I was going to write a witty post last night about my amazing procrastination, but then..... well...... I didn't. Neither did I write the paper I struggled all weekend to finish. I did however, look at topo maps online and plot out next weekends hiking/showshoeing, did a few dishes before realizing that the dishes had been dirty all week and the only reason I was washing them was to avoid doing my paper, did some pushups (yeah, really. so shoot me.), forgot entirely about the Toasters show I had a ticket for, went for a walk, looked for apartments that I'm not moving into until the end of August and stared at the computer a lot. What a waste of a weekend.
Friday, however, I did have a very Portland moment. I was sitting in a place called Porky's Pub in wayyyyyy north North Portland (affectionately dubbed 'NoPo') admist a bunch of cute hipster boys with their facial hair in various stages of unshavedness. No one carded me, no one gave me a hard time for sitting there for two hours without drinking anything. There were microbrews and PBR everywhere and a girl was playing the accordian. I think I'll go back.
Monday, February 27, 2006
Friday, February 24, 2006
WARNING: Moody bitch with a keyboard
You'd think that after nearly 24 years of living with myself I'd have gotten used to my spectacular mood swings. I understand, in some logical part of my brain that's allowed to function under normal circumstances, that these are purely hormonal, chemical, molecular, biological....NOT MY FUCKING FAULT....and they're not caused by outside interference. Nevertheless, I still manage to surprise myself.
Today started off well enough. I was cheerful, even. I made tea, instead of coffee and somehow found this amusing. Perhaps that should have been a sign. When the mood goes up, it must go down. I put on my desert camo pants, feeling special that I'm wearing pants that I wore in Afghanistan and that no one on campus today could say the same. I decided to wear my Chucks, which were bought prior to Nike's takeover of Converse and thus the last pair I will ever own. They only get busted out on particularly happy days.
So I'm sitting in class. Once again, this is archaeology, a subject I enjoy with the added benefit of a hot guy in the room. I get my window seat and settle in to admiring the blue, clear sky.
All of the sudden... I convince myself that I've failed the test we took last week. My pants make me look fat. These shoes look dumb and they hurt my feet. How dare it be sunny! How dare it! I wish it wasn't so cold out. God, it's fucking ROASTING in here! If that girl asks one more know-it-all question I will strangle her. Or at least throw my leaky pen at the back of her head. Why did I even come today? I hate this class.
I even had attitude in my notes. After the prof explained why the Fertile Crescent was the perfect place for agriculture to sprout (har!) up, I wrote: "So the Fertile Crescent is fertile. Who knew!"
So there you have it. One morning in the mind of Sara. And by the way, I meant keyboard as in computer keyboard; I won't be blasting synthesizers at anyone. Although, the pained looks on peoples' faces might make me feel better. Momentarily.
Today started off well enough. I was cheerful, even. I made tea, instead of coffee and somehow found this amusing. Perhaps that should have been a sign. When the mood goes up, it must go down. I put on my desert camo pants, feeling special that I'm wearing pants that I wore in Afghanistan and that no one on campus today could say the same. I decided to wear my Chucks, which were bought prior to Nike's takeover of Converse and thus the last pair I will ever own. They only get busted out on particularly happy days.
So I'm sitting in class. Once again, this is archaeology, a subject I enjoy with the added benefit of a hot guy in the room. I get my window seat and settle in to admiring the blue, clear sky.
All of the sudden... I convince myself that I've failed the test we took last week. My pants make me look fat. These shoes look dumb and they hurt my feet. How dare it be sunny! How dare it! I wish it wasn't so cold out. God, it's fucking ROASTING in here! If that girl asks one more know-it-all question I will strangle her. Or at least throw my leaky pen at the back of her head. Why did I even come today? I hate this class.
I even had attitude in my notes. After the prof explained why the Fertile Crescent was the perfect place for agriculture to sprout (har!) up, I wrote: "So the Fertile Crescent is fertile. Who knew!"
