Last night was great. It was so great that I couldn't stop smiling all day today. I didn't do that much and felt totally justified in it. I ended the day with a walk with my roommates through the Pier Park rose gardens. It was the first time I had ever been there. It's huge and beautiful and was the perfect way to end this weekend.
Blowpony moved venues today as there was usually some fucked-up-edness at the downtown location, usually ending with cops making an appearance. Blowpony's new location was the Branx which I personally love just because it's in SE.
It's in the industrial area so they're not a lot of homophobes passing by and there's not any neighbors to complain. Hell, I didn't even see any cops, just a lot of happy queer-dos. And I was ecstatic to be one of them.
Every yoga class that I've been to has not lived up to the advertising. Yoga has the aura about being all healing and spiritual, done in a beautifully sunlit studio, maybe with some new agey music in the background or something like 'You Gotta Be' by Desiree. However, the yoga sessions I've been to previously have fallen short of that.
Today, I went to free day at the Yoga Union with some friends. It was very Bally's and, suprisingly, I enjoyed it more. The music was a tad distracting and the instructor would occassionally confuse her right with her left when verbally instructing us but overall, it worked for me. I was sold when they played a Jack Johnson song when we were all in the corpse pose. It was at the end of the session and the music and exercise gradually made sense to me. I don't normally care for Jack Johnson but damn, his music works well for corpses.
In the past, I've used my sick days for mental health days but today it was more legitimate. When I used to stay home sick from school, my mom would make me stay in my room, just to make sure that I didn't enjoy my day off. I did take more than my share of sick days and, even then, I was hardly ever really sick. I used to bring carrots and celery to chew up before science quiz time in Junior High and then spit them out in the toilets to make it more legitimate.
Using sick time when you're actually sick seems like a waste. However, my boss told us the other day that somebody in one of the outlet stores, where we don't have clients, was diagnosed with Swine Flu so we were told that we should stay home if we have 'cold/flu-like symptoms' so I stayed home today. Plus I wanted to rest up and be healthy
However, today since I was actually sick with actual symptoms, I was able to walk around and get out of my room. I hung took Dean for a walk to go the pharmacy and then hung out at the coffeeshop. While the nature of the day was relatively new to me, my new thing was the homeopathic medicine that my sister recommended. I think that it may have actually been better for me to get out of the house.
My grandma used to make chili spaghetti, usually on Fridays when we'd have family gatherings. We'd have the option of clam chowder or chili spaghetti which was just chili over spaghetti. It sounds simple but it was wonderfully grandma-esque.
Today, I felt a bit under the weather so I decided to make some chili spaghetti for myself. It wasn't great but it was homemade and it was my first shot at it so there's room for improvement. It did get me to thinking that this is what I have now. Not only do I have to make the chili meat-free but I have to do this myself. My grandma's now in a retirement home, no longer on the farm. There won't be anymore chili spaghetti Fridays, even if I was to make it to the farm for one of those Fridays. Sad. Still, the food did make me feel a little better.
For the longest time, I could not find the Dirty Duck. I was unfamiliar with downtown when you got outside of the gay ghetto area. Chinatown confused me and I would always wander around, looking for the Dirty Duck after I had one too many drinks and one too many obnoxious party bois bump into me.
Except for the one rainbow flag, the leather flag and the statues of the leathermen, the Dirty Duck does not seem like a gay bar. It's not usually bumping choking cat techno, it doesn't have a loop of porn on the TV above the bar and it's not all concerned with fashion and gym bunnies. However, it has heart and more than enough pride. Riot Cop played at the Dirty Duck and they didn't want to have a cover at the bar so it was by suggested donation. Riot Cop then tried to give the money back but the bartender wouldn't take it. I went there the Saturday before last and their cover charge was all going to Ester's Pantry. The Duck also hosted the people who didn't feel comfortable in the more pretentious scene and it was refreshing that way.
Tonight was the last night of the Dirty Duck at it's current location. It's the oldest gay bar in Portland in a single location. It's probably survived in the same location for so long because it was out of the way (and hard to find). It was a gem that wasn't exploited or run over with hipsters. It remained true until it's last day.
The farewell party was a blast. There was more people in the bar than I have ever seen before. They had a few bands but I only made it there in time to see Sneakin' Out, a trio of husky guys who played a mandolin, a bass guitar and then the drummer played bongos, two xylophones, bells and cymbals and even a typewriter. They covered a lot of great tunes, all without lyrics but we were able to shout a lot of the lyrics out.
Dirty Duck, I hardly knew thee. I was just getting around to going out more and decided that it was the bar and then it closed. I didn't know what I had until it was gone. Sigh.
A friend is moving to Ohio soon and he was lamenting the end of night life as he knows it tonight. It's something that I forget but I do remember going out when I first moved to Portland just to be out, not really anywhere in particular but just to be on the streets where the people were.
Tonight, after the SOPI/YBR event, we headed down to the Someday Lounge where some of our friends were performing. It was fifteen bucks to get in so we sat outside, thank you very much. However, it wasn't a terrible thing. It was beautiful outside. People (not just club girls and doucebags) were out and about and we were perfectly fine talking with friends outside and not actually going in.
