Cafe Rosie

dear boyfriend in a jar

2009-02-20T12:51:00.001-08:00

dear boyfriend in a jar,

i have to break up with you. this is kind of awkward. its just that you've outgrown the jar. and frankly, i really wasn't planning for this kind of long-term commitment. when i read the package, it said you would become full-sized after 72 hours, and here we are, almost a week later, and you're still growing.

things about you that also kind of bug me are that you don't wear a shirt. you do have nice abs i guess. but that is really only a novelty. and your pants are flesh-colored, giving the illusion that you are naked. i can't see how i could introduce you to my friends or family and keep a straight face.

its not me, its really you actually.

please let me know where i can dispose of you, because i am starting to see mold form around your ankles.

best,

karin

xoxo

2009-02-12T22:03:00.000-08:00

meh.

2009-02-05T15:55:00.000-08:00

"Freedom does not always mean going.” -- David L. Goetz

I’m chewing on that one. Chewing on it as I stare at the unpacked suitcase on my living room floor, folding laundry which will return itself to that very suitcase, which will then be thrown into the back of my car tomorrow, and hauled up Hwy 101 to Discovery Bay, where I will spend a much-needed weekend reconnecting with my family.

And also, I have started and stopped this blog entry upwards of a hundred times in some sad attempt to capture the last few days in London as well as the trips to Brooklyn and Southern Cali – each no longer really than a blink of an eye. I have given up on eloquence this week, but here’s a few things:

I only took a total of eight pictures
The only souvenirs I brought back were a Wispa candy bar and what seems like a large amount of Huntington Beach - as evidenced by the sand that spilled out of my running shoes and seems to have migrated to every room in my apartment
I left behind more than a few articles of clothing
New York is still as awful and brilliant as I remembered it
L.A. still bugs me
San Diego is starting to become way too familiar
It is quite possible to run a half-marathon solo – possible to run three in fact. But braving it with someone else is so much sweeter
My trusty boots, which while a little worse for wear, look quite happy after having seen the other side of the world

the last days in london

2009-01-29T06:43:00.000-08:00

a few days have passed. most of which have been spent working from our London office; another at a PR conference on social media and blogging. here’s a few thoughts, snapshots and random bits:

- i passed a good twenty-some runners this morning with backpacks and intent looks. after musing about the backpacks for some time i realized that they were commuting. brilliant really.
- i wonder how long i would have to stay in london before the phrase (spoken with the lovelist british accent over the tube station’s loudspeaker) – “this is the picadilly line to cockfosters” ceased to make me giggle; how long i would have to stay in london before i became disenchanted with the tube all together. i’m still quite enamored with the ability to commute by public transportation at the moment.
- i find it quite bizarre that despite our being packed like sardines in the tube (i’ve had more intimate moments with strangers on the tube this week that i have had with those more familiar at home) that passengers rarely make eye contact or smile. it is the same posture people have in the cars next to me on my commute to and from work – blank stares aimed straight ahead. i wonder what we’re all thinking about.
- buckingham palace was quite disappointing at 7:30am on a thursday morning (i had expected quite a bit more fanfare or something – but it is really just a very large building, quite similar in my opinion to other very large buildings nearby. perhaps i was missing something?); however, the lamb tandoori i ordered for take-away from the indian restaurant on buckingham palace road the night previous? – awe inspiring.
- amazing cup of european coffee – followed by great run through the park – followed by leisurely breakfast at my b&b – followed by being squished up against a man on the tube i am almost certain was beck – followed by sunny walk to work through covent garden = me beaming all the way up the elevator to my office, saying to myself aloud, so as to not forget when things go south (as they inevitably do) – “I love my life, I love my life, I love my life.”

three days in london

2009-01-26T05:59:00.000-08:00

*note - the below is purely a brief attempt to recount the "what i did on my summer vacation" kind of stuff. my apologies for the lack of personal commentary - i hope that will come later - but its trapped in my head at the moment.

day three in London: the sun is shining. had the loveliest commute to work this morning on the tube. i am loving public transportation – there is an entire novel i could write on that experience alone – i had no idea what commuting to work solo in the comfort of my own car has shaped my interaction with the world I live in – both with the landscape and the people in it. i like being on the street and despite the stuffy/hot tube ride – like being around all those people – that energy, those stories. it’s really quite bizarre actually how much time we spend alone because of cars. i like the simplicity of just walking everywhere.

our office here is in a fantastic location – covent garden – and it is great to see colleagues i’ve worked with for years but rarely get to see – and even better to see them here, where they live and play and enjoy many a pint together after work. there is great energy here. i’m looking forward to a full week of post-work merriment with friends – and will savor the commute by public transport.

day two in London: the rains set in. i dragged a sore and jet-lagged me out of bed and onto the wet city streets for a 10 mile training run – which due to said soreness/tiredness – ended up being more like a 6 mile run, a 1 mile slow crawl, and a 3 mile stagger. the upside, however, was a tour through both hyde and regent’s parks - countless monuments and memorials and gardens - oh my. even in the rain it was lovely – and great to get to run through a good portion of the city.

i braved the tube alone in the afternoon to go to fortnum & mason to stare at the floors and floors of fancy food (literally floors and floors of fancy coffees, teas, candies, cheeses, meats, jams, etc.) – pretty much glazed over due to fatigue. the place is a total foodie's dream - i was particularly sucked in by the cheese - but because $15 is just a lot to spend on marmalade (and there is literally not one square inch in my bags to carry anything home) i left empty-handed.

finally moved from kate’s to my b&b (so great, but no lift + 4th floor room = hard work with luggage), grabbed a well-deserved burger and pint at a pub down the street, and happily crashed early.

day one in London: gorgeous blue sky, crisp cold. arrived around noon to kate’s (kate went to Princeton seminary with my friend mindy and is working as a youth pastor at the american church in london. mindy connected us, and lucky girl that I am – had a great tour guide and place to crash my first day/evening here).

fearing that if i sat down I’d never get up, we headed out to take in the city (more specifically the art of the city) – national gallery, tate modern, shakespeare’s globe theater, long walk along the thames with views of big ben, st. paul’s cathedral, the london eye…and it goes on. it was an amazing evening to be out walking and take in the city skyline as it was totally clear. and it was my favorite kind of “sight-seeing” – no big agenda, lots of good people-watching.

and oddly – my highlight of the day was getting to see this gem by american artist joseph cornell in the tate. i stared at it for a good fifteen minutes before i could force myself to move on. i am so fascinated by the order he creates out of the most complex ideas/dreams/thoughts. so brilliant.

capped off the day with the largest pour of red wine i’ve seen (outside my own home of course), great conversation with kate, and fantastic italian meal.

four hour layover in atlanta

2009-01-26T05:58:00.000-08:00

in the next 10 days i will schlep my bags and my fabulous new boots through six different airports. i will attend one PR conference. sleep in three different hotels. take about a million subway rides. have more than a few pints with more than a few friends, in pubs in London and Brooklyn. i will run a total of 30 miles (including one half-marathon in Huntington Beach, CA). i will have more than a few dreams about relocating to the EMEA region. i may or may not sleep in a hammock. i will hear at least one really bad piano player/lounge singer in a hotel airport. i will attempt (with the best of intentions) to capture a few snapshots via the blog. and if – at the end of this 10 days – i am still alive? it may be a small miracle. but this, this is what i live for.

little things

2009-01-16T07:50:00.000-08:00

the sun is coming up, i just poured my first cup of stumptown, deep purple "soldier of fortune" is playing in the background, and the coffee shop is rapidly filling up with portland's unemployed, artists, bartenders and businessmen.

###

my neighbor and i have taken to passing notes to one another under our doors. maintaining alternate schedules, yet sharing a natural affinity for one another, it is the way we remain connected. those little scraps of paper remind us that there is another person that cares about our comings and goings.

his notes to me are often prayers or assertions of God's goodness ("He is mighty. Be brilliant today."). sometimes they are accompanied by a CD he's burned - of which a compilation of "travis" has been my favorite. sometimes the notes are more like little riddles - puzzle peices of conversations we had - most of which i partially forgot, and when i see reference to them on paper i am astonished that he remembered.

late last night i heard the scraping of paper sliding under my door and three feet across the hardwood floor into my living room. it read: "thank you for the peace. i hope he is the one."

Why do you travel so much?

2009-01-08T09:15:00.000-08:00

“Why do you travel so much?” he asked.

And when he posed the question he looked directly into my eyes, sly little smile on his face, as if he already knew the answer, and would now skillfully expose with one penetrating glance, what he had already theorized on his own: I have a fear of commitment and of being known, and I travel out of a need to escape and of a desire to hide. I am (he believes) lost.

I felt trapped into explaining my constant wandering as if it was a psychological problem that we were now going to face bravely together, hand in hand, here in this very coffee shop. I think he half-expected tears – a breakdown – rather a breakthrough to mark the beginning of healing in this particular area of my life.

My response, I’m quite certain, was a great disappointment.

“Why not?”

****

You know what? I travel because I can – and because the world feels infinite. And because I wilt without change. I travel outside the country and on other continents. I travel within my own city when I feel like it. I travel to meet people, to experience new things, to see different kinds of trees; to get lost, to get found. To be myself; to be someone else. I travel because I am a storyteller. I travel because I am looking to find my place in the world – which I have a sneaking suspicion is as much in a village in Northern Uganda as it is in a hipster bar in New York City.

