In worried piles I typed for miles and you just stood there

The end of an era and the final end of winter. Portland summer has officially begun.



This means always having your camera, always taking pictures... all the time...






Bike adventures intended for sunsets and end with the police.
















Summer means barbeques every night, which means someone is gonna end the night playing the guitar.


...Or maybe four people.



Most of all it means I'm leaving my house again. Homework be damned.

Try to put that on your sleeve

School began again yesterday.

First I rushed off to a two hour block of time meant for my online class that turned out to be a five minute introduction of a syllabus. Annoyed I rushed off to perform countless menial errands and tasks, resting at last on a bench where I began the first 1000pp of assigned reading for the next three weeks.
Drinking free coffee and eating a vegan creme-filled doughnut courtesy of my work, I was consistently distracted by college in a very Balushian sense.

The greatest joke was the placement of my Sci-Fi class. I was walking around aimlessly along the park blocks wondering where the hell this Peter Scott center or whatever the frack was located, and I entered what I discovered to be a gym. I've never been to a university gym before. I've taken a lot of yoga at community colleges, usually in what is just a dance room, so I've previously acquainted myself with wall-to-wall mirrors and the subtle sounds of squeaking basketball sneakers and the occasional thumping of a ball against the wall in the other room. When I walked into the PSU gym what did I see but these amazing Alice-in-Wonderlandesque tiny doors that led to some unknown dimension.I wanted to enter these strange rooms, but high school fears that had once been suppressed now emerged and made me rush upstairs, away from the approaching touring high school seniors and future alumni. I entered the gym classroom where Sci-Fi was scheduled to be taught, hysterically laughing when my instructor labeled the room a "safe place," because life lessons have taught each individual living breathing geek that a gym is anything but safe. Nonetheless, my instructor introduced me to what I understand is my first class that I can eagerly await, one that I enjoy taking notes for, absorbing jargon I'm amazed I had never heard, hearing tales of wonder and horror I have never explored, surrounded by nerds I never before knew existed. All except for Sam, who probably could have sat behind me the whole term without me realizing he was there were it not for the name "Elias Giangos" being announced during roll call. This is going to be an interesting summer for sure.
****
It's been three days now since the itch in my left Eustachian tube returned. That's how it always begins. First with the sneezing, then the itching of my left ear before it spreads to the right. This has been my life in Portland. The allergies got worse when I moved here, and it's always asymmetrical, with the imbalance originating on my sinister side. What begins as unilateral discomfort will mutate and progress into an overwhelming disabling that soon causes me to be totally useless, until I finally get off my ass and see a damn acupuncturist.

I still haven't gone. There's a great acupuncturist three blocks from my house. Seriously. I realized that my garlic oil is now too old to rely on, so this morning I visited Food Fight and they sold me a giant bulb of blackness that reeked something like urine when I cracked it open.


I don't think I can compost this.

Itches in my teeth.

Yesterday was another fun day off before school starts. Day seven, actually, in the wagon tales. Had a minor panic about sitting at the round table with all the kings men and not partaking in some of the circulating mead, but I managed to maintain my dignity just fine.

It was Sir Ubick's birthday, after all.
He wished for a grand meal, and a grand meal was had.

There was conversation, and a lot of food. Well, for the carnies there was a lot of food. For the vegans, there was a 2nd-class citizen table, where we were served four courses of salad and bread.


I, of course, as a stubborn assertive bitch refused to be segregated away from the gentleman who offered to pay for my dinner. It seemed customary etiquette that we be seated together, even if the servers had to be bothered by serving me food on a plate of my own. (Sorry dudes, but for $25 one should be able to figure out how to make a single serving of salad.)

Yes, in spite of assigned seating we all managed to make it a great birthday, and Judy helped me stuff myself with a homemade vegan cherry pie with cherries she stole from the old neighbors by climbing atop her van and fighting off the crows.

Success.

Oh, and speaking of success, this week's Jonesin' (which I'm convinced made a graceful return thanks to my own penchant charm and great knack with letter writing campaigns) only challenged me for a mere 15 minutes.
You'll have to try a bit harder than that, Matt Jones.

Best to keep your eyes

Summer staycation has been sunny and fun.

Had breakfast on Saturday with some good friends at Bumblekiss.

Justin got a new bike. We checked it out before riding over to see Up! in 3-D.

Then I went with Jonny to see Shellac.

Afterwards I stood at the back of the Queers show, allowing them to score the 45 minutes of naked bike riding happening outside (geez that thing went on for forever).

Yesterday I got a bunch of errands done. Then I went to Colonel Sumner's park.

Some folks were drinking. Not me. Actually, today was day 5.
We had a great time.

Today Chris and I rode bikes out to Sauvie Island. We were greeted by Mao trying to play with a mouse.

There were a bazillion of these tiny jumpy frogs everywhere.

There was giant chard. I'm such a self-righteous chard eater.

Chris wanted to blow giant beans.

We sat around for hours, doing crossword puzzles in the sun.