So there you have it. One morning in the mind of Sara. And by the way, I meant keyboard as in computer keyboard; I won't be blasting synthesizers at anyone. Although, the pained looks on peoples' faces might make me feel better. Momentarily.
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
A Cloudy Morning
I was going to write that I saw the doppelganger of Jack Kerouac today, but according to dictionary.com a doppelganger is for someone living, which Kerouac is not, so I can't use that word. But anyway, I saw some dude who looked just like him walking down the street this morning. I've not much idea what Kerouac looked like other than the grainy photograph of him smoking a cigarette on the cover of Desolation Angels. But if the man in the grainy photograph were to be walking through the streets of Portland, he'd look just like this guy.
It's a Kerouac day. Cloudy, but not rainy - the kind of day that begs for a wandering walk through the hills. I'd like to spend the 4-hour gap between classes this afternoon meandering through the hills above Goose Hollow, but there's homework to be done. A good student would have done her homework last night, I suppose. Oh well.
Class with hot guy in a few minutes! Yeehaw!
It's a Kerouac day. Cloudy, but not rainy - the kind of day that begs for a wandering walk through the hills. I'd like to spend the 4-hour gap between classes this afternoon meandering through the hills above Goose Hollow, but there's homework to be done. A good student would have done her homework last night, I suppose. Oh well.
Class with hot guy in a few minutes! Yeehaw!
Monday, February 20, 2006
All Apologies
I would like to apologize for the spate of boring posts on this blog. Disappointingly, I haven't done anything really exciting recently - no jumping out of airplanes or climbing mountains. Oh, I enjoy school, don't get me wrong, but unless you want to hear about the origins of symbolism in the Upper Palaeolithic (well, even if you DO) there may not be much interesting posting in the near future.
I have been doing a lot of reading, though, and some of it is actually interesting. While I was stamping around downtown on Friday waiting for the train to start working again (see the last post), I stopped at Powell's for some coffee and a book called The Travels of Jaimie McPheeters, by Robert Lewis Taylor. It's won awards, but don't let that scare you away; it's actually pretty damn funny. Almost makes me wish I could have been part of the California gold rush.
Today, I heard someone use the word, "catness." For some reason this makes me laugh. I even put it in my notes.
Sigh. Back to reading about torture and Abu Ghraib. Yawn.
I have been doing a lot of reading, though, and some of it is actually interesting. While I was stamping around downtown on Friday waiting for the train to start working again (see the last post), I stopped at Powell's for some coffee and a book called The Travels of Jaimie McPheeters, by Robert Lewis Taylor. It's won awards, but don't let that scare you away; it's actually pretty damn funny. Almost makes me wish I could have been part of the California gold rush.
Today, I heard someone use the word, "catness." For some reason this makes me laugh. I even put it in my notes.
Sigh. Back to reading about torture and Abu Ghraib. Yawn.
Saturday, February 18, 2006
That's it! I'm moving into Portland!
I've gone on and on over the virtues of Portland's public transportation system. I ride the lightrail train (called the MAX) twice a day and have never, in the three months I've lived here, EVER had a problem with it.
Yesterday, at 10:15, I had a midterm scheduled in my favorite class, Archaeology. The day was not going well to begin with. There's a huge windstorm and the banging of doors and things kept waking me up. Tony decided to call me for the first time in a month at 2:30 in the morning. The boy has been in Iraq for six months - you'd think he'd have the time zones figured out by now. I finally gave up sleeping at 6 and got up to make coffee and look over my notes.
8:45 rolled around and I headed down to the train, a bit earlier than usual. The 8:50 train gets me to school about 35 minutes before my class, so I could probably wait for a later one, but usually don't, as I like the extra cushion of time. There are two trains sitting there, not moving. "Hmmm," I said, frowning to myself. "This is very weird."
I got on the train and the TriMet guy kept saying, "Does everyone understand what's going on?" but then doesn't wait for anyone to answer him. I asked a lady nearby. "Oh, there's a power outage and we're not moving for awhile."
