recommendation. Go me!

They really really like me!

The people at the office I've been temping at for the last two weeks love me. In fact, they want their boss to tell the chick she hired that they already have someone else and then just keep me. Yeahhh. Too bad it doesn't really work that way.

Karaoke for dummies

We went to this bar over on Burnside called the Stardust last night and I loved it. I've never seen people so fired up about karaoke before. Some goth dude did Nights in White Satin and by the end of hte song he was thrashing around on the floor like a rockstar....I didn't even know you could take that song to that level! Anyhoo, just as I was getting to the point of full-on karaoke preparedness (that's three sheets to the wind), we had to go. *sigh* Ah well, I'll bust out Fiona Apple's Criminal next time...

Back to the grind

There's just something about temping that chaps my hide. The fact that people assume you're an idiot because you haven't been adequately trained to answer their seemingly simple questions is probably the worst part for me. I'm a smart girl and I learn things quick if given the chance, so when people look at me like I'm something they just wiped off the bottom of their shoe when I say I don't have the answer to their question, but I'd be happy to find out, it's a little annoying. Being the receptionist means always being cheery and basically playing hostess for the office. I can do that if the people who come in aren't being assholes. I guess what I'm saying is this: grumpy people suck.

Thank gawd I spent all all those years studying acting....

*sleigh bells and mistletoe*

Spending the day thinking of all the people I can't be with but would love to see....

My sister Brandy
Owen, Sam and Matt
Chris, Sean and the Boot posse
Jen in LA
Koji in San Fran
The folks at The Pub
The boys in the band
The girls from SHMC and ONS
My relatives, wherever they may be

I have all of you in my head and heart and send you hugs wherever you're spending your holiday. Peace and booty grease!

It's Christmas Eve...do you know where your beer is?

I am shocked at how easy shopping was today. Got a parking space right in front of the doors at the mall, didn't have to wait in line at Hickory Farms or the calendar kiosk or Bath and Body Works, didn't have to deal with any traffic, found Lindemans raspberry ale for cheap at Cost Plus Marketplace and the pie was ready an hour early. What the crap? Not that I'm complaining, but what the crap? I thought Christmas eve was supposed to be the most heinous shopping day of the year and it turned out to be quite pleasant, actually. Came home and cracked open the bottle of wine I picked up and now I'm gonna make chocolate chip cookies. Just goes to show that low expectations make for pleasant surprises...

Howdy from Eugene!

Yup, I'm home for the holidays and sleeping in my mom's red, white and blue craft room in the smallest bed known to man. I never knew daybeds were so shrimpy. I must just be used to my full size bed and being able to stretch out. It's only for tonight and tomorrow so I guess I'll live. My grandmother is here as well and she's in the pink room with the full sleigh bed and all the family photos... I dunno what's worse, sleeping in the midget bed or waking up to old pictures of me from the 80's? *cringe*

The best Christmas movie ever

There were so many people at the party last night that I hadn't seen in years. It was great to catch up and nice to know that no matter how long some of us go without seeing each other, the friendships are solid enough that we fall right back into the old comfort zones. Since some of the old college gang are in town for the holidays, someone suggested going to the Laurelhurst Theater tonight to see A Christmas Story. Hell yeah! That movie is a classic... and since we all have a little dysfunction in our families, we love it. I think everyone going has seen it at least ten times, so if we should happen to get a little rowdy (what with the beer flowing freely in the theater), forgive us if we start yelling the dialog at the screen.

It's Saturday! Woot woooo! ickyickyicky

Yeah, I've been listening to Ludacris. So, sue me. I also got a haircut. You got a problem with that? Yeah, I didn't think so. Pssh. You think you're all badass coming in here with your, "What the hell is that?" but you aren't so tough. For all your smack-talkin', you're just a little punkass wannabe. So, back off, yo.

...What?

Hooray for Friday!

I'd forgotten how cool Fridays are since I haven't been working, but since I temped all week, I can't even begin to explain how stoked I am that the weekend is here. Heading out to see Dr. Theopolis again tonight and have a beer or three. There's a party tomorrow night that should get pretty out of control, so I can't over do it tonight. Two nights in a row just doesn't work for me anymore...

Oh yeah, if you're interested in contributing to the other blog I mentioned (and found the whole "in your pants" thing funnier than hell), shoot me an e-mail and let me know... the more the merrier.

New Blog

I'm starting a second blog, but who knows if it'll go anywhere. If it takes off, I'll link to it here....

And now for my stolen song of the day:

Workin' at a temp job,
Goin' down downtown
Workin' at a temp job,
Whoop about to break dooowwn....

C'mon and take a free ride

The bus was so full this morning that the four people at my stop all had to get on through the backdoor. What does that mean? Free rides for everyone! Woo! Add to that a fairly slow day at work (good thing since two people were out sick and I'm still learning), an interview at Owen's office that seemed to go well and a nice, chatty bus driver on the way home. Excellent. If I could guess why my day went so well, I'd have to give credit to the conversation last night. Nothing like laughing hysterically to get me in a good mood. Oh, and the thought of adding "in your pants" to my phone greeting: "Hey, this is Tiffany...I can't come to the phone right now so leave a message in your pants and I'll get back to you much sooner than normal. Thanks!"

Go on, try it

I spent this evening chatting with some old friends on Yahoo and as it got later, things just got goofy. I suggested that everyone add "in your pants" to the end of everything they said from that point on and I swear I almost peed myself laughing. And now that I've just shared that, I'm going shamefully to bed. Thankyouandgoodnight.

Grumble, grumble

First, I wrote up this long post on Sunday and just as I was finishing the proofreading portion of the program, the pc froze up and ate my post. Damn. So, I was a little disgruntled and avoided the keyboard until today.

I start a temp job tomorrow (well, actually today) that runs through the rest of the week and potentially through the end of the year. Yay me. Also, Owen came and picked up my resume to take to his office because there's an admin position opening up and they want the people who already work there to recommend people they know. I told him to tell them they'd love me, so he's gonna talk me up and we'll see what happens. I'm also applying for a job at Metro (includes the convention center, the performing arts center and the expo center) working as an admin asst for the Portland Center for the Performing Arts. I had to answer three supplimental question on a separate sheet so I felt like I was writing an essay about why they should hire me. I hate those. Or maybe I just hate the idea of pimping myself.

Heading down to Eugene for Christmas next week and the 'rents are getting my favorite Dutch apple pie from Metropol Bakery. Aw yeah.... my folks rock!! Still haven't made solid plans for New Year's, though I'm supposed to go to the Jeffersons show at the Tonic that night. The question remains with whom? Why do I even care if I have a date for New Year's? It's not like I ever have before... *light bulb* Damn that frickin' When Harry Met Sally!!

Feelin' Funky

There's a Dr. Theopolis show tonight at the Tonic Lounge so it's time to fire it up. I need a nap first, though. Gawd, I'm sad...

Anyhoo, I was talking to my friend Greg about this and that and mentioned I'd met one of the people who reads my blog the other day. He said he's never met any of his readers (that he didn't already know). Huh. He said if he ever did, he'd write about the meeting in his blog. I'm not sure why, as I don't have anything bad to say, but somehow the idea of rehashing the meeting here seems .... weird. Partly because I know he reads this and partly because I'm not sure what to say anyway. I didn't really know what to expect (other than a smart-ass in a green jacket), so when a cute guy sat down at the table across from me, I turned into rambling weinie girl. Guh. Seeing as that was the case, who'd want to read about that anyway, right? Right.

I saw J. yesterday on the street and we talked for a few minutes. He asked where I'd been since I haven't been around lately and I didn't have the heart to tell him I've been intentionally avoiding him. Also, I started getting that awkward anxiety feeling again and didn't know how to act. So, I avoided the question and asked what he'd been up to and how it was going with the girl he'd been seeing from Eugene. Apparently, he hasn't seen her since October and it isn't going. Huh. Said I wasn't surprised and then changed the subject again to ask about he show tonight. Then I couldn't take it anymore and said I had to go but would probably see him tonight. The way he was looking at me was killing me. .....why is it that, everytime I see that guy, I get that insecure, high school feeling and act like a bumbling idiot?....

Sweet!!!!!

I was cruising through my daily reads and over at Who Woulda Thunk It?, there was a link to this. Oh hell yeah. I read about The Game a few years ago and thought, "If I had a random $25,000, I'd put together a team and do that!" I've always loved scavenger hunts and Urban Challenge sounds like it'd be a blast.

Entertainment

So, I have a ton of free time, which means I'm constantly looking for ways to entertain myself. I went to Conan's last night to see Mark's band Wyatt Herb last night and that was.... ok, there's not a word readily available in my vocabulary to describe it. It's four guys in cowboy hats playing pseudo-reggae with Mark singing (?) and playing the lap-steel with tex-mex sound effects. I was amused, to say the least.

I've spent a fair amount of time with my head down over a box of beads since I moved up here, so I have a bunch of new jewelry to show for it. I need to take pictures of that stuff and see if I can sell it on E-bay or something. Or maybe I should go into some of the little local boutiques and see if anyone is interested in either buying it outright or a consignment deal. Something...