I got a sunburn. In a weird sorta way, I'm kind of enjoying the burn. It's like, a nostalgic throwback to childhood or something. I can't remember my last sunburn. We filled Chris' bag full of starts from Brian's compost pile, and dug up a bunch of the dirt to plant them all and make them happy with fresh dirt and water.

I don't want to start school next week. Boo.

So I lean on you sometimes...

I turned into a total failure last night. Again.

Didn't sleep. Not until seven this morning, when I was alone to think about what I have done. It was fun for a while, but it looks like I've gotta get back on board.

Back on the wagon.

I kissed the bottle. Should have been kissing you.

Super sanitary garbage man

NEW CAMERA DAY!!! NEW CAMERA DAY!!!!

I spent some time doing a virtual tour of our home as a means of experimentation for my new camera. I've decided that "Candle" is my favorite setting.

Let's start outside, shall we?

We love our back porch. Landlord Julie has it set up real nice and comfy, and it gets real warm during the day, and you can see downtown real well at night.

I look at the neighbors roof all the time, and am therefore not shocked at all that our porch actually hangs over a grand wilderness:
This is the other half of our porch, ie, the covered part. There are birdies:Front yard. We found these funny outdoor chairs that we put at the top of the driveway with a cute little table so we can sit and read and stare at people all day:
You may notice the pile of slate tablets behind us that will be used to tile the sideyard, thereby extending our front yard hangout spot.
Now, moving indoors:
This is the scene from the bedroom, and you'll notice the awesome window that keeps fresh air blowing in.
The futon where old man Leuc spends all day sleeping and resting his achy bones. Oh, and Jodie's awesome mirror, which I know she wants back whenever she makes it up to Portland again. Oh, and those windows above the futon also open.
This is the piano that I practice "Flight of the Bumblebee" on daily, thereby driving everyone around me totally insane. Oh, and this is actually where I am sitting, right now, typing on my laptop. Those window don't open, which I'm sure would be great if they did.
In the living room:When I have to give a presentation, I like to project over my loyal subjects who lay in wait to assist me with grand enlightenment. Those windows don't open, and as soon as we get that side yard cleaned up I have every intention of going out there with some windex.
Oh, and finally, I was so excited when I found this flier:

Oh, and BTW Derrick Jensen, on pages 120 and 125 of your new 2009 book, "What We Leave Behind," the Aum Shinrikyo cult of Japan used sarin poisoning in the Tokyo subway attacks, NOT cyanide. As a matter of fact, sarin has been reported to be 500 times more lethal than cyanide (Council on Foreign Relations (2006)). Fact check and mate.

We want to fly like angels

Welcome back grey. Portland sure did miss you. So glad you missed us too. So glad I am hungover and you came back to emphatically remind me of just how gloomy that can feel.

Please, grey, ensure that I don't take that movie back across town like I promised Chris I would.

Promise me grey that you'll keep me from wanting to celebrate new Buffy comic book day.

Promise me that tonight will be slow and you'll keep all of Portland warm and dry in their lonely homes, not wanting the sticky liquid comfort of old town and all of its sweet greasy confections. Keep the night long and drawn out and too slow to make staring at the clock even worth it.

Welcome back. Please stay long enough to ruin our day at the river tomorrow, too.

I leave it burning and count the dead

I love it when it gets muggy in Portland. There are images I block out, repress, forget about during the gray season. Something about the humidity acts as a catalyst, jolting everything back, center stage.

Long bike rides that take breaks along soothing creeks and rivers.

Sitting all summer long at Laurelhurst drinking beers and watching the dog make friends.

Swimming in the river and hoping I don't burn or feel some creepy crawly giant aquatic creature slither past me or startle me on the other end of a pile of rapidy rocks where its carcass stinks and rots from the feeding frenzy of flies.

Long beautiful road trips down the 101 where I get ot pee in the redwoods and watch Leuc pee on my pee and know that at the end of the long and winding road I get to see loved ones that I've missed oh so much.

The two months I lived in Phoenix and you could hang a full load of laundry outside and have it ready in two hours. Just beware of the impending dust storms. Then you have to wash it all over again.

Reading magazines in the yard while your feet dangle in a kiddie pool. It sucks when you bring an inflatable one to the party, like, on your back while yr all sweaty and riding the bike in a bikini, and you finally blow it up and fill it with cold water (after you let the hot hose drain a bit, of course) and then some shitty diaper kid comes and makes the water all brown. But yeah, I love summer because it means kiddie pool time.
burning hot subway stations, so stuffy you feel like choking.
The widders in Fresno. Ones that would get so big and start tickling at yr feet when you've been drowning the yard in the sprinkler, the one that rotates and whooshes around while you and all yr elementary school friends are screaming and jumping around in onesies.
And, finally, my birthday happens in summer. Summertime means I get to wear my pink dress and my tiara and refuse to have a bad day. Summer is never too hot for that.

Muggy = happy again :)

Oh, and PS, I'm tired of the broken camera. I'm tired of Google images being my godsend for friggin articulation aids. Tomorrow I buy a new camera.