I race back to my apartment and get in my car. As I turn the corner, cursing and trying to figure out where I'm going to park in downtown, I see the train zoom past. "Hooray!" I think. "They've fixed it!"
So I parked down at the train station and got on the next train. We sat there for 20 minutes, not moving with the driver saying, "just a few more minutes, just a few more minutes." We are then driven two stops ahead and told to get off and find a bus.
About a thousand late, confused people raced towards the buses, politely ramming their way on. We then drove through rush hour traffic and I'm dropped off 1/2 a mile from school. 6 minutes before my test starts.
Speed walking, dodging traffic and running through Do Not Walk signs, I make the half mile and dash up the three flights of stairs to find a hundred people diligently working on their tests. I swear to you there have never been more than forty people in that class before. I must have looked sufficiently harried, as the prof smiled and cheerfully pointed out an empty seat in the very far back of the room.
I scribbled down half-assed answers that should have been at least twice as long as they were, tossed my test booklet on the front desk and went straight to the nearest bar. Damn 'Mericans and their conservatism on alcohol..... I got a mildly funny look for ordering one Irish coffee and when I finished it 1 minute later and ordered another, I got another funny look. The drink came with the check. I think I was politely kicked out.
Did I mention it was the coldest day of the year? Twenty-something degrees with 25 mph winds, with gusts over 50mph. Beautiful and sunny, but terrifically cold. Everyone was dressed exactly the same: scruffy-looking jacket over an even scruffier looking hoody. You'd have thought 70% of Portlanders were homeless.
I staggered through Portland like this for hours, buying things I didn't need, waiting for the trains to start running again. By 4:30, I gave up and took a bus that left me a mile from home. This livin' in the 'burbs shit has got to stop.
Yesterday, at 10:15, I had a midterm scheduled in my favorite class, Archaeology. The day was not going well to begin with. There's a huge windstorm and the banging of doors and things kept waking me up. Tony decided to call me for the first time in a month at 2:30 in the morning. The boy has been in Iraq for six months - you'd think he'd have the time zones figured out by now. I finally gave up sleeping at 6 and got up to make coffee and look over my notes.
8:45 rolled around and I headed down to the train, a bit earlier than usual. The 8:50 train gets me to school about 35 minutes before my class, so I could probably wait for a later one, but usually don't, as I like the extra cushion of time. There are two trains sitting there, not moving. "Hmmm," I said, frowning to myself. "This is very weird."
I got on the train and the TriMet guy kept saying, "Does everyone understand what's going on?" but then doesn't wait for anyone to answer him. I asked a lady nearby. "Oh, there's a power outage and we're not moving for awhile."
I race back to my apartment and get in my car. As I turn the corner, cursing and trying to figure out where I'm going to park in downtown, I see the train zoom past. "Hooray!" I think. "They've fixed it!"
So I parked down at the train station and got on the next train. We sat there for 20 minutes, not moving with the driver saying, "just a few more minutes, just a few more minutes." We are then driven two stops ahead and told to get off and find a bus.
About a thousand late, confused people raced towards the buses, politely ramming their way on. We then drove through rush hour traffic and I'm dropped off 1/2 a mile from school. 6 minutes before my test starts.
Speed walking, dodging traffic and running through Do Not Walk signs, I make the half mile and dash up the three flights of stairs to find a hundred people diligently working on their tests. I swear to you there have never been more than forty people in that class before. I must have looked sufficiently harried, as the prof smiled and cheerfully pointed out an empty seat in the very far back of the room.
I scribbled down half-assed answers that should have been at least twice as long as they were, tossed my test booklet on the front desk and went straight to the nearest bar. Damn 'Mericans and their conservatism on alcohol..... I got a mildly funny look for ordering one Irish coffee and when I finished it 1 minute later and ordered another, I got another funny look. The drink came with the check. I think I was politely kicked out.
Did I mention it was the coldest day of the year? Twenty-something degrees with 25 mph winds, with gusts over 50mph. Beautiful and sunny, but terrifically cold. Everyone was dressed exactly the same: scruffy-looking jacket over an even scruffier looking hoody. You'd have thought 70% of Portlanders were homeless.