And I blame my parents. I blame them for exploring the world before I was even a thought - and for taking photos of their adventures and hanging them in our house. I blame them for putting me on planes. For shoving me in cars. For leaving the safety of their hometown Chicago to embark on their own grand adventure to the NW. For reading me books about far off places. Geez, for teaching me to read in general. I blame my mom for giving me a passion for the written word and encouraging me to write, because I can’t stop looking for the next story; my dad for continuing to praise me for being tough, as it’s given me entirely too much courage to travel alone. Sure, let’s blame my parents.

And if you prefer to believe that I travel so much because I am running away – sometimes you will be right. Because 8-12 hours a day sitting in a cubicle can force a free-spirit into a funk deep enough to make the Grand Canyon envious. And sometimes running away for a bit is the only thing making me stay.

...and it begins...

2009-01-05T11:46:00.000-08:00

Goodbye and good riddance 2008. I cannot say that I will miss you. And Cheers to the New Year!

I’m kicking off 2009 by revealing the results of a recent survey (conducted by me amongst friends, family and strangers over wine, food and general merriment in homes, bars, cars and airports) regarding current thoughts on the end of 2008/beginning of 2009. 99.9% of those surveyed are:

Dreading returning to work on Monday.
In voluntary “detox” from sweets and/or alcohol (for today at least).
Sick of snow. And talking about snow. And the words “Arctic Blast 2008.”
Not making New Year’s Resolutions, but rather New Year’s “themes” – i.e. 2009 will be the year of (*most common fill in the blanks: freedom, service, health and hope).
Really annoyed that I don’t post regularly on my blog anymore.
Cool with the fact that they fell asleep before midnight on New Year’s Eve
More thankful for their jobs, their homes, their friends and family than they’ve ever been.
Have tried really hard to hate Hilary Duff, but can’t.
Simplifying their lives in 2009. One friend calls it the year of the purge. They’re cleaning out drawers and closets; selling furniture and TV’s; donating everything they can.
Inspired to travel within the cities they live in. Looking for new adventures in old places.
Hoping their friends do not post pictures of them from New Year’s Eve on Facebook.

sucked in

2008-11-19T21:48:00.000-08:00

msn posted "6 hottest trends coming your way!" today.

blue eyliner
long floaty dresses
ruffles
glam heels
serious lipstick
lush hair

and me, in my sweater dress which 9 people have asked me if i knit with my own hands, cordouroy skirt which i purchased at buffulo exchange for the bargain price of $8, and brown leather boots which i essentially got for free by - with a smile and $15 gift card in hand - sweet-talking the salesman at banana republic.

yeah. i'm good without the ruffles.

grab bag

2008-10-30T12:32:00.000-07:00

post started last december titled “soundtracks” – never finished: “life has a soundtrack. certain songs (or albums) attach themselves to people, places and spaces in time. it can also be quite distracting. for example, on a date with boy A, when up comes soundtrack of boy B on the radio and all of a sudden you want the date to end precisely then so that you can sit with your sentimentality and think fondly of boy B (or, call or text boy B, which is exponentially worse...). i am tempted today to toss all burned mix CD’s out the window. either that or burn them ceremoniously."

post titled “we’re all waiting” started in march – never posted: “My gram has always been an amazing storyteller, and before she began to slip a little further back into herself, she wrote, she spun, she acted out stories upon stories of growing up, growing a family, falling in love. I used to make her retell the story of how she and my Papa fell in love. Sixteen years old at a high school dance - first date. So focused was she on the tall basketball star that it wasn’t until mid-way through their first slow dance that she realized she was standing on both of his feet. When she arrived home that night the first thing she did was wake up her mother and exclaim almost breathlessly, “I am going to marry Joe Stampf!”

First date. I was always amazed by this kind of clarity. She always had that.

My gram spends more time in her own mind these days. She seems to slip further and further back there with each time I visit. Physically present, but rarely engaged, but for brief moments of clarity where she will all of a sudden – as if woken from a dream - open her eyes and contribute something to the conversation as if she’s been in it all along.

And yesterday, when we went to visit her, she was occupying that space in her mind where she is replaying stories, memories and adventures. Somewhere we can’t be with her except for to hold her hand from the outside. She didn’t acknowledge our presence. She did not speak anything audible though she was so clearly busy in her head. But as we were leaving, and I leaned in to kiss her forehead, she said to me with the most striking clarity, “We’re all waiting for your husband to come.”

post titled “dear mom, I have joined a convent” started in april – never finished: “Dear Mom. I have joined a convent. Please send future communications and packages c/o The Holy Sisters of Hot Climates, Remote Village, Republic of the Congo, Central Africa. I know this may seem rash - sudden. I know that you're thinking the fact that I am not Catholic may have a hindrance on any potential future success in my new role. You are probably also wondering if I am completely bought into the whole ‘lifetime of celibacy’ thing. Valid concerns, I agree. But I am confident that given my current circumstances – “

post untitled started this morning – not enough of a post on its own to post: dear boy that works at stumptown. it is not fair that you are so attractive. it is also not fair that you use that as a ploy to get me to purchase more refills of coffee than is necessary to keep me alert.

running through it

2008-09-25T16:54:00.000-07:00

on sunday i am running my third half-marathon - this one in bellingham, wa. and i wanted to post about it now, should in the event the finish be less than glorious, i can recount the journey to it with more positive ramblings. the race is really not so much about race-day for me anyhow. to be quite honest, the only pleasure i derive from completing 13.1 miles is - well, completing 13.1 miles. being met at the end of the race by a friendly face is nice. not feeling one ounce of guilt for downing a few pints, a good burger and fries - also pretty nice. but the best part about the half-marathon for me has been the training - and due to my attempt to live like a vagabonder for the last several months - i've gotten to log miles on some pretty amazing stretches of road in some pretty amazing (albeit random) places. favorite training miles for this particular half-marathon include:

the back 40 on whitworth university campus (spokane, wa)
doe bay (orcas island, wa)
cattle point rd (friday harbor, wa)
blind bay rd (shaw island, wa)
"no-po" to downtown to the esplanade and back (portland, or)
"downtown" (walla walla, wa)
pacific beach (san diego, ca)

and on sunday, i will run on bellingham bay (bellingham, wa). i will reminisce about my more sedentary college days as i run past my old house on mill street. i will prep by taking in a cup of joe from tony's (fair trade of course), my family will be at the finish line, and in lieu of a post-race burger, there will be african peanut soup at the colophon cafe and beer and boundary bay brewery.

i'm already excited to train for the next one.

clothing optional

2008-09-24T20:27:00.000-07:00

splayed out on the tables on the ferry to orcas island were boxes of puzzles. just an hour before i hopped that ferry i got a phone call from a colleague letting me know that job i've been vying for (and applied for - with the most eloquently written cover letter) - for three years and counting - was now off the table. when i hit "end" on the call from my car, and hopped up the stairs to the main cabin i fought back tears. tears over a corporate job i never wanted but found i loved. and as i went to find a table to throw down my bag and wallow in my self-pity...these puzzles. like 10 of them. some half-formed. some unopened. and when i looked outside i saw water and blue sky and sun and these islands that i have been blessed to have loved from the seat of a sailboat since i was just barely old enough to walk. and i found myself without any tears to fight back. just smiling.

"if one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours. he will put some things behind, will pass an invisible boundary; new, universal, and more liberal laws, will begin to establish themselves around and within him." (henry david thoreau, walden) (we share the same birthday henry and i...perhaps i too was destined to live in the woods and live simply for a season)

these puzzle pieces. random. were enough to console me.

i will keep moving. i still have what feels like an abundant number of weeks to explore the world on my "work from home" gig. and tonight, i will fall asleep tonight beneath the warmth of a wood-burning stove, next to the sweetest of dogs, listening to the waves crash onto the shore of orcas island. and i will be thankful for the sweetness of vacation. rest. time and space to reflect and write and read and be myself. pony tails and rain boots and dreams of africa. and henry david thoreau.

but not before i take a dip in the hot springs just feet from my cabin.

"sleeping is giving in, no matter what the time is."

2008-09-11T09:16:00.000-07:00

i can't decipher whether my current euphoric state is due to this newly-adopted take on sleep (6 hours in 3 days and still going), whether its due to temporarily exiting my routine life, whether its having the freedom to live anywhere and everywhere for a few months, or whether its due to being immersed in the lives of people i love - but regardless of the source, euphoria it is, and i'll take it.

i realized today that i neglected to tell my friends in pdx i was leaving town, neglected to have the post office hold my mail, neglected to pack proper attire for more corporate engagements next week (working from home = working from pj's), neglected to throw away the huge bag of spinach that is now likely rotting in my fridge. such was the need to vacate apparently, that packing the bag and locking the door on my way out seemed like all the loose ends that needed to be tied.

enter in

2008-09-08T09:19:00.000-07:00

taking advantage of the brief but fabulous opportunity to work remotely until mid-november, i found myself in the car yesterday, driving through miles and miles of flat and the expanse of clear blue sky, with a new found travel companion...and somehow ended up in eastern washington. this is where i will land for the week, maybe two, depending on a few work-related variables that will keep me somewhat chained to more western washington locations.

i am here to enter in to the lives of my best friend mindy and her new husband kyle, my good buddy nicole, and a new friend and fellow wandering traveler just passing through.

highlight of the morning: a long run through the back 40 on whitworth's campus (where both mindy and nicole now work) - sun rising, new iPod mix rolling, and kicking up dirt behind a pack of bright-eyed 18 year old freshman, pretending that i might be spry enough to keep up with them - which i did - for a brief but glorious ten minutes (at which point my 10+ years age diff and the previous night's celebration slowed my pace a bit). but it was a good ten minutes, and i look forward to a week of mornings like this...

