Sunday, July 24, 2011
no help here
Portland doesn't need any help from me keeping it weird. I am fairly certain that the 2 people who felt it necessary to take their birds with them to the farmers market have me covered. A cockatoo and a macaw ...shopping for fresh berries? I suppose so.
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
News
Do you want the bad news or the worse new first?
The bad news is that my first phone interview here in Portland, after some great back and forth emails with the Director of HR, consisted of her calling me to tell me that the position was filled.
The worse news is that my oven isn't really large enough to make chex mix on a large scale.
The bad news is that my first phone interview here in Portland, after some great back and forth emails with the Director of HR, consisted of her calling me to tell me that the position was filled.
The worse news is that my oven isn't really large enough to make chex mix on a large scale.
Friday, July 15, 2011
the hills are alive with the sound of...muscles?
I"ve been riding my bike a lot. Which is kind of awesome. It's been a long time- perhaps since before being able to drive, in which I've had to rely upon a bike for transport. I had a bike in Chicago- one that I rode for fun on the lakefront path. But it was casual riding- and somehow it was stressful. Too many people on the path, heck even riding in the streets to get to the path was a pain.
So far the streets in Portland have been kind to me, mostly. There are gently sloping hills which allow for a nice coast on the way down- you know, the kind where you take your feet off the pedals and really just appreciate the speed and the wind and the blur of it all. Of course the downside to a gently sloping hill is in fact the upside. At some point time, you've got to climb back up that bitch. No matter how gently sloping, a hill is a hill. And this girl's quads are still trying to cope with that.
Despite that burning sensation, being out of breath, and ickily sticky from riding my bike, it's actually fun. Fun I forgot about since being a kid. Perhaps I may take that sentiment back if I have to bike to work (uphill both ways) every day. But hey, I still don't have a job yet, so let's not even think about that.
The weather here hasn't been top notch, but I'm not complaining. A few cooler grey days still beat out 90 degrees and 90% humidity. But maybe I only say that because I like wearing pants. Who knows. There's a smell in the air, and it isn't from all the homeless people downtown (sometimes when it is warm there are certain parts that just smell like hippie armpit). The smell, some might call it a stench, is from plant- also in Chicago. It is a sickly sweet smell- one that somehow seems to capture decay and growth at the same time. Some people hate it, I love it. It's starting to show, and so I'm assuming that means warm (constant 80s) weather is on the way.
So, hopefully I'll have quads of steel next time I'm in Chicago (which might be during the fall). And better stories because this entry sucked. But just to make it amusing, I want you all to know that the Doogie Howser theme song has been running through my head the entire time I've been typing this.
So far the streets in Portland have been kind to me, mostly. There are gently sloping hills which allow for a nice coast on the way down- you know, the kind where you take your feet off the pedals and really just appreciate the speed and the wind and the blur of it all. Of course the downside to a gently sloping hill is in fact the upside. At some point time, you've got to climb back up that bitch. No matter how gently sloping, a hill is a hill. And this girl's quads are still trying to cope with that.
Despite that burning sensation, being out of breath, and ickily sticky from riding my bike, it's actually fun. Fun I forgot about since being a kid. Perhaps I may take that sentiment back if I have to bike to work (uphill both ways) every day. But hey, I still don't have a job yet, so let's not even think about that.
The weather here hasn't been top notch, but I'm not complaining. A few cooler grey days still beat out 90 degrees and 90% humidity. But maybe I only say that because I like wearing pants. Who knows. There's a smell in the air, and it isn't from all the homeless people downtown (sometimes when it is warm there are certain parts that just smell like hippie armpit). The smell, some might call it a stench, is from plant- also in Chicago. It is a sickly sweet smell- one that somehow seems to capture decay and growth at the same time. Some people hate it, I love it. It's starting to show, and so I'm assuming that means warm (constant 80s) weather is on the way.
So, hopefully I'll have quads of steel next time I'm in Chicago (which might be during the fall). And better stories because this entry sucked. But just to make it amusing, I want you all to know that the Doogie Howser theme song has been running through my head the entire time I've been typing this.
Saturday, July 2, 2011
It’s a beautiful day in this neighborhood
Forgive me readers, it's been awhile since my last post. I'll give you a run down of what I've been up do, and then let you in on some local observations.