Oh yeah... I had the weirdest dream last night. I was sitting at the edge of a swimming pool and looking over the side into the water at the cut-out where the filter is. There was a little brown baby duck, half alive, just laying there sort of struggling. I reached down, picked it up, dried it off and set it down next to me. It seemed fine, so I looked over the edge of the pool again and down at the bottom, there were about 5 or 6 eggs starting to hatch. I dove in and swam to the bottom to get them all and some of them had come out of their shells so I hurried to get them all to the surface and dry them off. Once I dried them all off and made sure they were ok, I woke up. My dad gave me a dream dictionary last weekend and it says that baby animals in dreams signify a desire for children. Interesting, but I think that book is full of crap.

Como se dice "moron" en Espanol?

I have no job. My cousins with the new Cuban restaurant have been looking for another bartender and server. I went to bartending school a few years ago. My cousins didn't know that. The positions were both filled about a week ago. I didn't know until two days ago they needed people because I've been looking at the clerical/admin ads in the paper, not restaurant ads. I'm going to have to kick my own ass now.

Open, damn you!!

Why is the library closed on Monday? I don't get it. People need information on Monday the same as all the other days of the week. Are librarians anti-Monday or something? It not like the books and computers need a break or anything... they like dispersing knowledge! It's their job! The people need the knowledge, dammit! And what about those unfortunate individuals who rely on the measly hour a day internet access the library provides? What are they supposed to do on Mondays? It's not like the internet stops for Monday...e-mail still needs to be sent, weblogs still need to be updated, online comics still need to be read.... The library is just encouraging the universal hatred for Mondays and I, for one, am not buying into it. I'm just going to start hating the library. It's not Monday's fault the damn building is closed...

Perspective

After breakfast this morning, my folks and I went over to Vancouver to see my great aunt Rosie and uncle Don. Aunt Rosie has cancer and hemochromatosis and isn't doing so hot. Her son Robert had spoken to my dad and said the doctors weren't thinking she'd be around for Christmas, so my folks wanted to go see her while they were up here and asked me to go with them.

This is the third person in my family I've seen just before they die of cancer. When my gramps died three years ago, I'd seen him just a week before and he didn't look like himself. I saw my great uncle John (one of aunt Rosie's brothers) about a month or so before he died and he didn't look like himself either. Today, aunt Rosie was a shadow of the woman I saw a few months ago at my grandmother's birthday party. All three of them were painfully thin from the chemo and hollow sounding from being dehydrated. But the thing that sticks with me aside from the physical similarities is what they said: "Next time you see me, I'll be out of this bed and running around." (uncle John) "I never have seen your house in Eugene. When I'm feeling better, I'll have to come down for a visit." (aunt Rosie) "Aw, g'won...I can get it myself. I'm fine." (gramps)

I'm not sure where the courage comes from to keep fighting in the face of death the way they all did/do, but I hope it's hereditary.

How'd they do that?

My folks noticed the 10 lbs. They took me to lunch and dinner and they're picking me up at 10 tomorrow for breakfast. Geez...

Send in the troops

I called my folks a few days ago to give them the lowdown on my current situation and to let them know that I would not be coming down to visit this weekend, but would definitely be there for Christmas. My mom called me yesterday and said they're coming up on Saturday, spending the night at a hotel somewhere and taking me out to eat. She mentioned I'd left some clothes for Goodwill with them before I moved up here and she sold some of them to a resale place and got $20 for me. Also, they want to take me grocery shopping while they're here and she's bringing me a macaroni quiche. She wanted to know if there was anything else I'd like her to make and bring up for me. From the sound of things, my parents are under the impression that I'm soon to be homeless, starving and living in a van down by the river.

I dunno what it is with parents thinking their adult kids aren't eating. That used to be one of the first questions my mom asked me when I'd call her from college, "How's the food? Are you getting enough to eat? Can we send you anything?," and it always made me wonder where she got the idea that her kid was suffering from an eating disorder. If anything, I could previously have been accused of eating more than my share. Now, I eat when I'm hungry, try to be sensible about what I consume and make a conscious effort not to overeat. But I'm certainly not starving myself. However, I decided not to mention that I've lost 10 lbs since I started feeling sick.

The last part of the conversation included a reminder that, while they know it's not something I'd want to do, I can always come back home and live with them. At that point, of course, I started crying and said I knew and I had to go. I should mention that while this conversation was going on, Owen was sitting at my house, had already heard my story and said there was an empty room in the basement of his house I could move into if I wanted when I found a job. While we've talked about living together on several occasions over the last 10 years, this is the first time it could actually be a reality. I'm still not sure how I feel about that, but we'll see what happens... I should also mention that the moving home comment prompted me to submit applications for 7 different positions at OHSU today. That's right, 7. And now we wait.

Getting desperate

I should have guessed this would happen. But I walk around blind half the time and just plain oblivious the other half. The talk of getting a bigger place has been permanently scrapped because it would be too much of a hassle, but this place is too small for all three of us to stay. As I'm the odd man, I'm out. What that means is, as soon as I find a job, I need to find a new place to live. *sigh* I'm going to go back to crying now...

Playing with my brain

I was going to just hit the sack early tonight and read a little before I fell asleep, but when the roomies ask me to play Trivial Pursuit, I can't say no. They have the millenium edition, so the questions mostly have to do with the last 20-30 years (read: stuff I should know). We each have categories that we really do well in and others that we're really clueless about, but Ryan seems to have the most well-rounded knowledge base. Needless to say, he won tonight and I had only acquired 3 out of the 6 pie pieces. Ah well. It's become obvious to me that I need to brush up on sports trivia, politics and history and I know way more than anyone really needs to about art and literature, science and nature, and entertainment trivia. If ever there's a Jeopardy pop culture tournament, I'm so there...

Oh yeah, I'm interviewing with Office Team tomorrow at 10:30. This will be the 5th temp agency I sign on with and I'm wondering now why I didn't go to them first. I worked for them right after I got out of college and never went more than a week without work. All of the jobs I took were long term assignments that went anywhere from three months to a year and a half. And they still have my work records on file at the office in Eugene to send up here to the Portland branch office. I'm kicking myself for not thinking of them sooner...

Ha! The results are in!

You are the playful pin-up! Do you know how to be serious? What Type Of Retro Gal Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

I've still got it

Cabin fever had set in and I had to get out of the house today. So I went downtown to the library and then window shopped for a bit. Amazing how a walk in the cold will suck away all traces of cabin fever and make you want nothing more than to snuggle up on the couch in the pajamas you couldn't wait to get out of 3 hours earlier. Anyway, I walked over to the bus stop on 5th and Yamhill and I saw this little boy standing there with his mom. He must have been about 4 or 5 and he was a real cutie pie. He kept looking over at me and then whispering to his mom and giggling. She finally said, "I'm sure she's already got a boyfriend or she's married." The boy looked at me and I shrugged my shoulders and shook my head no. His eyes got really big and he whispered something to his mom. She said, "Well, she must already have kids of her own." Again, he looked at me and I shrugged my shoulders and shook my head no. He leaned over, whispered something to his mom and then they went back and forth saying, "You tell her." "No, you." "No, you...go ahead." Finally his mom looks over and smiles, "He wants you to be his girlfriend." We both laughed a little and then I asked him, "Are you sure I'm not too old for you?" He thought about it for a second and said, "No, I don't think you're too old..." and then looked at me expectantly. Mom decides to help him out by saying, "Go ahead and tell her you have a job." He gave her a dirty look and then looked at me, hung his head and said, "I don't really have a job." Turns out he does... he gets two dollars a week for cleaning his room. *L* The kid at the bus stop makes more than I do and wants to be my boyfriend... how do you like that? Gotta love kids...

Taking a new approach

Since I've been actively looking for work for the last 2 1/2 months, but not in fact working, it's come to my attenton that I've been going about this process all wrong. I had another interview this morning and it went just like all the others have seemed to go - well. I smiled and gave a firm hand shake at arrival and departure, nodded and smiled appropriately during the job expectations monologue, answered all of the questions with careful thought and insight... basically, I'm an interviewer's dream candidate. I'm fully, if not at times over, qualified, personable, polite, professional and ready to start today. I pick up new skills with ease, learn names quickly, multi-task like a pro and do it all with a smile. Damn, I'm good! But, I still don't have a job. So, on my way home today, I'm sitting at the back of the #4 bus thinking to myself, "What the hell is your problem??" And then it hit me. The stench of dirty feet, old cigarettes and alcohol breath. Nice. Gotta love the bus. Anyway, I realized that the one thing I haven't been doing in any of these interviews is beg. Now, I've seen this tactic work like a charm when used on a frazzled mom in a mall, a sucker boyfriend at the movies, and even a softie police officer trying to give a ticket. I think begging just might work for me, too.

Begging has several merits. First, it's shows that I'm not too proud to ask for help. Yes, I do have some pride left and it's not like I'm begging for spare change. I want to earn that spare change. Second, it shows my sensitive side. I'm sensitive to rejection and I'm willing to beg to avoid it again. Finally, begging shows a potential employer that I'm willing to go to any lengths to prove how much I want to work for them. Ok, at this point I want to work for anyone, but they don't know that. So, if the job I interviewed for today doesn't come through, I'm gonna try this begging thing out and see how it goes. Not like I have anything to lose, right?

Science vs. The Underworld

While I've been sick for the last 5 or 6 days, I haven't mentioned it because I was in denial. I have this process I follow when I'm sick that entails lots of fruit (vitamin C), lots of water (flush out the system), and lots of denial (mind over body). Once the final stage of a cold sets in, and by cold I mean full on bronchial infection that lays in my chest for what seems like forever sucking away my will to live, the first two parts of the process have done all they can for me and the third part is a physical impossibility. Today is day one of that stage. The "coughing up demons" stage.