Is this thing on?

2008-08-26T08:40:00.000-07:00

I am currently swimming in a draft of the mother of all blog posts, but am unable to to actually get it from my head onto the page. So, here is just a little snippet of life in the last few weeks...

I hiked all over Mt. Hood and slept in my tent twice
I ran my first Hood-to-Coast relay - three runs, totaling 16 miles, in 30 hours
I seriously considered joining a convent, but the stories I'm collecting here are just too good to give up
I think I have slept approximately 6 hours total - and I have no kids. How does this happen?
I went wine tasting in Walla Walla, WA
I won a rubber chicken key chain
I got kicked out of my office building due to a remodel and have been forced to work from home until Nov. 9. Because home is really where the heart is...I started the hunt for an apartment swap in Hawaii, Montreal, Humbolt County, and New Mexico
I finally got a vacation on the books - and I am happily a mere four weeks away from my Canadian odyssey

So there you have it. That's all I got.

Every so often...

2008-08-18T13:33:00.000-07:00

...I laugh hard enough at a blog/website/YouTube forward, that I feel compelled enough to include a link on my blog. This is one of those links - http://stuffchristianculturelikes.blogspot.com/. Enjoy. And cheers to Joey Sanchez for the tip and the contributing editorial...

Tips for the Non-Athlete

2008-08-13T11:17:00.001-07:00

How to motivate yourself to run a half-marathon before work in the a.m.:

1) Go on a great 6.5 mile run
2) Be sure to lose your house keys along the way
3) Repeat the great 6.5 mile run in an attempt to find keys

For an added challenge, be sure your landlord is in Arizona on vacation and unavailable via cell phone. Then call the local locksmith – preferably the kind that “takes his sweet time” getting from point a to b. Give him $55 for spending approximately 3 seconds opening your lock. Take a deep breath.

I do not reccomend this training procedure unless you live above a grocery store however. After thirteen miles, fueled only by one single cup of coffee, you will need to recharge with things like bananas and powerbars (taken on loan due to lack of cash on hand) while you wait for your landlord to resurface/locksmith to show up.

Murky

2008-07-24T16:35:00.000-07:00

This was the word scrawled like a chicken scratch into the glass of the bus stop shelter on my run a few days ago. It was also the word that graced the lyrics of not one - but two different songs in my iShuffle shuffle on that same run.

"Murky" isn't a word you hear all that often, and I wondered what the (what I presumed to be) thug's motivation was for risking vandalism charges just to ensure that particular adjective was made a permanent fixture on the corner of 15th and Fremont. And there aren't that many words that rhyme with "murky" - so props to the artists (Beck and Page France) that were compelled enough to use it and were able to brilliantly work it in.

So of course, in my highly romantic, entirely-too-overthinking manner, took it as a sign as a need to evaluate all things in my life that are currently murky. Sparing you - the few and the brave readers of this blog who may no longer read due to infrequent posting - the internal ponderings of my all-too murky life at the moment, I will share some less-serious murky things I uncovered which are as follows:

Deciphering the lyrics to anything by "Clap Your Hands and Say Yeah." I am addicted to it but I have no idea what they are saying. It's...murky.

Why - if the economy is so terrible, we're all losing our homes, and we're consumed with discussing the cost of a gallon of gas - is there consistently a line out the door at my local Starbuck's every morning? Murky.
Why - when I intentionally never park my car in the same parking space near my apartment - does the same homeless man consistently choose to pee next to it? I don't remember having a confrontation with him. Perhaps he has a specific distaste for cheap American vehicles in dire need of an oil change and new front brakes? Muuuurrrkkkyyy.

That's it - that's all I've got.

Happy Friday.

best of luck

2008-07-07T15:00:00.000-07:00

dear boy,

i was initially a little hesitant to go out with you given the fact that you owned a luxury auto dealership in a swanky suburb of portland – i remember thinking to myself on the drive over to meet you for that first glass of wine – surfer girl swaying on the dashboard of my less-than-luxury but oh-so-practical ford focus wagon – ‘car salesman? seriously, kiddo, what are you doing?’ but as a girl with a particular affinity for the unknown, i decided to meet you for happy hour thinking at the very least, it may result in a good story for future telling at dinner parties and what not…

but i liked you immediately – even had a sneaking suspicion the feeling was quite mutual after you referenced our would-be second date about nine times over the course of our few glasses of wine and three and a half hours of genuinely engaging conversation. you successfully blew all my pre-conceived notions of what a car salesman would be - right out of the water. you made me laugh – not in the way that i laugh when i’m trying to be polite, but in the way that is seriously uncontainable. you were funny, and then open and honest. you disclosed just enough personal detail to be real and likeable, without disclosing too many mystery-squashing details (example: talking about your ex-girlfriend or wife at nauseam). there were a few points i actually got distracted by how cute you were.

and then you even called the next day – i didn’t even have time to sweat who should call who first. you said you had a great time, said flattering things that were just flattering enough to be charming without being over the top for having only known me a brief time, and said you’d call the next week to find a time for the alluded-to second date.

so that is why, i have to admit that my feelings and ego were a little bruised when you mysteriously disappeared. but when you didn’t call again – after about a week - i resigned to write you off as just another casualty of dating. and by a week later i’d successfully almost forgotten you entirely. perhaps you met the love of your life. perhaps work got really busy (with the current slumping economy and skyrocketing gas prices i bet a lot of people are turning towards the purchase of luxury vehicles)

and it was then - precisely one more week later - that i learned about your unfortunate incarceration. and following your unfortunate incarceration - your even more unfortunate mug shot – which was plastered to my horror on every major local news station’s 5 o’clock broadcast.

i just wanted to let you know that i know – and that i understand why you couldn’t call me back. i understand that you only get one phone call in there, so i am guessing you had to call your lawyer or someone who had the funds to front you bail money.

and i obviously can’t go out with you again (would be kind of awkward to explain this to the folks and to my friends, who i think to be quite honest would question my decision to date a car salesman more than they would a decision to date a white-collar criminal), but wanted to wish you the best of luck with everything.

me.

what the world needs now is a gig in 42 countries

2008-07-01T21:15:00.000-07:00

This made me beam. It is random acts of sillyness like this that are not actually all that silly that make the world a better place.

chapter six: how to choose a book for a road trip

2008-06-29T20:41:00.000-07:00

Preparing to embark on a pilgrimage towards wisdom and clarity (i.e. weekend date with tent @ the coast) brought upon by recent confusing and somewhat disconcerting events, I found myself in a position to select an instruction manual for the journey. I had decided the only logical choices were A) the Bible and B) Tom Robbins’ ‘Still Life with Woodpecker.’ For this particular occasion, the latter seemed more suitable – or maybe just lighter in my pack – but this was what I chose. And after having powered through this work of art and lit in nearly one sitting (and four beers and two campfires and one amazing red sunset over the Pacific) I can say with quite certainty that I chose the right path. And in that reading (which admittedly was my second) I was reminded of two very important things – as follows:

1) Love is an Outlaw. (And I think Tom Robbins would say the same about Jesus, but that is another topic altogether)
2) There is sadness AND joy in wanting. Things, people, relationships…

Now, I cannot say that I feel any more at rest or at peace after having rediscovered these facts, but I CAN say that I have now reached some assemblage of clarity on a few things totally unrelated to my previously stated confusing circumstances – as follows:

1) I dream of northern California almost daily. I must go there again soon before that part of me that loves it is driven mad by separation anxiety.
2) Seven years seems a very long time to work at a company for the sole purpose of receiving two extra weeks of vacation during that 7th year (a gift they call “sabbatical”) when if I sacrificed just a few things I could quickly save enough to take a full year off to go explore the world.
3) That novel will never in fact get written unless I turn off the TV (or rather halt the view ing my Weeds Season 3; Flight of the Conchords Season 1) and bunker down – pen to paper, fingers to keyboard.

And that is just so many should’s, would’s and could’s isn’t it?

So I’m just now returning home and to the Bible and I’ll let you know how that pans out.

Check it

2008-06-13T10:14:00.000-07:00

Things are cookin.’ And the café is setting up shop at the World Forestry Center in Washington Park on Saturday. Come hang out with me!

Portland’s Harambee Centre is sponsoring Day of the African Child. And for those of you looking for creative ways to occupy your time on an ever-shrinking budget…its free, its outside, and the MAX goes right there!

I’ll be hanging out all day in the African market, hosting a booth for Lahash, and selling crafts made by an amazing group of Sudanese widows living in refugee communities in Uganda and Sudan. The project was organized by my friend Mama Susan, who founded International Widows Association of South Sudanese Refugees in Uganda (IWASSARU). 100% of the money made goes back to the widows for investment in additional craft projects as well as providing for basic needs - like food, cooking supplies and shelter.

There will be a good group of other NGO's selling fair trade goods from Africa too - check it out.