I've been grieving for the night life that I once knew for the past year or so as well, the gay ghetto in Portland. It used to be where just walking up and down the street was enough and you didn't actually have to go into any one particular bar. There was usually a decent enough show going on outside. I'm glad I could regain a little of that tonite.
I think of myself as a queer activist but I don't think that I actively do enough for the queer community anymore. I need to do more. Tonight, I attended an event put on by several groups that could teach me a think or two.
The Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence are not only quite a spectacle but they are also quite the movers and shakers, getting shit done, causes supported and the word out. Tonight, the Sisters were being recognized for being an active force in Portland for the past 4 years and for being around nationally for 30 years at the Portland Artist Network event at Ella Street Social Club. Yellow Brick Road was also being recognized for all of their amazing work, getting volunteers on the streets to hand out medical/hygiene supplies every night for the past 25 years. Fuck, I'm lazy! I need to be acitvated, stat!
In my NCES classes, they brought up one really good thing about the social services field of work. It doesn't pay well so you know that people that stick with it are passionate about what they do because they're definitely not in it for the money.
I got to experience a lot of that friendly feeling today at a brokerage provider fair at the town hall outside Kaiser on Interstate. I saw a while ago that there was going to be a fair and thought that it would be a nice way to get out of work for the afternoon so I insisted that we (my work) had to be there and I would do it with my roommate/co-worker.
But actually, it was important that we were there and not just to get out of work. Our marketing team does a thorough job so it's clear what my company's mission is but we could stand to be a little more approachable, not only with the customers we serve but with other agencies in the field who are not as well off as we are.
Basically, we spent the afternoon pointing out different people from different organizations that we each knew and got to meet a fair (get it?) amount of new people. A lot of my job is not just doing what my job description says. A lot of it is just gaining and maintaining good relationships with people, something that I never thought was my strong suit but it turns out that I'm pretty damn good at it. And, hell, I got paid to spend the afternoon at a fair.
It's sad but as technology increases, our brain-power decreases. Technology becomes something that we rely on and therefore we no longer need to use the part of our brain that previously handled that function. That's the main reason I won't get a GPS. I can read a damn map...sort of. Well, either way, I'm most likely going to get lost. At least it'll be by my own volition if it's technology free.
Today was a good example of how we rely too heavily on technology. I was set to meet my friend Jen at Pioneer Courthouse Square to get her a new phone. We simply set a general vicinity (the square) and a time. Had we been thinking more, we would've said, "On the steps," "At the statue," or "At the verizon store." But no, we just said, "The square," which encompasses a good sized area. I waited for an hour on the steps and Jen waited for an hour in the store. I forgot that Jen's phone was broken and therefore we were unable to communicate while we were waiting. D'oh!
Had I been on a tight schedule, this would've been an issue. However, this human/technological error ended up peaceful as it gave me a good hour or so to just sit and people watch. Human's are funny sometimes.
My boy is a model!
Back in March, I saw Bark Magazine at the vet office. They had an e-mail address to send pictures of your smiling dogs. Dean's got a great smile, although he's pretty camera-shy. Anyway, I sent them his picture (not the picture above). Today, I got an e-mail, saying they've chosen his picture for their website. Check it out here. You'll have click the right arrow under the pictures a couple of times to get to Dean's pic.
I'm going to have to build him a portfolio. Of course, his only documented accomplishments are this publication and finishing first in his class at puppy kindergarten. He's lived a mild life.
I may have said this before but one of the many reasons that I chose to live in Portland was Hawthorne Blvd. Way back in 2002, when I googled 'Bohemian' and something else like street, area or city, the results came back saying Hawthorne Blvd in Portland.
When I first moved here, I loved just walking up and down Hawthorne and checking out the eccentricities. It was so lively and so fun and I love street musicians! It's gotten a lot more gentrified and it's more hipster than bohemian but it's still a nice place to visit. I just wouldn't want to live there.
Sophia and I went to the Hawthorne Street Fair today and walked up and down the boulevard. It was too crowded and I would've loved for them to shut down the streets during the fair but it was still enjoyable. We signed up for a lot of free stuff and put our names into cruise contests. Ending at the afternoon with my favorite dinner in all of Portland (#106 Eggplant and Tofu in Garlic Sauce) at Thanh Thao made it a very enjoyable day, like all Sundays should be.
On most applications, whether it's for school or work or a grant, ask for volunteer experience. Although I do a lot of community work, almost none of it is for a government-recognized charitable organization. I found that when I applied for grad school, I had to embellish on the weekly food and clothing donations I pick up to make it sound more legitimate (even though it's a fair amount of work that benefits others greatly and isn't always rewarding). If I think way back to when I volunteered (not worked for) a charitable organization, I think that I would probably have to go back to grade school when I volunteered to hand out drinks at a charity run for our church.