We've all been there: spent the last few days taking it easy and getting plenty of rest, gagging down the not-even-remotely-close-to-cherry-flavored NyQuil every 4 to 6 hours, taking hot showers in a feeble attempt at steaming your sinuses clear, digging through the drawers in search of those vitamin C tablets/echinacea drops/lemon herbal tea bags you bought the last time you were sick. And you haven't been feeling all that bad. Mostly just tired and a little sniffly. The worst is usually in the morning after every last bit of liquid in your head has spent the whole night draining into your chest and congealing, but the first few days, you cough a little and nothing happens. So, you think you're starting to feel better. Too bad you're wrong.

About a week into a good serious cold, you wake up in the middle of the night unable to breathe and have a nasty coughing fit. The tossing and turning ensues and you realize that all the denial in the world isn't going to change the fact that something evil has crawled down your throat and taken up residence in your chest. Being the territorial type, this is unacceptable. After spending the last week deep in denial, the reality of your situation comes as quite a shock and your body has a violent physical reaction for the next few days. It's mission? Take back your lungs and eject all trespassers! You thought you were sick and tired last week? Ha. You hadn't even begun to fight...

Strange but true, the variety of demons that look for empty chest cavities to live in are the quiet middle-aged sort. They mostly keep to themselves, read Nietzche, listen to Wagner and mind their own business. They don't like alcohol, loud noise or bathing and they especially hate karaoke. Knowing all of this is crucial if you want them to move on in a timely fashion. So, the plan should go as follows:

1. Keep taking the NyQuil. There's enough alcohol in that stuff to knock you out, so you can be sure the demons aren't going to be happy.
2. Keep drinking a ton of water. It's not important which exit they use, as long as they leave, right?
3. Finally, throw on The B-52's album, Cosmic Thing and sing along to "Love Shack." I know your voice is really raspy and doesn't actually come out half the time when you're sick, but belt it out as best you can. Between the rattling chest, the noise, and the severe coughing this activity is sure to produce, the demons will take the hint and pack up their things.

As with any major move, it usually takes a few days to get everything out and make sure the place is clean, so don't be surprised if the demons take their time packing up and saying goodbye. This process is especially unpleasant for the people around you and maybe a little embarassing for you (the demons did choose you, after all), so if you can get the moving done when you're alone, that tends to work out best for everyone.

So, I'm off to start the demon relocation process... NyQuil, check. Water, check. B-52's, check. Roomies out for the day, check. Hot shower, here I come.

Oooo, neat-o!

I did a search for freelance writing jobs just for funsies and came across this page. It's still in beta mode (testing, testing...1,2,3), but I signed up anyway. Nothing like getting your name and url out there to keep the dream alive....

'Tis the season to kick ass

Today is the official first day of holiday shopping madness and I'm boycotting. Ok, actually, I just don't have any money to shop with, but even if I did, I would not be shopping today. All the people pushing and shoving their way through department stores and mall food courts has a claustrophobic effect on me and if I had high blood pressure, it'd probably give me a heart attack. I still have to get out there and shop for Christmas and birthday presents, but it boggles my mind how rude and self-absorbed people become at this time of the year... so, in an effort to change that (at least among the people I come in contact with), I'm starting a smile campaign. I read somewhere that the act of smiling causes your brain to release seratonin, the chemical that regulates your moods. If you're in a good mood, smiling makes you feel even better. If you're in a bad mood, even just trying to smile lifts the cloud a little. Since the normal response to someone smiling at you is to smile back (regardless of your mood), I'm going to make an effort to smile more at random grumpy shoppers. Then they'll smile and other people will see that and then they'll smile and so on and so forth. Call me self-serving, but if everyone will just smile more and be more considerate of the folks around you, maybe I can get my shopping done without wanting to hurt anyone this year...

More notes to self

The last groove train home from downtown leaves promptly at 12:32am from 5th and Main. Don't freak out if you miss it though because there's a different one that leaves 10 minutes later and gets you just as close to your house so you won't have to sleep at a bus stop. *whew*

Your ass isn't really big. You just have wide hips and a small waist. There's a difference.

Kell's is the place to go on Thanksgiving Eve.

Your Eugene friends are goofy. Don't let them fade away.

Metropolis may have $1 drinks, but it's not the place to go on Thanksgiving Eve.

Riding the groove train

I loaded the cd player with Abandoned Pools, Mad At Gravity, and Heather Nova and I'm wondering where the boys from Eugene are. I figured they'd be here by now. Huh. Wait, the phone is ringing....that's Chris. Ooo, creepy.

Ok, so the plan is to meet downtown and hit a bar or two. There's potential for dancing. Oi. The challenge will be to see how far I can ride the groove train on about 10 bucks... have I mentioned I need a job?

Notes to self

Call your sister. Again. But don't expect her to answer the phone. Just leave another message.

Pick up wine for Thanksgiving.

Find a date for New Years.

When you have a head cold, avoid milk in any form at all costs.

No, those pants don't make your ass look big; your ass makes your ass look big.

If someone comes along and offers to pay you to blog all day, don't cry until they've given you your first paycheck and even then, wait until you're alone.

Why me?

Ok, so Sigur Ros was friggin' amazing. It's super emotionally charged music and I sat there in awe the whole time. I'm so glad I got to go. Not so glad he tried to kiss me goodnight though (he got the cheek). I'm still trying to get to know him as a person but I don't see that there's any chemistry between us and we only just met four days ago anyway... can you hear the squealing brakes?

Went to the temp job today only to wait in the lobby for 1/2 an hour, move file folders for ten minutes, file for an hour and 1/2, make copies for almost 6 hours and then get told they weren't expecting me and weren't prepared with stuff for me to do, so they'd call the temp agency and let them know when they wanted me to come back and not to show up tomorrow. Oh. My. Gawd. Not cool. If they call and tell me to come in tomorrow, I'm gonna be pissed. I'll go, but I won't like it. Damn temping...

And now, all the way from Iceland...

So, check it out.... Dave the "I Saw You" guy called me last night and asked me to go see Sigur Ros with him tonight. Cool beans. Pretty much every music store in town is advertising their new album, which incidentally has no title and none of the tracks have names either, so I'm hoping it'll be a pretty good show. He said a bunch of people from work are going without having heard them just based on what other folks have said about how cool the band is. Huh.

I just found out today that I've got a temp assignment starting tomorrow at 8am, which means getting up at 6am, that runs the rest of this week and all of next. Guh. Not working has spoiled me with sleeping in until 8 or 9 but hasn't done much for my bank account, so it's time to take one for the team and quit being a lazy ass. Sleep is good but, at this point, money is better.

Home Alone 4: Nina's Revenge

As of yesterday, it's just me and the cat until Tuesday. The roomies have hopped in their rented Mustang and headed east to Boise to visit Shauna's family out there. I was going to go to Eugene, but I felt like crap and the cat missed the litter box the other day so I wouldn't have wanted to come home to that. One might think that having the whole place to myself for four days would mean inviting the gang over for cocktails and strippers, but I wisely chose to spend yesterday in bed eating Chinese food and ice cream and watching movies (Trainspotting, Deuces Wild and the home movie from New Year's 1994/5). Then I slept in today and walked from my room to the bathroom and back in just my underwear. I even went all the way out into the kitchen and fed the cat like that. Somehow, having the cat see me half naked was unsettling (he cocked his head to the side, gave me a weird cat look, meowed and then started rubbing on my leg), so I got dressed while he was distracted by the full food dish. My only plan for the rest of today is heading out to Old Navy to see if I can find some pants and the folks who came up with the idea to put the American Idol rejects in their latest commercial so I can bitch slap them. Tomorrow, I have an interview at 9:30 and then a whole lot of nothing planned because I'm sure I'll need to rest after all that bitch slapping...

Oh yeah, I went to the Clinton St. Pub with Dave the "I Saw You" guy and had a good time. Cool...new friend for me!

It's story time

Once there was this girl who spent a lot of time going to interviews and applying for jobs. She was unemployed, so it seemed like the right thing to do. As time went on, she got more and more disillusioned with the job market and corporate America. She started plotting to take over a small country and turn it into an artist's colony where no one ever had to look for a job again and she and all of her friends could go there and write and paint and do anything but look for a job. Then, one day when she was reading the "I Saw You" section of the Weekly, she came across an ad that she thought was for her. She'd never answered an ad before and thought it probably wasn't really for her anyway, but what the hell. So she called the number and left a message and waited. The next day, the guy who placed the ad called her and after talking for a few minutes, they established that it wasn't her after all. They ended up talking for over an hour anyway and he asked if she wanted to meet up just because. So she decided to meet him. The end. For now.

That's more like it

Had yet another interview today... they asked me back for a second interview tomorrow and the position pays $13+/hr with benefits. I aced all four of their preliminary tests (Windows, medical terminology, math skills, essay questions) and did better than they require for typing speed. So if I'm not in like flynn, I'm gonna kick someone. For real. And then I'll go to the other interview I have scheduled on Monday. *sigh*

You want to pay me how much?

I got an e-mail from one of the places I interviewed with last week and they wanted to see if I was still interested after letting me know the position started at $9.25/hr. Say whaaa??? I was making over $12 in BFE (that's Bum Fuck Eugene, fyi) and I know damn well my skill set and experience are worth at least that. $9.25??? Guh. I knew I'd probably have to swallow my pride and take an entry level job when I moved up here, in part because I got fired and in part because the job market bites the big one. I've even set $10/hr + benefits as the lowest I'm willing to go. A girl's gotta pay her bills, right? So I let them know I couldn't afford to work for less than $10 and to let me know if they could work that out.