Happy Friday peeps.

waxing domestic

2008-06-10T15:55:00.000-07:00

i have moved 7 times in the less than 9 years i have lived in pdx. transient, totally. i’ve spent that 9 years never really feeling like my space was my own – always preparing for the next move.

i’ve schlepped around the same furniture my parents bought me when i was like 8; slept in a bed on a rickety frame on wheels that squeaked and rolled and sometimes collapsed and for awhile teetered on blocks; put up with the inability to open my bedroom door all the way because the sheer size of my dresser prevented it; powered through 10 hour work days from home on a bum-numbing wooden fold-out chair sitting at a desk that still bore the faint marks of my middle school handwriting.

and last thursday, i woke up and looked around and decided i was done. and on friday, i dove into a weekend of complete domesticity. the math of my domesticity is as follows:

3 trips to IKEA and back +
12 precarious trips lugging 12 heavy boxes up the stairs to my apt. +
2 carloads of my childhood furniture unloaded to friends and the neighborhood goodwill +
1 circa WWII tool set - gifted to me by my grandfather

= roughly 27 bruises the size of texas up and down my legs, 2 arms of steel (WWII era tools do not afford the luxury of electric devices), and 6 pieces of finely assembled swedish furniture, making my 1 apartment that no longer feels like a college dorm room.

phew.

and all the nesting? well its spurred on two very fun things: 1) the largest art project i’ve ever attempted - 30’x48’ of craziness that is threatening to spill off the canvas an onto the surrounding wall and 2) for the first time in the almost four years i’ve lived in the little transient community of urban treehouses above the co-op…i finally connected with one of my neighbors. we leap-frogged the awkward passing eachother at the mailbox and dove right into treehouse gossip and plans for future glasses of wine and communal dinners. love it.

a little more like home.

why i own running shoes

2008-05-27T20:35:00.000-07:00

(and other things that may read like a nike commercial, but are not)

because i am in the client service business.
because sometimes a girl need more than just time to mend a broken heart.
because jogging in rain boots, no matter how cute they are, is kind of cumbersome.
because they are one of the few articles of clothing i purchase based on function rather than form - and i think that keeps me a little bit more grounded.
because, when used consistently and in tandem with my iPod, are able to miraculously summon the appearrance of a well-defined calf muscle.
because i never really broke in any of the running shoes i had growing up - i'm making up for lost time.
because its the only gear i need to explore a bulk of the gorge on foot.
because i don't need any special skills to use them.
because today, i am healthly and my legs can run. so i will, and they'll get me there faster.
because yoga just doesn't clear my head like the rhythm of my feet on solid ground does.
because when tied to the side of my backpack and taken on trips, they act as a sort of trophy - all dirty and battered and holes forming - and i'd like to think they make people wonder what kind of adventures they (and by default, the carrier) have seen.
because they made my recent list of "top 5 things i can't live without" - so i guess i better keep some around.

three things for tuesday

2008-05-27T14:49:00.000-07:00

so many fun things are cooking in cafe rosie that i just wanted to share a list of things i'm currently the most excited about - at least today.

the brunettes. they opened for beirut on sunday night at the crystal ballroom and i promptly fell in love. something about bands that use accordians and triangles and horns and their own clapping...same reason why i love sufjan stevens so much.

adventures on the calendar (my excitement on this front cannot be contained in a blog - this is what i live for, well that and a few other things...). the coast this weekend, 4 "dates with tent" in the summer on the books, labor day in san diego followed by a road trip across 9 national parks in california (pending purchase of westfalia of course), backpacking mt. hood in september, mexico in november...oh my.

new rain boots. because if it is going to rain 360 days a year i should at least be rocking some good rain gear.

dear all

2008-05-23T17:27:00.000-07:00

dear all boys whom i have dated in recent weeks,

i think that most of you are really good people, really. but i have to break up with you. all of you. it is not because you aren't attractive. or that you don't have a good job. it is not because you still live at home with your mom. it is not because you are not interesting.

in fact, a lot of you were quite charming. a few of you rocked some serious style. one of you had pretty much the coolest job on the planet. most of you were not afraid to play in the dirt. one of you has lived all over the world. one of you shared my passion for africa. one of you made me laugh so hard that my face literally hurt.

no, i am breaking up with you because either a) you were just not that into me and/or b) i was just not that into you. and no hard feelings, seriously. but before we cut off communications indefinitely, can you please help clarify a few of the following mysteries?

did you think that pointing out that i could increase my mile-pace if i just dropped 15 pounds, like you did, when you ran in that 5K fun run, was just the training advice i needed to get me to the next level of my athletic career?
did you think that telling me - in the first 10 minutes of our first date - that i looked liked kirsten dunst and desperately stating that you didn't want to date other people was flattering?
why do you wear so much cologne? for weeks after we stopped dating, i suspected you might be breaking in to my apartment and trying on all my clothes while i was at work, because nearly every article of clothing i own seems to smell like you (thanks for that gift that keeps on giving). but that just seems a little far fetched...
while i appreciate that you thoughtfully burned me a CD of your favorite band, there is one thing i am confused about...why is it you like them? i'm not knocking it. i am just having a hard time understanding the lyrics through all the screaming and the cow bell.
did you mean to send me that inappropriate text-message in the middle of the work day or was that spam?
can you explain why you didn't you walk me to my car when you clearly saw that i was parked next to a dodgy dark alley, but you DID feel the need to text ME immediately upon your return home to let me know that you had gotten there safely?

just curious. and again. no hard feelings.

thanks,
rosie

i am going to become an athlete

2008-05-09T08:49:00.000-07:00

i decided yesterday, while out on a particularly physically and mentally productive run, that i am going to become an athlete. and as such, training for my second half-marathon (to be run in july) is now under way.

you might start hearing me use phrases like “shave some time off my PR” (as in – “dude, i think if i cut back on my red wine consumption i may be able to shave some time off my PR”); and “fartlek” (as in – “dude, I had a gnarly fartlek session this morning…stop laughing…it means interval training”.)

i’m adding this to the few other sociological experiments i’ve conducted this year, which included ‘can one break a habit in 30 days?’ and ‘is the world really your oyster?’ and ‘will it be awkward to spend an entire day hanging out with the ex-girlfriend of your current love interest?' and 'will it be awkward to spend an entire day hanging out with the wife of a previous love interst?'

can a non-athlete become one by sheer will? i think so. i’ll let you know how it pans out.

alive and well.

2008-05-05T10:15:00.000-07:00

my apologies for the lag in communication. i was not feeling quite myself. i am quite positive that i have returned. i am nearly home now from a much-needed break from responsibility, structure, and obligation. otherwise known as vacation. it was my vacation previoulsy dubbed "vacation of random states," and now renamed, "experience of previoulsy undiscovered gems of u.s. culture." i am sharing a few highlights (which if you make it through all the way, do drop me a line and let me know - you should be gifted something as they are long) as follows:

nashville highlights.
- getting to see my joey (and his remarkable wife brynn, daughters mae and lucy) living their dream to make a living doing what they love – music (drumming, more specifically) and living in community with fellow artists. (fun new “rockstar” joey sidenotes include: he’s acquired a few more tats. he also now straightens his hair with a flat-iron and takes pictures of it daily so that he can accurately recreate it in perfect form while on the road and away from his hairstylist – brynn).
- getting to consume copious amounts of wine and johnny cash without consequence on a weekday no less.
- the style and sass of six year olds. first words spoken to me breathlessly from a six-year-old lucy upon my arrival in the driveway. she says, running up to my car to greet me upon my arrival “you dyed your hair…ooohhhh…what shoes did you bring?”
- getting a little starstruck. snapshots include sharing my morning cup of joe and a smoke with the drummer from a popular “jesus” band gone mainstream. meeting craig caruthers’ wife in a print shop quite by accident after discovering our shared portland connection.
- planning sailor tattoos that never came to fruition, but will likely be revisited in coming months.
- laughing until my stomach hurt. waking up. and doing it again.
- finding fast friends in strangers. talking about real things. having such a good time that i cried for the first leg of the drive back to louisville for want of more of it.

louisville.
- experiencing the track in all its glory. feeling a tangible swell of adrenaline when our horse started its stride to the lead of the pack. big hats, placing bets, and mint juleps (and then beers when i realized how much the juleps cost). just experiencing the energy of DERBY.
- hospitality. and this must not be understated. drinking home brew, listening to a lot of music, and talking, talking, talking with boz – late late at night and early early in the mornin’ - over meals and coffee and dog parks and strolling around the kentucky/indiana state line - dreaming about our respective futures. ending with the most amazing feeling of loving the unknown.
- an art exhibit at louisville’s speed museum that found me in a room, alone, with nothing but a sign on the wall that said “yell as loud as you can, NOW!” and when i finally did (thrusting off my first feeble attempt which was more like a downplayed cough one would exhibit at, say, the opera) – loudspeakers surrounding me on all sides cued the sounds of a deep inhale/exhale of an older gentleman. amazing. that paired with the “jesus at home” piece – robe, halo and sandals resting casually on a re-created bathroom floor…(dad – are you furrowing your brow in confusion? i’ll explain the significance to you over a glass of vino when i’m home next) – it was an aspiring artist’s playground.
- the half-marathon. 2:07 of iPod goodness (thank you gerald ford for getting me through). running through churchill downs and what seemed like all of louisville. my favorite spectator – in my head i named him earl. long grey hair, looking more than a little bit weathered in his lawn chair, sitting next to a half-rack of coors light, smokin’ a cigar and waking an american flag the size of a small car. 8th mile and wanting to quit and passing a band blaring “i’m a soul man” and finding the strength to go on. a friendly face at the finish line donning a cow bell and a homemade tee with my name all over it.

general highlights:
- hanging out with my cousins in kentucky country. driving through horse farms and drinking bourbon like a cowboy.
- seeing a handful of entirely new subcultures of the united states.
- feeling known.
- laughing until my face hurt EVERY SINGLE day.
- new music. new soundtrack. new chapter. a new appreciation for MAC and all things apple.

and i suppose returning home, which i will do here shortly.

why i suck at blogging + other fun tidbits

2008-04-09T12:33:00.000-07:00

first, i suffer from the inability to vomit brilliance like most of the bloggers i read on a regular basis. i can acutally be quite clever...and funny too...but it typically happens by accident. and when it does happen, it usually does so quite far from a device with which i can capture my genius.

second, i spend entirely too much time censoring myself and picking a choosing words as if my life depended on it.

and third, its been an unusually heady few weeks where i've been taking myself and life (uncharacteristically) entirely too seriously. no one needs to read that.

and while i still wrestle with the first and second points, thankfully, in the last week, i think i have laughed myself into normalcy again. stay tuned for lighter posts...