I've been working a lot this week, pulling lots of hours on excel doing some not so exciting spreadsheet/payroll work. That has significantly cut into my lounging time, that's ok. Must not overdose on lethargy, lest it become a habit. I'm up to my 3rd capoeira class. Capoeira is Brazilian martial arts aka sexy dance fighting- this episode of Bob's Burgers explains it fairly well. It is an excellent workout as well as a challenge. Plus it is giving me crazy feet calluses. Yes, you wanted to know that.
I'm making my way slowly through The Unbearable Lightness of Being- not sure why I haven't gotten into it yet- perhaps because every time I go to read it at the park other things happen. Like napping. Or observing. Or playing a double header in softball (in all honesty, when I went to the park that day it was with the intentions of reading Gregor the Overlander, not the previously mentioned non YA fiction novel above). I ended up reading Gregor a few nights later. Good, fast read.
I went to Last Thursday the other night (Thursday, duh). This is a monthly event which is basically a street fair up on Alberta. Lots of people on stilts, lots of strange bands, a midget playing a violin, good art, bad art, idiots riding bikes through the street fair, etc.
Today I went on my first official bike ride. Got the bike back from the shop on Thursday, and today I went for a 5 mile ride. Not too far, but I've got to give myself a bit of time to get used to riding on hills. I wanted to ride north and not stop till I hit water (the Columbia river). But the farther north you get, the less bike friendly it is- more railroads and factories, and roads that are dead ends.
So enough about me. Let's talk about my neighbors. I have 3 of them- meaning we all share the same address. I have other neighbors too, but I'll get to them lately. The first thing to note is that I have met all of them and had conversations more than once with all of them. At my last place in Chicago, the only person's name I knew was the (jerk) guy who lived above, since I saw a package with his name on it. I ran into people on occasion, but no one really ever interacted. It's nice knowing these people here- it gives me a sense that people are looking out for each other.
So there's Shawn. He's youngish (my age?) and the first person I met here. He knocked on my door on Friday to say hi- and to get this, let me know he stopped by on Thursday to let me know about Last Thursdays...I had already left to go up there. He then went on to explain that I should feel free to let him know if he's being too loud or anything is wrong. He is loud, sometimes, which he explained is usually when he is working out. Hey, if it's not past midnight or before 7am, I really could care less.
Then there's Judy. Judy is shorter than I am, and is somewhere between the age of 55-70. I seriously have no idea how old she is. I asked my mom when she was in town, and she couldn't put a number on it either. Judy may or may not be a hoarder. I haven't had the chance sneak a peek through the screen door. Judy also may or may not have an obsession with QVC. And when I say may or may not, this time I mean she does. I've seen many packages outside her door on a very regular basis. Judy also keeps forgetting my name. And she maybe also watches QVC at 3am...at least I think that's what she was watching that one night.
And last but not least, supposedly living in the same apartment for 20-30 years is a man named Cupid. Yeah, that's his real name. And his son's name too. Cupid is also in the age range of 55-70 and has already done me the favor or replacing my janky smoke detector. He's the unofficial maintenance man here- I assume he gets a rent discount for mowing the lawn and doing small tasks. He also has a hoopdie (hoopdy?) parked out front. It's nice in case I forget where I live- I just have to look for the baby blue 1982 Cadillac with white-wall tires and a tarp bungeed over the sunroof.
Again, these are all really friendly people. Weird (with the exception of Shawn, I suppose)...but I guess that's Portland. Most everyone (except for some douchies here and there) has been friendly- I stopped in to Whole Foods tonight to get some beers (Deschutes Obsidian Stout in case you care) and olives. And a conversation erupted between myself, the checker, and the woman behind me- about Chicago.
The weather has been great here- 66 at the coolest, and only 1 rainy day in the past week. Urban legends say that post July 4th, it'll be nothing but sunshine and 80 degrees. Fab! But I'll admit that with the passing of Pride and the 4th coming up, it is strange to be in a city that isn't Chicago. These hallmark holidays that are rooted in friendship and debauchery, set against the beautiful backdrop of sweet home Chicago- it's hard to not be there for that. And that's only going to continue- for market days, and Lolla, and softball playoffs, and Columbus day (ha, just kidding)...
Tomorrow is Sunday, and I've no plans. Start looking for a job, go for a bike ride, go to the farmer's market, figure out plans for the 4th, go to the park- maybe even paint.
And that, friends, is keeping up with Erin for the time being.