Then this morning, some recruiter from Boston calls and says he saw my resume on Monster and wanted to know if I was interested in working as a clinical researcher for the company's Portland office out at PDX. Well sure I am if you'll give me a car to drive so my commute is only 1/2 hour each way instead of the almost 2 hours it would take me to get out there on the bus/MAX. Damn guy. He didn't even have an accent.

I so don't want to work in the medical field anymore. It's friggin' depressing. And, I admit, I've been soured by the whole firing thing. So, if someone would like to pay me to blog or something, let me know.

Damn, that's some funny shit

If you don't already check in periodically, go check out Greg's page and learn the truth about the world.

It's Tuesday and I still don't have a j-o-b. Why, God, why??

Shauna is coming back from Austin tonight, so that's good. My parents won't be back from California until the 30th, so that's bad. When I get home, the dishes in the dishwasher will be clean, so that's just fine.

It's days like today when I secretly wish for someone to check me out in the library.

I should probably go down to Eugene again on Saturday for Nick's going away party because I know Chris is going to bug me about it (read: me: "I can't come down again." chris: "why? why? why? why infinity?" me: ".....*shrug*.....").

The city put up the big Christmas tree in the middle of Pioneer Square yesterday while I was watching the new Harry Potter movie. The official lighting will be on Nov. 29th at 5:30pm and since the guys will still be in town that day, we should go see it.

I'm wearing my "charm school reject" t-shirt and I think that must be why no one is flirting with me in the library today.

Never assume anything

I should know better by now than to expect an early night if Chris is involved. For example, before I left for Portland, we went out and he said it would have to be an early night because he had to be up early the next day. We were still at Rennie's for last call. Then last night he says on the phone that the guys were going over the the Vet's Club and he didn't expect things to go too late or get too liquored up. Again, it was past last call when we left the third bar we went to and all I have to say about getting liquored up is....brownies. I guess you had to be there, though...

Hello? Anyone?

So, I was invited to come down here to Eugene and hang out with Becca, but I can't get a hold of her. What's up with that? Anyway, it looks like I'm headed over to the Vet's Club for a bit to hang with Chris and the gang and then to Diablo's to meet up with Heath around 10ish. I have a strange feeling it'll turn out to be an early night...

It's weird to be at my folks' house without them here. However, even in their absence, they do have cable, which means 24-7 Game Show Network. Can't get enough of the old episodes of Press Your Luck.... "No whammy...no whammy.... STOP! Nooooooo!!!" * then the cartoon whammy comes out and takes all of the money in your bank and does a little dance or mows the lawn or flies off in a superman cape* Most likely, though, I won't come down when they aren't here again.

Anyone want to interview me?

I've had three interviews this week. I'm actually wearing a business suit right this very minute. Oh my gawd. I had lunch with Owen today and he said I looked all corporate and stuff...and then he said I looked cute. Ugh. I've gotta get out of this thing. I have a pair of lovingly worn jeans, a long sleeved t-shirt and a short sleeved t-shirt that says "dweeb" to wear over it waiting at home... ahh, comfy clothes. If all of this conforming I've been doing all week doesn't pay off with a job, I very well may go postal.

Enjoying the lull

I have been jonesing to write for the last three days, but between playing Xbox, running around in the mall, chatting with strangers, going to dinner, the movies and hanging out at the Ohm, I haven't had time for anything else. I had a job interview on Monday at an ad agency and I'm hoping against hope that they call me back. They got over 200 resumes and only did 10 interviews (one of which was with me), so that made me feel good even if they don't.

In music news, Dr. Theopolis is playing at a strip club tomorrow night. To go or not to go, that is the question. Why they took this gig, I'll never know, but I'm sort of curious to see how many of the girls the band knows will actually turn up at this show. I don't have a problem with strip clubs, but I don't understand the motivation to diversify into a live music venue. I mean, really..."Sorry, dudes, I was trying to pay attention to the band, but I kept getting distracted by the naked chicks."

And now on to the emotional portion of the program... J. came into the cafe where we were having lunch and looked right through me. I'm proud to say I've finally learned how to turn invisible! I'm sure this talent will come in handy next time I need to avoid someone. However, I'm going to have to work on the whole being blatantly visible thing....

Come on down

I think a friend from Seattle is coming down tomorrow to stay for a night or two. We haven't seen each other since I was in NYC, where he was previously living, three years ago. Should be a good time and since he's never been to Portland, I get to play tour guide again. I love it! I've also been invited to go down to Eugene next weekend to hang out with Becca and Heath so I may drop in for a night and see what's shakin'. Guess he's been going through some rough times and she thinks a visit from me would maybe do him some good (or just get his mind off of his troubles for awhile). If I head down Saturday day, I can surprise him at work and maybe cheer him up a little. If I wasn't convinced that he has to work, I'd invite them up here just to get them out of town for a break from the drama. Anyway, it'll be good both to have a visitor and to be one... makes for interesting stories to tell later...

Holy crap has left the building

It's a sad sad day. Ezra, Craig and the rest of the Holy Crap crew have packed up their thoughts and closed their doors. One can only hope that each will find a new home and that the creativity will continue to flow. You will be missed...

Taking candy from strangers...or something like that

Hey, guess what I'm listening to right now?

A Modest Mouse album from Koji!!! YEAH!!! This calls for a special thank you... details later...

For now, Koji, you are the coolest. *hugs and smooches*

There's more where that came from

I'm reading this book I picked up at Powell's the other day call Pretty Vs. Smart by Valerie Frankel and it's got me thinking about my sister. The story revolves around two sisters who run a small coffee shop together and are trying to compete with the Moonstruck (read: Starbucks) that moved in just down the street. The older sister is "the smart one" and the younger sister is "the pretty one." As the story progresses, you come to understand a mutual jealousy over the labels... which I've found to be the norm since bearing one label is somehow indicative of lacking the quality the other possesses. Circumstances and setting aside, the relationship is my sister's and mine to a tee. I overheard so many times during my childhood at parent-teacher conferences, school plays, etc., "Mrs. Krell, your daughter Tiffany is such a bright, gifted child. It's a pleasure to have her in my class." I also overheard family and friends telling my folks, "Brandy is so cute! She's going to be a little heartbreaker when she grows up." In high school, I had my nose in a book more often than not and when I was being social, it was with the student council or the AP English class for a project or the thespian society doing behind-the-scenes work for the next school play. My sister was a cheerleader. 'Nuff said. She's been engaged once and lived with her finacee until she broke it off. She's dated some of the guys she works with on the Disney cruise and has never seemed to have a lack of admirers interested in taking her out. I, on the other hand... well, if you've read back a few entries, you already know I'm lacking in the romance department.

Near the end of college, I had moved back in with my family and had let my sister read my journal. That was the catalyst for a long overdue conversation about the labels and how we both to some degree felt it and tried to break out of the stereotype. She told me she felt she had to compete with me for grades (though we were almost 4 years apart and I was away at college while she was in high school) and always pushed herself to do better than I did...to compete with "the smart one." I was always trying to fit in by getting involved in theater and begging for the same clothes my friends wore and...well, competing with "the pretty one." She thought I hated her and I thought she was embarrassed to be seen with me. Funny how that works, huh?

Our relationship now as adults is pretty good, I think. We're supportive of each other and have genuine interest in each other's life. She isn't around much because she lives and works on the other side of the country and I'm sorry for the distance as I know we have much more in common now than we did as kids. I'm sure if we lived closer, we'd be shopping buddies and hang out at clubs or coffee shops together. As it is, we don't talk that often and her visits are getting fewer and further between.

Anyway, check out the book. It's a quick read and it's entertaining...

Allow myself to introduce....myself

I have another interview on Monday that I'm actually looking forward to this time. It's at an ad agency and the woman on the phone today said she was interested in finding someone who was willing to start at entry level as a receptionist, but was also wanting that person to transition into a project tracking position (bye-bye entry level, hello cool job in an ad firm with more $$) over the next six months. From my resume and the brief chat on the phone, I appear to be a good candidate and she'd like to meet me. Well alrighty then. I'm crossing my fingers for that one.

In other news, my father's mother sent me a little card and a check for $75, which I received today. I have some mixed feelings about that and I can tell this is going to turn into a longer post than I'd intended. Anyway, I spent the majority of my childhood dreading the annual visits to her house. Since my grandfather died when I was 1 1/2, I never knew him and I've always been a little sad about that. We share the same birthday and I've always been curious about him but have gotten very little information from my grandmother. Whenever I'd ask her about him, she'd say she didn't want to talk about it or to wait until another time. Another time never came.

Since she's lived alone in that big 5 bedroom house for as long as I can remember, she's used to having everything just so and all of her time to herself. She would keep busy with a bridge club and volunteer work and gardening, etc., but one would think that her grandchildren coming for a visit would warrant a little flexibility in her schedule. Not so. I remember one visit when it was just my sister and I staying with her and her bridge friends were coming over to play for the day. Instead of introducing us to the ladies and letting us hang around in the backyard or upstairs or something, she gave us some money, dropped us off in town and told us to walk back a few hours later. I think I was 11 and my sister was 7.