+ other fun tidbits.

i am coming down from the most amazing weekend with friends at the coast. highlights include the Link gracefully turning 30, laughing until we cried, drinking just enough to be warm but not queezy, great conversation, the story of a boy in a bar whose name was either chad or adam - not sure which - so he was aptly renamed chadam.
i ran 8 miles of the oregon coast last friday – officially my longest distance ever. my girls were there to meet me on the other end with the most amazing pomegranate mimosa…which led to a second, and a third mimosa, and then eventually a few bottles wine, a few beers nestled in beer cozies, and a few hearty pints (or pitchers) of beer at the local dive bar.
my kentucky derby ensemble is nearly complete, and the hat...the hat is huge.
i am putting dreams of living in africa into action yet once again (will she ever give up they ask? the answer, i'm afraid is a scream from the top of my lungs 'no' so i'm afraid you will have to continue to endure my pursuit)
i am having dinner in vancouver (as in 'wa') tonight. my portland snobbery is really wishing i would have pushed harder for the new vegan bar down the street from my place. if i don't return, send help.

six miles, sixty minutes

2008-03-24T13:21:00.000-07:00

…in the pouring down rain and wind on sunday. just to say that i have successfully completed week three in the half-marathon training. i was sans ipod too, so thus unable to drown out the sounds of my own labored breathing; able to take in all the sights and sounds of north portland on a sunday morning. here’s the recap:

· two drug deals.
· three piles of broken glass.
· two “happy easter!”’s
· two “you go girl!”’s
· eleven cyclers out for their sunday morning ride.
· six piles of vomit (implying one particularly rowdy night at alberta st. pub)
· one gigantic pile of clothes streaming from one open window, and cascading onto the lawn below. (implying one nasty break up)
· five empty 40’s peeking out of brown paper bags.
· one hipster stumbling out of an apartment building looking very much “the night after” complete with hand stamp from the previous night’s show and a puzzled look on face (implying he wasn’t quite sure where he’d parked his car)

the results are in...

2008-03-21T14:56:00.000-07:00

...or to be more accurate, you've committed to striving towards results, and so that is worthy of posting.

So apparently no one needs to quit anything. One of you even went as far as to call me to enlist my help in finding something for you to quit, because according to you, you’re perfect. But plenty of people still believe that the world is your oyster. And that is something I care infinitely more about than the fact you bite your nails or that you update your Facebook page every hour on the hour.

The world is your oyster.

Someone’s opening a fabric shop in Milwaukee with a section for art paper. And there might be coffee involved.
Someone just sent in an application for a scholarship for grad school in South Africa.
Someone decided to go after the world but is starting in a very small way. He is making sure to spend as many hours in the day looking at the natural world - sky, trees, everything - as he does looking at email (“Don't you wonder though how the natural world has somehow taken a back seat to frickin’ email?”)
Someone just bought a plane ticket to the other side of the country “to see about a boy”…and another someone bought a plane ticket to the other side of the globe “to see about a girl.”
Someone is sticking their toes into the waters of self-employment with the express goal to work half the hours for more money and have his summers free for outdoor adventures.
Someone is finally writing that children’s book.
Someone decided to start a 13 peice band.

And in somewhat related news, I ate a raw oyster a few nights ago – dinner out at Trebol. It was amazing – the oyster and the dinner and the company. I am currently loving the amazing restaurants popping up in my ‘hood that are located across the street from crack-houses and therefore still largely undiscovered.

Happy Friday! And thanks for indulging my continued obsession with making the world our oyster.

Cheers.

experiment

2008-03-18T16:26:00.000-07:00

So I am undergoing a little social experiment to answer two current nagging questions. And it requires audience participation. (Ken…c’mon, what else will you do with all that free time? You still reading? Just checking…)

1) Can a habit really be broken in 30 days? My current cycle on breaking bad habits tends to be 6 months to a year. My current goal is to break one bad habit in a mere 30 days. Apparently it is quite common to do so. There are even books on the subject. And I don’t want to jinx myself by revealing the bad habit I intend to break – but I promise to tell you if I beat it. I’m on day six and feeling good…albeit a little shaky. Your mission: Send me an email, give me a buzz, raise up the smoke signal, and let me know you’re in. Try to quit something in 30 days. Get creative. You probably have a million bad habits you think just make you "you" or "quirky" or "interesting." You don’t even have to tell me what it is, just tell me you’re in. And let’s see if this thing works.

2) Is the world really your oyster? Can you really just go after things and get them? Boys? Jobs? World Peace? A Degree? (sad that I put boys before world peace…) That opportunity to be a rockstar? What if you just decided you want something and you actually went after it? I’ve got a more than a few things I’m getting particularly feisty about pursuing these days. Your mission: Same as #1. Send me an email, give me a buzz, raise up the smoke signal, and let me know you’re in. If the world is your oyster – what do you want? Go get it. Tell me what happens.

I cannot promise I won’t promise about the results, but I promise not to use your real name. :)

choose your own

2008-03-11T12:50:00.001-07:00

i'm choosing to start my day - no my week - over, from scratch, right...now. monday and all of tuesday morning were like ages ago. today, its not raining, and i won't have a 4 hour commute in the dark and wet. today's soundtrack is tilly & the wall. today i am in a great mood. today i'm thinking along more pragmatic lines. today all i've eaten is broccoli and tofu pate. today i'm running - just three miles. just enough to feel like i've accomplished something, but not enough to be tired. today we picked a book off the foreign service exam "suggested reading list" and will resolve to finish it despite intimidation and the readily available PBS documentary with the same title. today i will stop attempting to make the mundane seem any less so.

Scrapping and Yelling and Mixing it Up

2008-03-02T18:02:00.001-08:00

I think I had just been sitting still a little too long. Cube life. Same apartment for 3+ years; same city for 7+. I used to spend 95% of my days daydreaming about the next adventure. All things anti-sitting…like moving to Africa, to San Francisco, to New York. Trips to Spain, Morocco, the Congo, Peru, Brazil, India. Getting in my car with no particular destination in mind, and no time limit to complete a trip. Quitting my job to pursue freelance writing full time. The fact that my heart beat quickly enough at just the mere the thought of these things made the sitting seem less painful.

But then the daydreaming slowed. And few things were making my heart beat quickly. And then none at all were it would seem. The free spirit does not flourish without the semi-constant heart fluttering that comes with dreaming, falling in love, and doing or making cool stuff.

And so. Over the course of 48 hours I tried the following in an effort to revive myself:

· Flee. Vacate. Get out of Dodge. Bought a plane ticket to Louisville, Kentucky. Booked a car to Nashville, TN. We’re going to the derby…
· Move. Registered for my first half-marathon (to be run a mere 12 hours after my plane lands in Louisville). Convinced two friends to train with me so that I cannot bail.
· Play. Signed up for cello lessons, ending my 17 year hiatus. As if my neighbors were not already annoyed with the random assortment of noise coming from apt. Beech...(I refuse to give up the kickboxing and singing in the shower – though I have curbed doing those activities simultaneously)
· Change. Changed my hair color. And after only two days of wear, am convinced that brunettes actually have more fun than blondes. (though I did celebrate my last night out as a blonde tearing up a dance floor with my girls…and that, I must say, from start to finish was smokin’ hot…good times)

The heart is beating a little more quickly now. I’m still sitting - it just doesn’t feel like it so much anymore…

My hope for you today, patrons of CafeRosie that have been sitting still a little too long, is that you allow yourself the frivolity of something dramatic (or semi-dramatic) to shake yourself out of it. C’mon. Do it.

####

You’re heading into mile 5 on the first long run of the season, and you’re not sure if you’re going to be able to push through…but then the iPod shuffles magic and launches into “ooh la la” by faces…onto “what do I have to do” by the violent femmes…polished off by “float on” by modest mouse…and then you’re home. and you’re thankful you still haven’t touched the playlist in like a year, because every time you run, it somehow knows exactly what you need, when you need it.

shoot

2008-02-28T08:26:00.001-08:00

i've started and stopped my "boycott of people who try too hard to be mysterious" blog, and have not been able to craft my rant in such as way so as not to incriminate myself as one of those people. i'm working on it. may post later. in the meantime, apparrently i will be boycotting "me."

and also in the meantime, happy friday.

i'm doing it

2008-02-26T08:33:00.001-08:00

today i am boycotting people who try too hard to be mysterious. updated post to follow.

i'm also stealing from a previous post of the old blog today. because it just fits the mood. and because i am particularly thankful today for more rational-thinking people than I, that regularly remind me not to take myself so seriously.

please update your relationship status

2008-02-20T13:56:00.001-08:00

Things are CRAZY.
And in the midst of craziness, I find myself pondering things with the least amount of intensity. Maybe a self-defense mechanism to remain sane. I ponder things like…

People who change their Facebook status from “Single” to “In a Relationship,” those that simply remove their “Single” status (replacing it with nothing), and those that post their relationship status as “It’s Complicated.”