Today, I helped out at Sunday Parkways, a city-run but totally free-to-the-people event where an eight mile loop is closed off to motorized traffic in the city and opened to bike, skater, cyclists and communities. My job was to sit in Mt Tabor Park for three hours in the morning and tell people to veer to the left and to watch out for the grate in the road even though we put carpet over it.
It was easy and felt good. I wouldn't say that I felt like I really gave back to the community but I do feel like I helped to promote car-free behavior. Usually when I do that, it's by participating in such activities and not really working at them. They're going to continue the Sunday Parkways and add two more rides per year, bringing it to five rides a year. I think I'll volunteer for each of them if time permits.
Despite my gayness and my lack of athletic ability, I like some sports but in the form of spectating, not playing. In high school basketball, I was a particularly good bench warmer my sophomore and junior years. My senior year, I decided that it was time to follow Principal McGee's advice and, since I couldn't be an athlete, I'd be an athletic supporter.
Don't get me wrong. You wouldn't really catch me at a football game actually paying attention to the game. In a town of 308 people, there's not a lot else going on during a Friday night but I would only go for the social aspects. I could have given two shits less about the game. However, during basketball, I was completely absorbed. The coach actually had to tell me to sit down a few times because he didn't want me getting a T for cheering (or balking at the ref).
I also loved going to watch softball games during the summer. My dad played for various teams and I always found it entertaining. Every now and then, I would fill in as well, although I usually got placed in the 'girl' positions (Sophia's term, not mine). That was fine with me though. I preferred to be 'in it' as little as possible but was glad to help out.
Today, I went to see my friend Sophia play (and get on base). It seems like something I could enjoy. They're not that competitive and it's just softball. There is a gay softball league in town but I think they're pretty competitive. Sophia's asked me if I want to play and I just might some day but I would also be fine with just cheering.
Last night was great. It was so great that I couldn't stop smiling all day today. I didn't do that much and felt totally justified in it. I ended the day with a walk with my roommates through the Pier Park rose gardens. It was the first time I had ever been there. It's huge and beautiful and was the perfect way to end this weekend.
Blowpony moved venues today as there was usually some fucked-up-edness at the downtown location, usually ending with cops making an appearance. Blowpony's new location was the Branx which I personally love just because it's in SE.
Every yoga class that I've been to has not lived up to the advertising. Yoga has the aura about being all healing and spiritual, done in a beautifully sunlit studio, maybe with some new agey music in the background or something like 'You Gotta Be' by Desiree. However, the yoga sessions I've been to previously have fallen short of that.
In the past, I've used my sick days for mental health days but today it was more legitimate. When I used to stay home sick from school, my mom would make me stay in my room, just to make sure that I didn't enjoy my day off. I did take more than my share of sick days and, even then, I was hardly ever really sick. I used to bring carrots and celery to chew up before science quiz time in Junior High and then spit them out in the toilets to make it more legitimate.
My grandma used to make chili spaghetti, usually on Fridays when we'd have family gatherings. We'd have the option of clam chowder or chili spaghetti which was just chili over spaghetti. It sounds simple but it was wonderfully grandma-esque.
For the longest time, I could not find the Dirty Duck. I was unfamiliar with downtown when you got outside of the gay ghetto area. Chinatown confused me and I would always wander around, looking for the Dirty Duck after I had one too many drinks and one too many obnoxious party bois bump into me.
A friend is moving to Ohio soon and he was lamenting the end of night life as he knows it tonight. It's something that I forget but I do remember going out when I first moved to Portland just to be out, not really anywhere in particular but just to be on the streets where the people were.
I think of myself as a queer activist but I don't think that I actively do enough for the queer community anymore. I need to do more. Tonight, I attended an event put on by several groups that could teach me a think or two.
In my NCES classes, they brought up one really good thing about the social services field of work. It doesn't pay well so you know that people that stick with it are passionate about what they do because they're definitely not in it for the money.
It's sad but as technology increases, our brain-power decreases. Technology becomes something that we rely on and therefore we no longer need to use the part of our brain that previously handled that function. That's the main reason I won't get a GPS. I can read a damn map...sort of. Well, either way, I'm most likely going to get lost. At least it'll be by my own volition if it's technology free.
My boy is a model!
I may have said this before but one of the many reasons that I chose to live in Portland was Hawthorne Blvd. Way back in 2002, when I googled 'Bohemian' and something else like street, area or city, the results came back saying Hawthorne Blvd in Portland.
On most applications, whether it's for school or work or a grant, ask for volunteer experience. Although I do a lot of community work, almost none of it is for a government-recognized charitable organization. I found that when I applied for grad school, I had to embellish on the weekly food and clothing donations I pick up to make it sound more legitimate (even though it's a fair amount of work that benefits others greatly and isn't always rewarding). If I think way back to when I volunteered (not worked for) a charitable organization, I think that I would probably have to go back to grade school when I volunteered to hand out drinks at a charity run for our church.
Despite my gayness and my lack of athletic ability, I like some sports but in the form of spectating, not playing. In high school basketball, I was a particularly good bench warmer my sophomore and junior years. My senior year, I decided that it was time to follow Principal McGee's advice and, since I couldn't be an athlete, I'd be an athletic supporter.