A few years later (I was 14 or 15), our family had come to visit and go to my dad's youngest sister's wedding. My dad has four sisters and he's the oldest and only boy, so he'd been asked to give the bride away. At the time, everyone in my family except my sister, who as a child was a little elvish wisp of a girl, was a bit.....round. We look back on the wedding pictures and we're all appalled by our appearance. My folks weren't exercising like they do now and were carrying some extra weight. I was at that age where things are filling out and the baby fat is still hanging on and the last thing you want is someone looking at you and drawing attention to it. I've never been a petite girl anyway, but I'd spent a lot of time in school being picked on for various reasons, not least of which was my height and weight. So, the day before the wedding, the whole family was at my grandmother's house for a barbeque in the afternoon before the rehersal dinner. My cousins, my sister and I were all in the kitchen getting a piece of strawberry shortcake for dessert. I remember this very clearly because my aunt Kathy went off on my grandmother later for what she said to me: "Now Tiffy dear, you don't need any of that. We need to be watching our girlish figure." That day directly affected the way I perceived myself all through the rest of high school and college. She'd singled me out in front of my sister and cousins and the other people in the dining room as unattractive and I was horrified. She didn't even realize how what she said affected me and didn't seem to care one way or the other. I was easily pushed to tears in those days, but for some reason I held them back and just walked out of the kitchen. A little later, my aunt Kathy came over and took me aside and told me she's spent her whole life hearing comments like that from her mother and hearing her say what she'd said to me was the last straw. She laid into my grandmother about making her feel ugly as a child and said she didn't ever want to hear her say anything like that to me again. Later that night, my grandmother gave me some money and thanked me for watching the younger cousins and being a good example. Never was there an apology offered or requested.

Throughout my life, I received birthday cards with money in them from her and the same deal at Christmas. Very little interest was taken in what I had to say or was interested in when we'd all go visit, but there was always money being given at the end of each stay. Near the end of college, it was passed through the familial grapevine to me that my grandmother was telling people not to give me money as I would just squander it away. Strangely, the checks kept coming and I've felt for a long time that she's tried to buy my affection with money rather than genuine interest or love.

When I opened the card today, I was expecing the note... my dad had let me know she'd asked for my new address and said she wanted to write to me. I wasn't, however, expecting the check. It's not my birthday for another four months and Christmas is still two months off. The note said something about always needing a little extra when you move and to let her know if I got it. So, I wonder now, does she write to my sister? Or my cousins? Why is she suddenly reaching out to me after spending the last 28 years making me feel insignificant? I don't get it. My dad says he thinks she's getting senile and won't be around for too many more years. It's terrible to say, but I don't have any feelings about that one way or the other. She hasn't been a significant presence in my adult life and while I'll feel bad for my father's loss when she's gone, I can't say that I'll miss her. It seems like I should, but the truth is still there that I won't unless something seriously changes in the next few years, but even then, I'm afraid it's too late.

Two steps forward, one step back

I don't know how I did it, but I did. I finally took off the rose-tinted glasses and caught a glimpse of the truth. And I'm over him. Thought about it briefly last weekend but it finally hit me last night. I didn't see him or talk to him or anything like that. While I was cruising around someone's web page, it just struck me that I was done and it didn't hurt anymore. And though it came as sort of a relief, there was still that residual empty feeling that inevitably follows the death of an emotional tie. The empty feeling doesn't hurt like the rejection or the betrayal, but it's definitely not a pleasant feeling. The empty feeling eats at you for a little while then waits to be filled by someone else. The empty feeling reminds you that you're alone and that you don't want to be. But, strangely, it doesn't hurt. It's just there. Because the empty feeling reminds you that you survived another blow to the ego and stab to the heart. The empty feeling reminds you that you have more love to give someone else. And the empty feeling reminds you that you're human and are allowed to make mistakes. I'm constanty learning from those mistakes so I can handle the empty feeling for a few days. Anything is better than the hurt...

Welcome back to reality

It's blank. Totally blank. I thought for a minute there was something really good in there waiting to get out, but whatever it was is gone and now it's blank. My mind, that is. I looked at the clock when I turned the laptop on to write and it was 12:53. Now it's 1:23 and I've been staring at the screen and eating a bowl of Mini Shredded Wheat and waiting for something amazing to come pouring out onto the screen, but I've got nothin'. But then, nothin' is what I've done today (aside from going to interviews this morning, but that's boring) and nothin' is on the agenda for later. OK, I might go see Signs at the Bagdad. But that's it. Well, ok, I might go over to Hawthorne and see if I can find a few books I've been wanting to read at Powell's. But I'm really not doing anything else. Hmmm, since I'm going to be over there already, I should stop in at Freddy's and get some milk... and since there's a ton of salad left over from last night, I should get some chicken and Chinese noodles to throw in for tonight. Oh yeah, my dad's birthday is coming up next week and I need to find a present for him. Ooo, I have e-mail to catch up on too. Gawd! I have a ton of stuff I should be doing! What am I thinking sitting here staring blankly at the screen?? Dang, I've gotta go!

I can quit anytime...

Oh my gawd. I bought two more cds today. I couldn't help it! You know those themed compliation displays they have all around Target with the little cover picture buttons you push to hear samples of the albums? *hanging my head in shame* Yep, I bought two. But it's not what you think. Honest. One is called Martini Lounge and it's got some great stuff on it... Tony Bennett, Louis Prima, Mel Torme, Nat King Cole... very hep. The other is 70's R&B and let me just say, I can't get enough of your love, Barry White, and I'll be more than happy to stay together with you, Al Green. Mmm mmm mmm. But I digress. This is getting ridiculous. One day, the cds are going to take over my entire house. Floors...ceilings...every surface will be covered with jewel cases and cover art and I won't be able to tell the "3000 free minutes of AOL" coasters from The Strokes or Beth Orton. I'll just have to catalog the collection by room and location to keep everything straight... "N.E.R.D.? Let me check my book... oh yeah, that's in the second room on the left, far wall, third row down, sixth from the right." I'll start a new trend in interior design concepts. People around the world will start tiling their walls with jewel cases and I'll be famous. So, getting all this new music is a good thing...right? I'm not just trying to make myself feel better about a serious problem that should be dealt with on a professional level...right? I can quit whenever I want...right? Anybody know the number for CD Addicts Anonymous?

CD Junkie

There are a crapload of used cd stores in Portland. This makes me happy. In the last few weeks I've bought the following:

Sneaker Pimps - "Bloodsport"
Amar - "Outside"
Vast - "Music For People"
Juliana Hatfield - "Hey Babe"
The Emo Diaries Vol. 1 & 5
Heather Nova - "Siren"
Jimmy Eat World - "Clarity"
Indie Top 20 compliation
The Matador Records 10th Anniversary Anthology
Coldplay - "A Rush of Blood to the Head"
Another Year on the Streets Vol. 1 & 2
Camber - "Beautiful Charade"
Pretty Girls Make Graves - "Good Health"
Pinback - "Blue Screen Life"

I'm still adding to the list I keep in my bag of new stuff I want (like Modest Mouse, but I can't decide which album to get) and I'm gonna have to get another rack to keep all this stuff organized. Guh. Must....not...give...in.....to.....the temptation..... must...not...buy...more...cds.....

I win, I win!

Woo! I got the decision from the unemployment hearing in the mail yesterday and the original decision was upheld. This means I won't have to live in a box down by the river and I'll keep getting unemployment checks until I find a job. It had been eating at me for the last week or so and now it's done. All's well that ends well, eh?

Chris was here this weekend and it was cool to be able to show him some of the things I love about Portland like the MAX ("...and it's free!"), the Saturday Market (might go back for that spoon mask with the antenna) and Todai ("Irashaimasu! Welcome!"). Jen met us to hang out for mojitos at my cousins' restaurant and gave me a lead on a job fair at Powell's Books. However, I'm apparently TOO cool to work there. ;-) They wouldn't even give me an interview since I have no experience as a cashier in the last two years and the line for applicants was already about 70 people long one hour into the four hour job fair. Can you believe it? I'm not even qualified to be a cashier at a frickin' book store! Damn. So much for thinking I'd be a shoe-in with my pierced tongue, black t-shirt and love of books...

The best plan is no plan

Ok, ok, I didn't stay home last night like I thought I would. When I called O. to see what was going on, he said he was going over to Jody's to help her paint her bedroom. Um. ok. So, I took my roomies up on the offer of going to a small get-together with them (read: crash a party) and we all threw together costumes in about an hour. Ryan was a vampire, Shauna was a futuristic secret agent and I ended up going as a dead prom queen. The three of us went over and picked up Bolton, who went as Charlie Brown complete with ghost costume from the Great Pumpkin, and headed over to his friends' house to read scary stories some of the folks had written for the occasion and recount scary events that had happened to the folks who came without a story to read. Seeing as Shauna and I only really knew the people we came with and had only met the hosts once before about a week or so ago when we all went to a movie and didn't get to talk much, we had a great time. Everyone was friendly and between the stories people wrote (some funny, some scary) and the real experiences people shared, people were adequately creeped out. Seeing how cool that turned out makes me want to put together an event of my own. I know some talented writers and most of them are eager to share their work with the world, so why not give them a venue? Something like that could turn into a regularly scheduled event and encourage us to write more new stuff.

Hello, weinie.

If you haven't seen Punch Drunk Love, go. Right now. It's for your own good.