I am not even a social networking kind of girl – I even despise the word “networking” and any sort of forced event that requires me to do so – let alone an online event that lasts 24/7. This is why I am shocked by my own personal obsession with Facebook. And I’m mostly obsessed with Facebook etiquette with regards to one’s own romantic classification. Yep, I like to see your updated photos, take your quizzes, play Scrabulous and Oregon Trail with you online (what a great way to avoid working!), but I’m mostly interested in your love lives – all of you. And updates to your Single/In a Relationship/It’s Complicated status are what keep me logging in day after day after day.

Here’s a few examples:

· Boy I was dating promptly changed his lack of status to “Single” roughly 24 hours after we split up. Things this makes me think to myself: Really? Quick recovery, dude. Not that I expected you to sit around and weep, but seriously – maybe 48 hours of moping? We had a great run, albeit a relatively brief one. I moped for at least a week.

· Boy that I currently consider to be my closest male friend removed his “Single” status (replacing it with nothing). Removing your “Single” status can indicate many things – but mostly it indicates that you are “off the market” for dating. When I set up my Facebook account, I never indicated either way, because I don’t need the world to know I’m single. And maybe I wanted to be mysterious. But things this makes me think to myself: Dude – is there something you need to tell me? We talk on a semi-regular basis on the phone, and I have to get the update on your love life via a social networking site? Is this the way in which you will eventually tell me you’re engaged? Will I have to view your online photo albums to find out that you have kids? And you know who you are. And you owe me a phone call.

· Boy I am currently dating removed his “Single” status (replacing it with nothing). Things this makes me think to myself. Wow. That’s awesome. Seriously. Because I like you. (And that all of a sudden sounds like I was in 4th grade.) But I am hoping we can discuss the changing of our respective status' to “In a Relationship” before I receive the request from Facebook – “So-and-so has requested you verify that you and he are ‘In a Relationship.’ Do you accept? Would you like to change your relationship status as well?” – or whatever it says.

And then THAT makes me think: At what point does your status change (official Facebook status or no) from “dating” to “in a relationship.” What’s the definitive moment that determines that? At what stage is it appropriate to call someone your “boyfriend?” (if you’ve been following this blog you know that I have historically only been comfortable referring to people as boyfriends when they are no longer boyfriends – i.e. “ex” boyfriend. I have never introduced anyone as my boyfriend to my recollection. The reasoning behind that will be included in another blog posting…maybe. My mom will tell you that I have a fear of commitment. She intuitively knows things like my favorite flavor of jam and where I want my ashes scattered too, so she might be onto something.) Does calling someone your boyfriend/girlfriend imply that you are “In a Relationship”? I am sick of this argument…are you still reading?

· “It’s Complicated” – status usually indicated by friends (Male or Female) when they involved in A) a relationship with someone who doesn’t want to pin the label “In a Relationship” to, B) just hooking up with someone, or C) one of those (And I’m not judging) on-again/off-again relationships and while they want to indicate that they’re kind of off the market, they also kind of want to indicate that they could be swayed back ON the market if a better opportunity presented itself. Things this makes me think to myself: Why would you POST that your relationship status is “complicated”? I typically try to keep my relational dysfunction under wraps. But that’s just me…

I have heard there was a point in time when Facebook did not exist and there was something called “arranged marriages” that took place entirely outside of the internet. When did life become so confusing?

all you need is love

2008-02-14T08:31:00.000-08:00

always, and not just on valentine's day - which we all know is a silly holiday invented by greeting card companies...blah, blah, blah...but yet we all at one time or another adhere to in some shape or form - even if its to simply to join friends to boycott it.

snapshot of the best valentine's day ever? 4th grade. rian, my very first boyfriend, whom i never kissed (though he did ask to which my response was - and i vividly remember this - "eat dirt") gave me a giant stuffed teddy bear. i named him 'short stop' because that was the position rian played on his leattle league baseball team. it was not wrapped, and he literally threw it at me when we got off the school bus. and i threw him his valentine's day gift right back (so as to look tough and unaffected i suppose) - which was a brand new cassette tape - the sountrack to "top gun." is it sad that since i cannot recall a more poignant exchange of valentine's day goodness since 1986?

come crash on my couch

2008-02-08T12:18:00.000-08:00

my friend kate’s cousin, joel, graced me with his presence this week and took up court in apartment beech on his brief layover from vermont to idaho, giving me good reason to:

get to know a perfect stranger.

take a mid-week personal day, restring my guitar .
talk about marriage, relationships, tom robbins and building boats and log cabins.
lose some time in a music shop dinking around on guitars, banjos and mandolins.
drive through my favorite neighborhoods in every quadrant of portland.
eat dessert.
waste time in urban outfitters studying the construction of art displays and reading horribly inappropriate books.
stay up until 2pm.
go outside in the rain without a hat, coat or umbrella.

i hope that for the rest of my life, that i always have a couch (or futon if you will) - in apartment, house or floating home - that people feel at ease to crash on. stranger or no.

all things go

2008-01-30T16:05:00.000-08:00

Life is steeped in newness right now. New job. New friend. New Playlist. New risk. New inspiration to write. New art project. New tube of toothpaste. Just enough to keep me going in the rainy slushy slog of the day to day. With sunny days to camp, hike, dig, explore on the very very distant horizon (Northwest, I love you and hate you and love you again – sometimes all at the same time) I needed the newness.

What’s getting you through winter?

Let me guess…Boz is driving the entirety of the East Coast in a car that never ceases to tell you that your seatbelt is unfastened – even when it is; Beard is falling in love in Phoenix and basking in sunshine; the Link is coming up with new and funnier ways to document her falling down and her falling for (boys). Jas is burning the midnight oil on his turn-tables. Kate is knitting something cozy or baking something sweet. Alice is watching Frosty the Snowman for the 11 millionth time – and practicing her impression of a melting frosty.

the coldest day

2008-01-28T10:12:00.000-08:00

details to follow, but highlights of chicago included: quality time with family, snow, standing in the snow in the dugout of kamisky park, seeing my parents' wedding picture on the jumbotron, running in 10 degree weather, a solo "ferris bueller's day off" moment at the chicago art institute, time to really think, having a good reason to stay up until 4am.

i am the luckiest.

cat for a wife

2008-01-22T14:03:00.000-08:00

i just found out that you passed away today. and the first memory of you that flooded my mind was the image of you and i sitting in your car outside my house listening to pedro the lion...and i thought about the particular song you made me listen to on repeat at nauseum and i thought it only fitting to post it. because. it just fits.

6. The Longest Winter
Spring comes slowly to this old friend. Still I'm frozen, I still live alone.

In time memories fade, senses numb, one forgets how it feels to have loved completely.

Love well young man, while you still can. Once your leaves turn you won't love again.

In time memories fade, senses numb, one forgets how it feels to have loved completely, completely.

Is it special when you're lonely, will you spend your whole life in a studio apartment with a cat for a wife?

The seasons, when they call you do you barricade the door? Are you stubborn, stubborn, stubborn to the core? Is it your way or the highway? Is it your way or the highway? Is it your way or the highway? Is it your way or the highway?

Then the longest winter is on her way, you called her without knowing it but now it's too late.

today's word is: co-mmit-ment

2008-01-08T14:44:00.000-08:00

* I wrote this weeks ago...and like a lot of postings, its been stewing in the "draft" folder.
###

"I always had one foot out the door, and that prevented me from doing a lot of things, like thinking about my future and... I guess it made more sense to commit to nothing, keep my options open. And that's suicide. By tiny, tiny increments." - John Cusack/High Fidelity

The phone conversation with Boz on the way home from my vodka gimlet happy hour last night was about committment. More specifically, a discussion surrounding words of wisdom given to each of us by the same friend at different times - "Committment is freedom" - and the above exerpt from the Cusack flick - essentially, "Committment to nothing is incremental suicide."

The early twenties were all about being non-commital. Non-commital to the city we lived in. Non-commital to the job we held. Non-commital to the quazi-romantic relationships we ducked in and out of. Non-commital to a church. Non-commital to a service. And it felt like freedom. Totally.

But at some point, having one foot out the door in every area of your life doesn't feel so much like freedom anymore. It feels like...being trapped. But the longer we spend being non-commital, the harder it is to actually commit to something. Anything.

But we do. We commit to a job first, because we need a paycheck. Then we commit to a living in the same space for more than 6 months because its just a pain to have to keep shlepping around your bedroom furniture and the same old tattered boxes full of books. We commit to being in community and investing in friendships because they are what keep us sane and laughing...and out of the tank. We commit to service - serving others - because we are sick of serving ourselves all the time. We are more aware of the needs and hurts in this world and we want to help.