I staggered through Portland like this for hours, buying things I didn't need, waiting for the trains to start running again. By 4:30, I gave up and took a bus that left me a mile from home. This livin' in the 'burbs shit has got to stop.
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
Forever Corrupted
Some things I blame the army for, that may or not even be remotely related:
- I work better in the morning. If I have an assignment due, I get up several hours early and I'll get it done, plus some other studying that I didn't even need to do. In the afternoon, however, I could have hours of freetime and instead I end up on sites like this one or rockin out to music or going for a run.
- I rolled and taped the straps on my backpack. I even found black tape for it! Who does that?
- I nearly had a goddam heartattack yesterday when I stepped off the train and jackhammer started up at a nearby construction site. Spent the next half mile walk trying to determine if it was faster or slower than a .50 cal.
- I expect any paperwork will require at least a half an hour in line. When finally arriving at the front, I fully expect to be devoured whole by the evil troll behind the desk. Any time the above doesn't happen I think, "Wow! I can't believe that was so easy!"
- It's supposed to snow this week. I don't even question that the 10th Mountain Division is behind this.
- I'm convinced my landlord is going to invite himself in one day while I'm at school and leave an eviction notice because it's unclean. Or at the very least empty the trash bin on the floor, scatter papers around the house and put my dirty socks in the freezer. In fact, I'm so paranoid about it that when I hear people near the steps, I start frantically putting things in cupboards so that it doesn't LOOK messy.
On the bright side, at least I have an excuse for being a wacko.
- I work better in the morning. If I have an assignment due, I get up several hours early and I'll get it done, plus some other studying that I didn't even need to do. In the afternoon, however, I could have hours of freetime and instead I end up on sites like this one or rockin out to music or going for a run.
- I rolled and taped the straps on my backpack. I even found black tape for it! Who does that?
- I nearly had a goddam heartattack yesterday when I stepped off the train and jackhammer started up at a nearby construction site. Spent the next half mile walk trying to determine if it was faster or slower than a .50 cal.
- I expect any paperwork will require at least a half an hour in line. When finally arriving at the front, I fully expect to be devoured whole by the evil troll behind the desk. Any time the above doesn't happen I think, "Wow! I can't believe that was so easy!"
- It's supposed to snow this week. I don't even question that the 10th Mountain Division is behind this.
- I'm convinced my landlord is going to invite himself in one day while I'm at school and leave an eviction notice because it's unclean. Or at the very least empty the trash bin on the floor, scatter papers around the house and put my dirty socks in the freezer. In fact, I'm so paranoid about it that when I hear people near the steps, I start frantically putting things in cupboards so that it doesn't LOOK messy.
On the bright side, at least I have an excuse for being a wacko.
Saturday, February 11, 2006
Penises are Silly
Last night I met an old friend, met a new friend, got invited to a house show (the punk rock kind!), bore witness to a pants-dropping Who Has the Nicest Penis Contest in the middle of the bar and drank much whiskey. All for $15 and a train ride! I love Portland.
But with all the good times I managed to not get a damn thing done on Friday and I've spent the past nine - NINE! - hours trying to think of something to write for this lame paper I have to do. There's nothing like a necessary task that makes going for a long run seem appealing. At this rate I'm going to be in great shape by the end of the term!
But with all the good times I managed to not get a damn thing done on Friday and I've spent the past nine - NINE! - hours trying to think of something to write for this lame paper I have to do. There's nothing like a necessary task that makes going for a long run seem appealing. At this rate I'm going to be in great shape by the end of the term!
Thursday, February 09, 2006
Le Sigh Again.
He's not gay. Sources and methods shall remain mysterious.
In other news... TONIGHT! AT DANTES! SUPERSUCKERS! LIVE! $5! ...should be good times.
I wish I had more to blog about, but...eh. Comfort breeds complacency, right? Maybe I'll finish all of those things I have to do this weekend on Friday and then spend Saturday or Sunday hiking or something. Maybe get into a snowball fight with a tree!