Well, it's Halloween and I have no plan. That's sort of sad but unless I dress up to give out candy or O. calls me and says, "yeah, fire it up, let's go out...," I think I'm in for a night of scary movies and hanging out with the holy trinity of moi (that's me, myself and I for those of you who are hung-over, stoned, haven't had your coffee or are just slow today). I remember going trick-or-treating and thinking the people who answered the door in a costume were cool... like they still had some little kid left in them that was itching to get out and roam the neighborhood with us. So, since that's definitely true of me, I may get all dolled up like a fairy godmother and give out treats to the little ghouls and goblins that are braving the cold wind we've got going on here. I love seeing the kids anyway, so if O. doesn't come through, I won't be too disappointed. What're you wearing?

It's just that easy

Going to see Punch Drunk Love with Bolton this afternoon. He's a friend of Ryan's who has hung out with us a few times and is a serious movie hound. I've heard nothing but good stuff about the movie, so I'm excited.

Since tomorrow is the 10th anniversary of the day we met, I had this idea that O. and I should recreate the scene from our first Halloween, only with updated costumes, and go do dinner. He was in a grass skirt, had his face painted like a skull and was smoking a cigar. I had on a big pink southern belle dress and my hair in pincurls. Obviously, I don't have the dress anymore and he didn't keep the grass skirt (what was he thinking?) so we'd have to change things up a little, but we'll see if he goes for it. There's a big haunted house set up downtown so maybe we could hit that after dinner..... man, I'm full of good ideas today! Yeah, baby. Fire it up.

Floored

Around 6ish last night, O. called and asked what I was doing for the rest of the evening. A few minutes later the plan was for him to come over and we'd make a plan then. I was a little surprised that he didn't already have plans with his girlfriend Jody, but she had said she was going straight home from work and going to sleep, so he had nothing to do. We went to Than Thao, a little Vietnamese/Thai restaurant over on Hawthorne, and when I said I'd never been there, he looked at me like I'd been living in a cave since 1983. I offered to kick his ass since he was due, we went in, got seated, scanned the menus and ordered. Next thing I know, I'm in The Godfather and he's saying in his best raspy Marlon Brando voice, "So, I've called you here for a reason..." We both laughed, but I could see he actually had something to say so I was a little apprehensive. O. and I have a long and tainted history (it'll be 10 years on Thursday and this is the guy who put me off of men for so long) and we've had our share of emotional blowups that usually stem from trying to define our relationship, which was a sketchy subject several years back. He used to be really bad about dealing with conflict and expressing how he felt and I would get frustrated to the point of tears trying to get him to talk to me. Things have been really good since a long overdue reaming I gave him earlier this year and we're both in a good place about our friendship. So when he said, "No, seriously, I need to say something to you...," I was dreading the next thing to come out of his mouth. Ever the cynic, I assumed it would be bad. Turned out to be an apology for treating me like crap and being a shitty friend for all these years. He said he'd been thinking about how he doesn't call people back right away (sometimes ever) and usually doesn't think twice about it, but with me, he wants to be a better friend and is going to make more of an effort. I didn't really know what to say. He was acknowledging 10 years of taking me for granted and treating me like crap and I just sat there with my mouth open. Somehow, the conversation went back to lighthearted banter, we got our food, ate, boxed up the leftovers and got the check. Coincidentally, his fortune cookie said, "Treat others as you would treat yourself." That had us laughing again and we went back to my house to watch Castaway. As he was leaving to meet Jody at his house, he thanked me for having dinner with him and for the movie and we agreed to keep each other in the plans for Thursday.

I know now what I should have said... He shared a vulnerable moment of personal growth with me and I should have said thank you.

Go Ahead... Fix Me

So, the movie had slipped his mind and he spent the day absorbed by baseball and then football and of course beer with the guys. He wanted to continue hanging out with the guys and I didn't push it so we didn't go. That's all I'm saying about that.

I want you to know I wasn't always like this about men. In fact, I avoided any contact with them on an intimate level for over seven years. I had guy friends but didn't date casually or otherwise that whole time. I've never had a serious relationship that lasted longer than a month and I can count the number of men I've felt comfortable enough to sleep with on one hand with fingers to spare. I've always been the girl who's thought of as one of the guys until this year as far as I know. The men whom I've loved (and I won't say I was "in love" as I believe that state to be a reciprocal one) have all said they loved me as a friend, would be more than happy to sleep with me, but didn't want a serious relationship. I've never understood how those things could go hand in hand. That has got me thinking that 1.) I'm a nice girl, 2.) I'm attractive to my male friends, and 3.) there's something about me that makes men not want to get attached. Ultimately, I think hearing that a few times has turned me into the sad soul I am today. My friends have lately told me that those men are going to kick themselves later when they are old and alone or in relationships with people they weren't friends with first and wish they'd known what they were going to miss out on by letting me get away. That's a nice thought, but I doubt it. I doubt it because I stay friends with them and they still have that part of me I give to each person I love. I'd like to be able to take it back when I've been rejected as friends only material, but I don't have the heart to do that. It appears that I'm a magnet for the emotionally needy/commitment-phobic types. These are the people who are amazing human beings with so much talent it's impossible not to love them, but such low self esteem that they need someone else to be that for them. I've got a knack for building people up and being their support system and I do it because I truly care, however the end result has recently been falling for the person I see under the lack of drive and self worth, which hasn't worked out so well as is evidenced by some of the entries in this blog. So, if anyone has a nice, good guy for me, could you let me know? I'm considering joining a convent again but I'm pretty sure they won't take me and I don't think I can handle the rejection...

One More Thing

For the first time in about a month, I went to the guys' house after the show on Friday night. I had made a point of asking J. what the plan was and since it was Crapper's birthday, I knew folks would be up all night and in a party mood. He'd said come hang out so I was in a pretty good mood despite the new girl J. has been hanging out with when she's in town from Eugene. I'm tired of the song and dance games we've been playing and I just want to have a good, friendly relationship with him, so I'm taking the high road and stepping aside. If he wants to be with some random chick he just met a few weeks ago, then so be it. If you love someone, you set them free or whatever, so that's what I'm doing. It's the right thing to do and it'll make things with J. return to the regularly scheduled program. All I have to do now is stop wanting to kiss him everytime I see him. No problem, right? Um, yeah... right. We made plans Friday night to go see the Jackass movie later today, so that's something. Now if I could only get my mind to shut down for a few hours, it'll all be good.

The People's Court

At 10:45 this morning I was in court. Well, I was in my pajamas in bed on the phone with a judge and my previous employer. Previous employer lady appealed the decision that granted me unemployment benefits and requested a hearing, so I had to go over the whole firing thing again this morning. After being on the phone for a little over an hour, I now get to wait for the decision to come in the mail. Woo. I started getting a stomachache around 10:30...worrying myself sick, I guess. Not that there was anything to worry about, but I couldn't help it. I had no idea what she was going to say and that freaked me out. Everything went pretty well, though. And now we wait with baited breath and fingers crossed for the judge's ruling. Mindboggling. So, to pass the time, I think I'm gonna get a haircut and a beer and pretend this whole thing never happened.

Now We're Cookin'

Ok, actually I'm cookin'. Stir fry chicken and veggies with a side of rice to be exact. I didn't cook much when I lived alone because it's too hard to adjust portions for one person and I'm not a big fan of leftovers (depends what it is, though). I'm a pretty good cook, too, if I do say so myself. Guess it's one of those things where it's just not worth it if there isn't someone else around to enjoy all the work I put into it. So, now that I have a fairly captive audience, I can let out the culinary genius I've kept closeted for the last few years. Yeah, baby. Watch out, little chickens, I'm coming for you. Don't think I forgot about you Mr. Salmon Steak. I've got some butter and herbs with your name on it, little fishy. Anyone want seconds? Wait, firsts??

Sunday Lull

For the first time since I moved, I got up at 8 and didn't jump in the shower and head out into the city. The roomies were already up and the XBox was going, so I parked it on the couch in my panda slippers, pjs and a sweater and watched for about an hour or so. The bagels were calling me so I toasted one and got some juice and went right back to the couch. A little while later, I browsed the classifieds, e-mailed my resume to three places, put a copy in an envelope for a fourth and went back to the couch. Finally got up and took a shower around 12:30, pulled on jeans and a t-shirt and went back to the couch to watch The Wizard of Oz. I've spent the last hour watching Madonna videos. Guh. I've tried to rationalize my melancholy attitude by telling myself we were out late last night but, in truth, we came home and were in bed by 1am. Not that late. And I wanted to go over to the boys' house after the show, but when the roomies said let's go, I know they were trying to keep me out of trouble and all I wanted to do was get into it. I came home with the roomies instead like the good girl I'm trying to be. But today, I don't feel all that good. Not hungover or anything, just....small. All I wanted last night was to be noticed and all I want today is to crawl inside myself and pretend I'm invisible. I can't wait for Halloween when I get to be someone else for a day...