But romantic relationships - the kind that could lead to (gasp) marriage. That's harder. More permanent than the one-year lease on our tiny apartments. More life-altering than a career change. We've seen marriages fail and we begin to fear that when we choose, we'll choose the wrong person. So we choose nothing. And that doesn't work either. No conclusion - just observation.

full

2007-12-26T08:21:00.000-08:00

the family opted out of the post-holiday-meal game of trivial pursuit this year and instead, gathered around the fire and poured over episode after episode of the old johnny cash tv show. my personal highlights...a very young bob dylan belting out, "i threw it all away" (nashville skyline is still one of my favorite albums...). just cash singing june carter's "ring of fire." june carter performing "a good man." neil young strumming "the needle and the damage done." brilliant.

in a word, christmas was - peaceful. i didn't know how much i needed the rest and the family and the break from my life in general. things make sense just enough to go back home. one more day.

hope your holidays are equally as peaceful. don't check your email unless you absolutely have to.

highlights of 2007

2007-12-21T13:46:00.000-08:00

1. i left my 20’s. …for greener pastures called "thirty." and i like it on this side. and i still get carded daily, so there's that.
2. i did at least 4 things i said i’d never do…i’ll let you know how at least two of them pan out.
3. i upped my “up past 2am” record…recent opportunities have pushed my pre-30 tendency to call it a night at or before 10pm…good things can happen in the 2 to 3am window. i can now testify.
4. i stood on african soil…again. but going solo was definitely a highlight…driving a manual transmission automobile from the “wrong side” of the car, drinking copious amounts a great wine, meeting amazing people…all great things.
5. i snuck in a solid amount of adventure…sailing in canada, exploring copenhagen, lounging in san diego, sleeping in my tent in various locations (including my living room) in varying temperatures, countless roadtrips in and around oregon and washington…but more importantly, I never stopped planning the next adventure. i will attempt another trip to africa in ’08, but this time, i’m taking the super-8 camera...
6. i went (a little bit) digital. i got my first iPod (still haven’t changed the playlist – thanks dottie!), i joined facebook, and i received my first props on someone else’s blog. i am slowly creeping into the 21st century. next project is to figure out how to set up RSS feeds…
7. i got kind of corporate. i got a promotion and have an eventual job change on the horizon - with these things came a good chunk of time where i got lost in corporate life and 60-80 hour weeks. thankfully i emerged in tact and with a desire never to return to those dark times. life outside the cube is too much fun.
8. i dug into PDX. one of my most favorite things about this city is abundance of great food & drink – and yes, it’s a highlight because great food & drink means hanging out with great peeps – which I did a lot of this year. this year's fav dinner - toro bravo (beast and yakuza a close second – all in the ‘hood); this year's place to get a cup of joe - albina press ; this year's fav place to get brunch and a bloody mary - gravy...and this year's fav places for grilled cheese (because every now and then you just have to) - rontoms and the paragon.
8. i put my credit card in the freezer. literally, it’s still sitting lonely and cold under a block of ice. and surprisingly, i still managed to live well, eat well and play well. who knew that being financially responsible could feel so good?
9. i chose not to join a convent. it was touch and go there for a little while, but ultimately, i’m pleased with the decision.
10. i made some cool stuff. i pretty much dabble every year. but this year in particular, i developed a new found appreciation for the joy of throwing paint (and steel and wood and newspaper) on canvas…for how surprisingly good it is to cook with brussels sprouts…for the way in which short stories read when they’ve been penned in my journal on a moving train.
11. i loved life & my peeps. and most of all i did this. continually humbled and thankful for having amazing people in my life every single day that love me, care for me, entertain me, make me laugh…and let me do the same right back.

in summary...

2007-12-16T21:12:00.000-08:00

"jeremy?...are you the kind of person it takes time to get to know, then once you get to know them...they're fabulous?"

"yes...yes...absolutely...what?...yes. i love you. no kiss. goodnight. NIGHT!

notes to self

2007-12-14T08:49:00.000-08:00

don't try to be a cowboy with the gas light on your dash. yes, you've pushed well past 20 miles after its gone on before. but your luck could change. like this morning, on the corner of 15th and alberta, mere yards from your apartment door. you will have to call AAA and you will look like an idiot.

think before you speak. stating the truth is always better than couching the truth with snarky comments in a misguided attempt to play the tough guy. you are not a tough guy. you are sensitive. revel in it. it is likely the reason why you have so many great, honest relationships.

change is good. you abhor complacency, but at the same time, you go to ridiculous lengths to ensure certain areas of your life remain risk-free. things change. life is messy - a beautiful mess actually. roll with it. remember the wise words of betsy greene - "don't hassle it." don't pretend you don't want things to change when you really do.

1 small chocolate santa does not constitute breakfast. 2 dirty martinis do not constitute dinner, etc. go to the grocery store soon.

sometimes taking a chance on the "number unknown" coming in on your mobile is a good thing. could be a phone call from africa that turns your otherwise abysmal morning into something...more promising.

macaroni jesus

2007-12-06T16:06:00.000-08:00

the phone on my camera cannot do justice to the current vibe of an apartment now kept lit solely by the glow of my mishapen christmas tree and the flickering of candles. i've spent a few nights watching my tree from under the comfort of down, from my bed, with my bedroom door cracked just enough to let the light in. and when i wake up, its like christmas. i am not regreting the retirement of my childhood ornaments. the

macaroni jesus i made in pre-school doesn't create the feeling of wonder that white lights bouncing off hot pink disco balls does.

just too much

2007-11-26T21:49:00.001-08:00

there is just to many posts that have come and gone on my head that when i actually sit down to post i have nothing.

please end the hunger strike, i will post soon, i promise.

in the meantime, let me leave you with this fun little anecdote from conversations overheard at the counter of cafe rosie...

(said one clearly balding, overly confident, slightly offensive man to his first serious high school girlfriend to whom he hasn't spoken in nearly 15 years) - "so what are you doing now? i've got my own business, six figure salary, the house, the beamer (i know - i am so THAT guy)...i just figured you'd become a nun or something."

many moons

2007-11-06T05:47:00.000-08:00

the hours i have kept of late combined with the darkening of day has left me stealing moments admiring the moon. this particular moon we caught rising above a cobblestone square in copenhagen a few weeks ago. last week i caught the moon from my shower - quite unexpectedly - rinsing my hair looking up at my skylight of absolute pitch black when the clouds shifted to reveal the most amazing white light - but just for a second. this morning. 5:20am on my way to the airport still half asleep and navigating an industrial road now under construction with only a few of the brain cells working sans coffee - caught a sliver of a moon over a neon lit strip club.

####

"O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon, That monthly changes in her circled orb, Lest that thy love prove likewise variable." (Romeo & Juliet/Act 2, Scene 2)

dear joey,

2007-10-22T13:26:00.000-07:00

i am sitting in my hotel room during a particularly stressful time in my young career. and i noticed that the mini-bar has a box of jelly bellyies. okay dude. i tried the buttered popcorn kind because you love 'em - because you used to buy that flavor in BULK. i totally remember us mocking you for it. because seriously - who buys a whole bag of the same flavor of jelly bellies let alone the buttered popcorn flavor kind?

but i'm sitting here all stressed out and nostalgic and i pop a yellow and cream colored little bean into my mouth and get the surprise of a lifetime. joey, those things are disgusting. they taste like what i would imagine burnt hair tasting like. burnt hair with a hint of "i can't believe its not butter." and it takes like 12 different alternative flavors (one that is a tequila-type flavor that does NOT mix well with butter-burnt-hair) to kind of wash the other flavor away but by that time i've already thrown up a little bit in my mouth.

but the instant messages are flying in and i can't really stop to console myself, so instead i just wanted to type you a letter to ask you why the heck you bought those things in bulk. and why oh why did i (at the time) think it was quirky and off-beat and cool?

i hope that wherever you are you're enjoying real candy - like skittles or something more mainstream.

At first glance

2007-10-21T06:25:00.001-07:00

So all the icons on the blogger site are in Danish, so lets see what language I post in...

Yesterday we walked off our jetlag by forging out on to the chilly streets of Copenhagen in search of action. We didn't have to walk far until we hit the shopping mecca - millions of cobble-stoned streets lined with shops and cafes and bustling with people riding bicycles through crowds of people clop-clopping in shoes - shoes, oh good Lord, the shoes. The amazing leather boots, fabulous coats, flowing scarves, brightly colored leggings and short skirts. I am in fashion heaven.

As my only international travel adventures have been in Africa, I had naively thought that shopping in Denmark would mirror shopping in Africa (i.e. most everything is cheap - much cheaper than in the states. What you purchase are the essentials - food, sometimes shelter. crafts). This is most certainly not the case. Everything is roughly 9 times the price of things in the States. So therefore, my shopping in Copenhagen will have to be restricted to the essentials Bicycle rental, beer, and bread. (Though you must know it pains me to be surrounded by all these shoes and be held back by the fact my credit card is in my freezer at home under a block of ice).

I hate wanting for things that don't really matter.

Things that do matter...I got a free ticket to Denmark, and the thought dawned on me yesterday how truly amazing it is to get to be here - work aside. The sky was clear this morning, the air brisk, the fall leaves turning. Last night we walked to a tiny little french restaurant on the canal for dinner - all along the way passing little pubs and restaurants filled with people laughing, toasting - just living. It is just nice to step outside the U.S. and see how other people in the world do the ordinary stuff of life. This was my favorite part of traveling to Africa too - not the wildlife or the tours or that - living alongside people just doing the ordinary stuff of life.