In other news... TONIGHT! AT DANTES! SUPERSUCKERS! LIVE! $5! ...should be good times.
I wish I had more to blog about, but...eh. Comfort breeds complacency, right? Maybe I'll finish all of those things I have to do this weekend on Friday and then spend Saturday or Sunday hiking or something. Maybe get into a snowball fight with a tree!
Friday, February 03, 2006
Le Sigh
I've come to the understanding and gradual acceptance of the fact that no matter how wonderful of a relationhip I'm in, I will have huge and embarassing crushes on random people that I'm not dating. It's an inevitablility, so I might as well try and see the humor in it, right?
As you might have guessed, there's this boy.... I won't say much about him, but suffice to say the instant he walked into the room I knew there was going to be trouble. "No WAY is he in this class!" I thought, "How am I supposed to learn anything with THAT in the room?? He is distractingly gorgeous!" So I set about convincing myself that he's gay. Then, in my twisted logic, he would cease to be such a distraction.
Yesterday, an old friend of mine from high school invited me out to a drag show in downtown. Yes, I mean drag show as in men dressed up as women. It's supposed to be a raunchy, funny performance and it sounded like fun.
Naturally, this set me thinking about running into The Crush at the show. Then I'd know once and for all if he's gay!! "AA HAA HAHA!" I cackled to myself as I rode the streetcar that night. "What a brilliant plan!" And just as I thought that, I turned to look out the window from where I was standing and who do I see sitting RIGHT NEXT TO ME? Oh yes, it was him, not two feet away.
I swallowed a yelp and set about staring intently at my shoes. A few moments later he got up and stood directly in front of me, slowly putting on his scarf and then his jacket and then his bag, all the while looking right at me, probably trying to figure out where he's seen me before. I, in the meantime, was trying my damndest to crane my head out in any direction but his. In retrospect, I'm sure it was pretty damn obvious.
No words were spoken. For me, this was because I was afraid that "hi" would come out as a shrieking, "HOLY BEJESUS YOU'RE HOT!!!!!" As for him, it probably has something to do with the fact that he doesn't know my name.
Turns out that I never made it to the show, never caught up with my friends and didn't verify The Crush's potential gayness. I did, however, learn that he's adorably shy and dresses like a cute Portland hipster outside of class. Dammit.
As you might have guessed, there's this boy.... I won't say much about him, but suffice to say the instant he walked into the room I knew there was going to be trouble. "No WAY is he in this class!" I thought, "How am I supposed to learn anything with THAT in the room?? He is distractingly gorgeous!" So I set about convincing myself that he's gay. Then, in my twisted logic, he would cease to be such a distraction.
Yesterday, an old friend of mine from high school invited me out to a drag show in downtown. Yes, I mean drag show as in men dressed up as women. It's supposed to be a raunchy, funny performance and it sounded like fun.
Naturally, this set me thinking about running into The Crush at the show. Then I'd know once and for all if he's gay!! "AA HAA HAHA!" I cackled to myself as I rode the streetcar that night. "What a brilliant plan!" And just as I thought that, I turned to look out the window from where I was standing and who do I see sitting RIGHT NEXT TO ME? Oh yes, it was him, not two feet away.
I swallowed a yelp and set about staring intently at my shoes. A few moments later he got up and stood directly in front of me, slowly putting on his scarf and then his jacket and then his bag, all the while looking right at me, probably trying to figure out where he's seen me before. I, in the meantime, was trying my damndest to crane my head out in any direction but his. In retrospect, I'm sure it was pretty damn obvious.
No words were spoken. For me, this was because I was afraid that "hi" would come out as a shrieking, "HOLY BEJESUS YOU'RE HOT!!!!!" As for him, it probably has something to do with the fact that he doesn't know my name.
Turns out that I never made it to the show, never caught up with my friends and didn't verify The Crush's potential gayness. I did, however, learn that he's adorably shy and dresses like a cute Portland hipster outside of class. Dammit.
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