Getting Over Everything

I couldn't sleep last night. In the process of tossing and turning, I knocked a picture and a bottle of water (good thing the lid was on tight) onto the floor. After the crash, I was wide awake and tried to read, but couldn't get into the book and put it down after about 10 minutes of giving it the old college try. I put on a cd, hoping that would lull me to sleep, but that was a bad idea (or maybe just the wrong cd) because this song by the now defunct Florida band pohgoh called "friend X" just made me teary-eyed and bummed out. Made me think of that stupid guy. I know that means I'm moving past him and while it's a slow process, I *am* moving. Anyway, if you want to hear the song it's on a compliation called What's Mine Is Yours: The Emo Diaries, Chapter One. Get it, 'cause it's really good. Here's the lyrics:

you can say what you want to say. people will talk anyway. i will give you a head start. let you take the easy part. making others laugh at my expense. i'm sure you've had experience. still i have to say that was so mean. and why you have to be so mean. so mean. you can't break what's left. of my confidence. it's already shattered. while what's left of my pride. is already scattered. you won't find me fishing for compliments. but now i'm scared what to expect. now i know. what you are. empty and shallow. ugly inside. clear it up now there's nothing to hide from me. for no reason at all. you turned your back. walked away. disclaimed me. guess you'll go on being yourself. nothing that time or aging will help. i just want you to know. that you really hurt me. never knew you'd be so quick. to desert me

Old Buildings, New Business

One of the things I love about Portland is how people here care about preserving the old buildings. Take for example The McMenamins. Not only have they bought some of the coolest old buildings in the city, but they've turned some of them into movie theater/restaurant/bars. A few of us went out to the Bagdad Theater in the heart of the Hawthorne District and watched Spiderman (again) last night. The McMenamins theaters are set up so that every other row of seats has been pulled out and replaced with long tables, so you can watch the movie and eat your meal at the same time. We sat up in the balcony with a pitcher of beer and a slice of pizza. Does it get any better than that? The Laurelhurst Theater over on NE Burnside isn't a McMenamins, but it offers the same deal where you can get pizza and drinks to take into the theater. Then there's the Pearl District right downtown which used to be an industrial area but is home to some buildings which date back to the late 1800's that house some of the coolest art galleries and cafes in the area. Even the unsavory parts of downtown are being restored and buildings that were once run down and dirty are being given a facelift by new tenants like my cousins, who own Pambiche and Canita. So, come visit. I can't get enough of this city and I'd love to show it to a newbie....

My Eyes!! My Eyes!! It Burns!!

No one ever said staring at anything for too long was good for you, but I think I may have grounds for a multi-million dollar law suit against Microsoft for not including a disclaimer in their XBox manual that says playing Halo for 3 1/2 hours straight may cause temporary paralysis of the lower extremities, early symptoms of arthritis in the hands, arms, and neck, and impaired vision for extended periods of time (even after the game system has been turned off). Hell, if the lady who sued McDonald's for not telling her that the coffee was really hot can win, so could I. Just in case, I think I'm going to go play some more just to make sure it's really the game system causing me this pain and suffering and not the Bass I drank last night.

The XBox of Doom

I come rolling out of my room at 9am and what's going on in the living room? Spiderman, The Game. And it had been for at least an hour. I knew it!! That XBox is going to be the focal point of all social interaction and time suckage for at least a few weeks. Not a problem, though. I can hang with the video game posse. I just need to find a game that I really like for the XBox or lock myself in my room with my Playstation and play the games I already know and love. Somehow, that doesn't sound like as much fun as playing XBox with the roomies, but I found out very quickly that I SUCK at Spiderman. I haven't tried to play Halo yet and those are the games we have so far. I just know that renting games will likely rival renting dvds from now on and while we're all movie hounds, games are going to be more difficult as far a decision making goes. I'm digging just watching the other two play as this point... as long as they keep passing levels. It's as frustrating for the watchers as for the player when the charater keeps dying and you have to play the same level over and over and never get anywhere. So, kick ass, dudes. Don't make me rent some cheezy game like Simpson's Racing.... 'cause I will. And I'm not just saying that. I will.

Unexpected Visitor

Yesterday was originally going to be a sit around and veg after a late night out at a cd release party day, but I got a phone call around 1ish from Heath telling me he was on his way up and did I want to maybe go to the Montage for dinner and hang out. Huh. Must have gotten my number from a mutual friend. So, after heading over to Dot's for lunch with Shauna and then over to Best Buy to get me a new cd player and an XBox for Ryan (I hope that guy knows Shauna is the most excellent girlfriend ever), it was already creeping up on dinner time. Heath showed up and we were playing Spiderman, so it took awhile for us to actually get a plan together and leave the house. I already know that XBox is going to be a major source of time suckage... d'oh! Anyway, we tried to go to Canita, my cousin's new restaurant, but it was closed so we ended up at Montage after all. Mmmmm, veggie gumbo. After dinner, we headed over to Everyday Music on Sandy and each found stuff we'd been looking for and couldn't find elsewhere. In case you're curious, I ended up with the Sneaker Pimps' "Bloodsport," Juliana Hatfield's "Hey Babe," Vast's "Music For People," and Pinback's "Blue Screen Life." 40 something bucks apiece later, we were off to the Tonic Lounge because he had to pick up some records he'd left with a friend of his who just happens to be the bar manager there and makes a mean Cosmopolitan. So we hung out at the bar and talked to Chris for a bit and then his girlfriend Ashlee showed up (old friend and one time girlfriend of Heath's) and hung with us for awhile. Chris's rule is while you're sitting at his bar, you must have drink in hand and that about kicked my ass, but the guy can mix a drink like nobody's business so I can't complain. Plus, Heath treated for both dinner and drinks at the club. Hot damn. He ended up crashing at my house and left this morning to go back to Eugene. And here I thought I was going to be spending my Sunday night on the couch watching When Harry Met Sally again...

At The Library

The last few times I've been to the library, there's been this guy (tall James Dean type) with whom I've exchanged appreciative glances. For some reason, it just seems wrong. Like flirting in church. I dunno, maybe it's because I've always thought of the library as a sacred place of higher learning and lowered voices. It's a place where the thoughts and dreams of the masses are archived and protected. It's a sanctuary for the imagination.

I started going to the library when I was really little once a week with my dad. I could read and had my own library card when I was three. My dad would let me go off into the children's book section and pick out as many books as I wanted, usually 6 or 7 at a time, and then we'd go home and read together. My folks both read to me all the time from day one and I loved it. Since we travelled quite a bit while I was growing up, I've been into libraries all over the world. The overwhelming number of old books, as well as the architecture of the old buildings, always gave me a warm fuzzy feeling. By the time I was in jr. high and high school, I was reading anything I could get my hands on from Shakespeare to Jackie Collins. Books were always an escape from the petty social pressures I guess most teenagers have to endure. Anymore, I come to the library out of necessity to get my computer fix and brouse the periodical section. Still, I get this feeling when I walk through the double doors like I've just won the lottery or something. If you think about the vast expanse of knowledge available to anyone who cares to enter the building, it's pretty impressive. Yeah, you can look up anything you want on the internet and I'm a Googlephile like the rest of the computer nerds I know, but there's nothing like doing research the old fashioned way. I just like books. The way they feel in your hands, the new paper and ink smell, the old art paper inside covers... good stuff.

And then there's that guy. Looking sideways at me over the periodical index stacks and then looking down at his magasine with a cheezy grin on his face. I can't deny that he's cute in a rebel without a cause sort of way, but we're in The Library dude!! Why don't you just follow me down to St. Mary's and we can make out in the confessional? Funny thing is, I'm not even religious. I don't subscribe to any organized religion, I definitely don't go to church unless someone I know is getting married, and I'm not down with that whole Catholic guilt thing. However, I do respect the fact that other people have their own beliefs and that decorum dictates appropriate behavior in places of worship. Well, the library is like the church of knowledge, Mr. Flirty McFlirtson, so stop making me blush and when we get outside, then ask me out for coffee or something. Geez.

Looking For the Good Stuff

I think it must be the way he looks knowingly at me when we're talking about random stuff with a few other people. Or maybe it's the secret smile thing... you know that just got caught looking, look away quick and then look back, eye contact held for about two seconds longer than normal grin. I remember the exact moment when I realized I felt something for him. It was about three years ago and I'd come up to Portland with a girl I knew for a show. We had planned to crash on the guys' couches and go home to Eugene in the morning, so we were sitting around with the rest of the folks who'd come over after the show just talking about nothing in particular. Things started to wind down, there were five of us left sitting in the living room and everyone was getting tired. I jokingly said he should tell us a bedtime story. His brother and pretty much everyone else in the room said that was a bad idea, since they'd heard his stories and they apparently went on forever. I said please and that was that. Story time. Everyone else sort of tuned out but he had my complete attention. It was like no one else was even in the room. And that's when I knew. But I never did anything about it. Then, earlier this year, I had come up to visit and the house was overflowing with people crashing on couches and in the newly opened spare room, so he offered to share his room with me. I asked him to show me some of his sketches and he pulled out a children's book that his brother had written and he'd illustrated and read it to me. I loved it...the story, the drawings, him reading to me... all of it. And there was that feeling again. I've felt it a million times since then so it's too late for me. I'm hooked. Damn guy.

I Don't Wanna Grow Up

Dammit. I still don't have a job. But I pulled out the sketchbook and went down to Pioneer Square in the middle of the day when a ton of people are milling around during their lunchbreaks to draw and got some decent stuff. There was this little boy, about 4 years old, playing around near the fountains. His mom freaked out (must have thought he was going to fall in or something), grabbed his arm and dragged him off to stay near his dad. The kid pouted and when his dad picked him up, he leaned over dad's shoulder, rested his cheek on his hand and made the saddest little face. So I drew him. About five minutes later, he was laughing and running around his dad's legs like nothing had happened. Kids are cool like that. If they care about you, whether you're a parent or a friend, they forgive without question. That someone can hurt their feelings over and over and they can bounce back a few minutes later and still look at the person with unconditional love is amazing. So, I think I'm done with being a mature adult and I'm going back to being a kid. Things are far less complicated that way...