XOXOXOX
I've been working a lot this week, pulling lots of hours on excel doing some not so exciting spreadsheet/payroll work. That has significantly cut into my lounging time, that's ok. Must not overdose on lethargy, lest it become a habit. I'm up to my 3rd capoeira class. Capoeira is Brazilian martial arts aka sexy dance fighting- this episode of Bob's Burgers explains it fairly well. It is an excellent workout as well as a challenge. Plus it is giving me crazy feet calluses. Yes, you wanted to know that.
I'm making my way slowly through The Unbearable Lightness of Being- not sure why I haven't gotten into it yet- perhaps because every time I go to read it at the park other things happen. Like napping. Or observing. Or playing a double header in softball (in all honesty, when I went to the park that day it was with the intentions of reading Gregor the Overlander, not the previously mentioned non YA fiction novel above). I ended up reading Gregor a few nights later. Good, fast read.
I went to Last Thursday the other night (Thursday, duh). This is a monthly event which is basically a street fair up on Alberta. Lots of people on stilts, lots of strange bands, a midget playing a violin, good art, bad art, idiots riding bikes through the street fair, etc.
Today I went on my first official bike ride. Got the bike back from the shop on Thursday, and today I went for a 5 mile ride. Not too far, but I've got to give myself a bit of time to get used to riding on hills. I wanted to ride north and not stop till I hit water (the Columbia river). But the farther north you get, the less bike friendly it is- more railroads and factories, and roads that are dead ends.
So enough about me. Let's talk about my neighbors. I have 3 of them- meaning we all share the same address. I have other neighbors too, but I'll get to them lately. The first thing to note is that I have met all of them and had conversations more than once with all of them. At my last place in Chicago, the only person's name I knew was the (jerk) guy who lived above, since I saw a package with his name on it. I ran into people on occasion, but no one really ever interacted. It's nice knowing these people here- it gives me a sense that people are looking out for each other.
So there's Shawn. He's youngish (my age?) and the first person I met here. He knocked on my door on Friday to say hi- and to get this, let me know he stopped by on Thursday to let me know about Last Thursdays...I had already left to go up there. He then went on to explain that I should feel free to let him know if he's being too loud or anything is wrong. He is loud, sometimes, which he explained is usually when he is working out. Hey, if it's not past midnight or before 7am, I really could care less.
Then there's Judy. Judy is shorter than I am, and is somewhere between the age of 55-70. I seriously have no idea how old she is. I asked my mom when she was in town, and she couldn't put a number on it either. Judy may or may not be a hoarder. I haven't had the chance sneak a peek through the screen door. Judy also may or may not have an obsession with QVC. And when I say may or may not, this time I mean she does. I've seen many packages outside her door on a very regular basis. Judy also keeps forgetting my name. And she maybe also watches QVC at 3am...at least I think that's what she was watching that one night.
And last but not least, supposedly living in the same apartment for 20-30 years is a man named Cupid. Yeah, that's his real name. And his son's name too. Cupid is also in the age range of 55-70 and has already done me the favor or replacing my janky smoke detector. He's the unofficial maintenance man here- I assume he gets a rent discount for mowing the lawn and doing small tasks. He also has a hoopdie (hoopdy?) parked out front. It's nice in case I forget where I live- I just have to look for the baby blue 1982 Cadillac with white-wall tires and a tarp bungeed over the sunroof.
Again, these are all really friendly people. Weird (with the exception of Shawn, I suppose)...but I guess that's Portland. Most everyone (except for some douchies here and there) has been friendly- I stopped in to Whole Foods tonight to get some beers (Deschutes Obsidian Stout in case you care) and olives. And a conversation erupted between myself, the checker, and the woman behind me- about Chicago.
The weather has been great here- 66 at the coolest, and only 1 rainy day in the past week. Urban legends say that post July 4th, it'll be nothing but sunshine and 80 degrees. Fab! But I'll admit that with the passing of Pride and the 4th coming up, it is strange to be in a city that isn't Chicago. These hallmark holidays that are rooted in friendship and debauchery, set against the beautiful backdrop of sweet home Chicago- it's hard to not be there for that. And that's only going to continue- for market days, and Lolla, and softball playoffs, and Columbus day (ha, just kidding)...
Tomorrow is Sunday, and I've no plans. Start looking for a job, go for a bike ride, go to the farmer's market, figure out plans for the 4th, go to the park- maybe even paint.
And that, friends, is keeping up with Erin for the time being.
XOXOXOX
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