Movin' and Groovin'

I've listened to the mix cd three times now and I've come to three conclusions:

1. I need to go to see more bands that I don't know because I've gotten in the habit of always going to my friends' shows and I'm missing out on other really good music. (Not that my friends aren't amazingly talented, 'cause they are.)
2. Koji has really good taste in music and if he says go see a show or pick up an album, even if I haven't heard of the band, I'm going...even if I have to go by myself.
3. I need to hear more Modest Mouse, Death Cab For Cutie, Julie Plug, Rilo Kiley and Pinback.

Damn, I love getting new music. I'd plant a big 'ol smooch on that guy if he was here.

Shakin' That Ass

Oh hell yeah..... I just came home to two cds from Koji!! One is a mix of indi stuff and the other is a band called Enon (gotta love burned cds - two Enon albums on one disc! Woo!). I put Enon on first and I'm sold...they're playing a show at the Blackbird next week and I've gotta try to go. They're playing the following night in the Bay Area, so if I lived down there, I'd check them out with Koji. It's always more fun to go to a first show with someone who's already a fan.

Muchas Gracias, Koji! Hope you got the fax I sent today, you slacker.... =)

Taken For Granted

So, last night after the show I said I was going to go home and go to bed to avoid crying. Turns out, I was wrong. I hate being wrong.

Psychic, psycho, psych out... Is that Latin?

I'd love to be able to read people's minds. It'd make things so much easier. I wouldn't have to wonder who's being honest and who's telling me what they think I want to hear. But I'd want to be able to turn it on and off at will. I already have enough of my own head noise that I definitely don't need the constant barrage of other people's. I'd use my powers for good (ok, maybe a little evil, but everything in moderation, right?), but I wouldn't tell anyone I had "inside information." Ha. Anyway, here's what brought this on: In recent talks with my roomie's boyfriend Ryan, who happens to be a very good and very old friend of J., I'm hearing more often than not that Ryan doesn't believe the things J. has said about how he feels about me and that I shouldn't either. He has warned me to be on my guard and not take much of what J. says to heart, because he's got a history of telling girls what he thinks they want to hear instead of just telling them he's not interested. He's the non-confrontational type and wants to be everyone's friend. Ryan is convinced that J. is destined to be a lonely old man who never finds love because he's too busy being that guy who sits on the couch watching sports with the guys. I can't help but wonder what he thinks will happen to J. when the rest of the guys find women to settle down with and start that phase of their lives (and we're all at the age where that's starting to happen). Will a new crop of guys just magically appear to sit on the couch with him? Is he going to become the Matthew McConnaughy character in "Dazed and Confused" who goes for the high school girls because, "I keep getting older, but they stay the same age."?? Somehow, I doubt that. But I have faith in people's ability work out their baggage and envision their futures based on choices they make. Not that everyone should be in a relationship, but I can't think of a sadder way to grow old than alone. I don't need to be with someone, I simply want to be with someone. I'd like to know that when I'm 80, the person sitting in the room with me, reading their book while I read mine, is someone I'm comfortable enough with to not have to talk. That I've shared my life with someone significant and they've shared theirs with me. And I'm sure J. wants that too. It may not be with me, but I know he doesn't want to end up sitting on that couch alone.

Mini Me

So, I think I want a Mini. I know, those cars look like a dozen midget clowns are gonna come tumbling out when they stop, but they're so dang cute! And it's not as though I'm spending my days hauling concrete or anything, so I really don't need a big vehicle. I can see it now.... parking in those tiny little spots that most cars pass up as impossible to maneuver... zipping through traffic and hiding from the cops by sliding under semis... riding around with the windows down in those cute little polka dotted shirts and those big shoes and a big red nose and...D'oh! I can't get the clown thing out of my head. And I wonder if my legs would even fit under the dash? I mean, I have to have the seat most of the way back in the Sentra I drive sometimes and that little thing is easily 1/3 bigger than a Mini. And what's the deal with the trunk? Wait, there really isn't one. I guess the back seats drop down to make more room for luggage or whatever... Ooo, check it out, you can build your own car on the Mini site! Black exterior, black and red interior, automatic transmission, cd player, seat warmers.... woo hoo! And you can save your specs to a virtual garage...sweet! Ok, maybe it's not a clown car. Too bad you can't hear a sample of the horn... if it's one of those squeeze ball sounding horns, then that's it. No Mini for me. I refuse to drive a midgety clown sounding car. Clowns are creepy....

An Ode to Crummy Weather

While today is wet and grey
And most folks whine and say,
"Summer's done!
I miss the sun!"
I laugh at their dismay

I like the cold and rain
That most people disdain
And while I'm soaked
I'm totally stoked
No reasons to complain

It smells like fall in the city
The trees have colored so pretty
The umbrellas come out
Though the carriers pout
Unappreciative ones whom I pity

For chilly and sopped I will be
As I stomp all the puddles I see
And when I get inside
And my clothes have all dried
And I'm warmed by some coffee or tea

I'll be wishing I could have stayed
Outside a bit longer and played
While the rain falls fast
*If only it would last!*
Then my day would be made

It's got potential

I'm spending the rest of the week, I think, temping as a receptionist for an international business development firm. The receptionist I'm covering for is getting promoted when she gets back from sick leave, so her position is going to be opening up soon. The office is very modern and has a lot of open space (think IKEA) and the building itself is full of modern art and home to an art gallery. The people are nice and from what I can tell the environment is busy but casual. Could be interesting...

I'm so ready to be working again. It's not the money (I finally got the ok from the unemployment office and started gettting weekly checks) so much as keeping busy with so much free-time. I've been making myself get up around 8 every day, just so I don't get in the habit of sleeping the day away. I've read all the books I had left unread when I was working and bought four since I've been here and read those too. I've used up all of the clasps I had in my box of beading supplies making necklaces and bracelets, bought 10 more and used them all up too. I've watched 11 movies in the last 3 weeks which is more than I've watched in the last 3 months. I've written either here or in my book journal every day and sometimes mulitple entries in the book. I've colored my hair, been to two softball games, gone to Eugene and back, know the downtown library like the back of my hand, been to a bunch of different restaurants and bars, ridden the bus a few times and watched Crossing Over with John Edward more times than I care to count. And after all that, I still have a good chunk of time where I'm sitting on the couch thinking I should be doing something productive or at least sitting on the couch wasting time with someone other than myself. I'm getting to do whatever I want with my day and the only thing I want to do is go to work five days a week. Gawd, somebody shoot me...

Got my mojo back

Do you believe in magic? Or voodoo (thanks for the grisgris bag Mom and Dad!)? Or the power of positive thinking? Well, whatever it was that I did on Sunday, it worked like a charm. The boy came back and we're returning to the previously scheduled program. Yes, I know, I give people a LOT of chances that most of them don't deserve. In this case, he definitely doesn't deserve another chance. But I have to believe that in giving that chance, I've got some good karma coming. I guess it can be looked at as a gift or a curse... Someone once told me that I was the most forgiving person they'd ever known. I don't know if that's good or bad, but the older I get, I'm realizing that relationships are important to me and though my group of true friends is small, since this move the circle is slowly growing. And I'm not willing to shut him out of that circle. As long as we keep talking things out, and being honest with each other and ourselves, there will be infinite chances. I mess with my own head more than anyone else ever does and it's easy to think that people don't care when you doubt yourself. So I'm working on that. So's he. And for now, we're good and I can breathe...

What is normal anyway?

There are just some days when I don't want to get out of bed because I know that if I do, stupid little things will make me cry. Today is one of those days, but I'm up and out and so far so good but it's only 12:30. Everything seems extra loud today, like the whispering around me in the library has been funneled through a megaphone to my ears. The typing on the keyboard behind me sounds like popcorn popping in surround sound. And there's a strained feeling in my upper back between my shoulder blades and into my neck that means I'm worrying about something. Or letting myself worry. While I can tell myself not to think about him and distract myself with other things, I'm painfully conscientious of the fact that it's a distraction and he's still in the back of my mind waiting for me to focus and poke pins in my heart. I guess it's sort of silly considering I haven't actually had a conversation with him in two weeks, even though I've been in the same room with him twice and neither of us has said but a word or two to the other. When I'm talking to someone else, I can feel him watching but when I catch his eye, I can't read his expressions. People commented to me the other night that he kept looking over and wanted to know what the deal was, but I really don't know what to say anymore. I think the silence is what hurts the most and while there's probably a lot that should be said, no one is talking. Not even me.

Can't things just go back to normal?

Me, Myself and Ryan

Shauna left this morning on an 8 day business trip to Phoenix so it's just me, Ryan and the cat in the house. Since both of us are unemployed, we have a lot of free time to fill. This afternoon, we're going to see "Spiderman" (again) with a friend of his and hopefully I can talk him into going to the Green Room tonight to catch Soul Butler's set. I have to go back to Eugene Saturday night to pick up my folks from the airport (unless they get stuck in New Orleans because of that tornado watch from hurricane Isadora) and drop off their car. It's going to be a short visit since I have to come back early Sunday morning to catch Dr. Theopolis and The Jeffersons at the Edgefield for Oktoberfest, but it'll be nice to see my folks and hear about their trip. And get my presents. =)

Oh yeah, I didn't wear a toga last night. When Owen's girlfriend Jody asked if I was going to wear one as we were buying our tickets, I said, "Hell no....are you kidding?" to which she replied, "I knew there was a reason I liked you." Yeah, that's right, people like me because I don't run around in a sheet scaring the little children and blinding my friends with my paleness.