In other news - South Africa won the Rugby World Cup. And to my friends raising a class in Jo'berg and Cape Town today - I toast with you! Congrats!

oh, jeez

2007-10-19T14:29:00.000-07:00

i did it. i reached a major milestone today. i hit "submit" on my timesheet today for an 80 hour work week. holy cow. in approximately 27 minutes i am catching a cab to the airport for a flight to copenhagen. i want to tell you more - about the second date. about life inside the 80 hour work week. about spending the week sleeping in my old bed, in the room i grew up in. about the fact my neice finally addresses me by a name and its "kar-kar." about how much i miss writing. really writing. writing like i used to outside the blog, pages and pages of writing. about the conversation i had with my dad about "im" in the car this morning on the way to work.

mostly, i just want to tell you about stuff. and i want to hear about your stuff. let's do that shall we? how does your november look?

riding shotgun

2007-10-07T20:55:00.001-07:00

i went out on a date tonight. rain and wind and portland october threatening to put a damper on the whole thing. hair all crazy and clothes all messed up. and i didn't care. i didn't want to go. and the whole time i thought about you - how you would tease me and encourage me and push me to go on the date and then plead to hear every detail after. how you would say, "so why are you still single?" and laugh and blame it on some hideous made up imperfection i have like an eleventh toe or something. and i miss you for that. for more than that - but for that. because i feel an odd comradery with you. in the car, in those last few dark and rainy moments before a date - a great date - where oddly i wished i could call you up and tell you about it. thank you for riding shotgun for that brief 10 minutes - whether you knew it or not. thank you for you.

moving in to the 21st century

2007-09-23T21:38:00.000-07:00

and throwing you all off - those of you who think i only post once every three weeks. those of you who check back weekly and roll your eyes when you see the same sad blog entry. i am throwing you off and have done something so totally un-Rosie. no. i didn't eat red meat.

i got the internet. here. in my house. legitimately. not even stealing wireless from my neighbors. so i can work from home. but most importantly i can blog from home.

what's next? internet dating? beef jerky?

a tribute to the season named summer

2007-09-20T08:29:00.000-07:00

we had a few good times summer, but to be quite honest, i won't miss you. you never warmed up like you usually do, and when you did, it was during the middle of the work week, and you just mocked me with it as i sat in my cubicle, sun pouring on to my black rolly desk chair and making the water in my nalgene lukewarm. by the time the weekends rolled around you had mysteriously cooled off, often dumping rain. you made me contemplate such craziness as moving to san diego - knowing full well that i am a northwest girl at heart.

you totally bagged out on your promise that things would slow down at work. you said that my clients and my colleagues would all go on vacation during the summer months and that things would be quiet. i could shop on the internet during work hours sometimes. i could take a lunch away from my desk. you are liar.

but we all are guilty of dishonesty sometimes so i'll cut you some slack - extend you some grace. i will not miss you, but still must give you props for enabling a few fun outdoor adventures this summer.

you somehow managed to produce just the right combination of rain and sun to grow some pretty amazing grapes, which i did enjoy, in the form of both red and white wine. maybe more than i needed to (see photo attached). you made the grass grow greener - and that's always good to sit on when you're drinking wine with friends. so, well, thanks.

but i'm going to have to leave you now and turn my attention to autumn. while autumn still won't likely give me sunny weather, it will be perfectly up front about that. i'll expect the rain and cold and combat any potential depression by donning new black leather boots and my favorite old wool coat.

and autumn has already bought me a plane ticket to copenhagen and tickets to see ben harper at the keller, so, well, autumn wins.

thoughts include:

2007-09-10T10:04:00.001-07:00

it was a weekend of huge life milestones so i feel compelled to capture a few thoughts.

one, my best childhood friend gave birth to a healthy baby boy - her first. welcome shane michael jones - all 8.5 pounds of you - to the world. thoughts include: i am just proud. because we grew up together, keli remains, in my mind, the little girl i went to summer camp with - the one scared of shark attacks when swimming in lakes...and here she is, ushering an 8.5 pound person in to the world and promising to take care of it - forever. amazing.

two, i reunited with five of my college roomies to celebrate that one was embarking on a new marriage adventure. three of said college roomies had infants in tow. the wedding was also a welcome home celebration for the couple who had just returned from a 6 month adventure - the road trip to end all road trips - from n. america, through c. america and into s. america and back.

thoughts include: i am more boy-crazy than i am baby-crazy. the babies made me smile, the video taken from the 6 month adventure - two people clearly in love and in the midst of the adventure of a lifetime - made me cry. so few boys i know would be willing to hop in a truck and set out to tackle such an thing. but i am seemingly incapable of letting go of the idea that it is possible. i cannot sacrifice adventure for anyone. and sometimes i curse that in myself.

three, i celebrated the birthdays of five family members in one evening. thoughts include: my family rocks. they are fun to hang out with...and they lead interesting lives...and they just genuinely like hanging out with each other, which seems like a rarity and a gift these days.

yes, still serving breakfast

2007-08-25T19:14:00.000-07:00

...thinking about adding happy hour too. and for those of you still waiting in line... (there's just a few folks ahead of you, but you're welcome to take a seat if you don't mind sitting at the bar)

just arrived back from a week on the road - to seattle. to vancouver. to the great white north on the sailboat (destination: princess louisa inlet and malibu rapids, site of the young life camp of my sister's and my youth). back to vancouver. to the duty free. and back to seattle. in a few days - back to portland. the annual family boating vacation has come to a close. 5 adults, one toddler, and 36 feet of close quarters - one man's worst nightmare is another's greatest joy. this trip was a joy.

and a few pics with no context whatsoever, simply to tide you over until i can compose myself for more profound recollections...

from the bottom of the well.

2007-08-07T08:41:00.000-07:00

the creative well has apparently run dry. i am working a lot.
i want to move somewhere warm.
i am tired of IM.
i think text messaging while driving should be illegal.
and i am in need of a vacation - bad.

the boys

2007-07-25T09:18:00.001-07:00

i love boys. i always have. i have also hated them, but mostly loved them. and these two boys - george and joey (with wife brynn) - have remained a joyful constant in my crazy ever-changing life.

in my life, i have suffered only two major heart-breaks. joey and george were the boys that at the time, pulled me out of the tank and reminded why boys are cool...and i why i love them and date them...and eventually will marry one.

these pics were taken at joey and brynn's goodbye party - they are moving to nashville (shameless plug for joey's band 'fair'!) so that joey can pursue drumming full time - a life long dream and a huge leap for a boy who we never thought would leave the comfort of the city he grew up with and the crazy amounts of siblings, neices, nephews, in-laws and friends that keep him grounded.

when joey first called to tell me they were going i felt what i think parents feel when their kids learn to walk or win the school spelling bee - it was a pride so deep that it made its way to my throat and came out of my mouth in a croaked "congratulations" behind tears. awesome.

and george. george whom once was as scattered as me...crazy, adventurous, ungrounded (in a good way), and goofy. well...george went ahead and grew up on me. he'll be a new dad in a few months, and i can't imagine how fun it would be to grow up in his house.

you don't likely know them, and i don't think they even know cafe rosie exists...but sometimes i like to provide a snapshot of peeps that make me "me." just remembering them - in this frivolous coffee-break i'm taking during work - makes me smile.

...it was just an amazing evening to have my boys, along with their girls, together for one last fiesta - many margaritas consumed, laughter shared, more margaritas, and then tears.

cheers to boys. and cheers to joey, who will be famous one day, and i can say i knew him when...

park bench

2007-07-17T09:06:00.000-07:00

Is it odd to want to ask a total stranger to sit on a park bench with you?

That’s what I felt like doing – the two times I bumped in to this stranger – both times, all I’ve wanted to do was leave the restaurant we were in and go sit on a park bench somewhere and catch up on life. There is something so familiar and warm about this person that I left the restaurant missing them a little bit – like a good friend that I only had a few minutes to catch up with and then we had to part ways…

Weird how strangers can make you feel like that.

Dirty Thirty in Denver

2007-07-12T10:48:00.000-07:00

“You’re not 30. No. NO. you’re kidding. I thought you were 22.”
“30? Man, the nose piercing takes at least 3 years off your age.”
“30? Shut up. Shut up.”

I am celebrating a few things today – one, I am happily now out of my 20’s, and I feel like I’m heading in to my prime, and people seem to think I look younger than 30. Two, I’m coming off one of the best trips of my professional career. Three, ( Though when the hip-hop act at the club last night started the chant – “When I say ‘Micro’ you say ‘Soft’!” – I knew it was time to go home) I feel content (not complacent mind you) with where I am going...

I had two emails waiting in my inbox this morning from friends in Africa. And I love that. I love my friends of course, but I also love that I have friends in Africa that I really connect with – that for all the pining, for all the yearning and struggling, that the passion I have for that place has seeped its way in to my day to day in the form of relationships that are shaping me and changing the way I look at the world.

The past few days there has been this renewed sense of adventure and passion and a renewed vigor to pursue the things that make me the most me. It’s so easy to get bogged down in the monotony of the day-to-day and the complacency that daily responsibility can shove you in to. But every once and awhile, you gotta dig out. Because there is just a great big world out there, and life is too short to waste it sitting still.

And so there’s that. That’s 30. Today.

chillin'

2007-07-05T10:23:00.000-07:00

it was girls' weekend in pdx and bec and al were in town to soak of the best of portland. what a treat to get my sis and my niece all to myself for the weekend, and to get to be a part of their daily life - to be free of time constraints - an to wake up to two smiling faces in my tiny little abode.

these pics were taken outside the food co-op in NW pdx. i would like to point out that al was at this time eating a falafel sandwich. a falafel sandwich people. this kid is a health-nut. i love it.

#####

and in other random news, yesterday, as you know was the 4th of july. how was it for you? good? did you wave flags and all that? i chose yesterday (94 degree heat and all) to take the old blue cruiser out on the streets for its inaugural summer of '07 ride, and met up with two friends on the opposite side of town at a brewery to enjoy a few pints out on the sidewalk. the ride over was quite pleasant. i felt free - wind in my hair and all that. the brewery was great. lots of laughter, and good people watching. the ride back home (heat + full belly of beer + a bike that was put together by the skilled folks at wal-mart and is now making a horrible rattling noise which can be heard from 10-15 city blocks away) was brutal. note to self - do not repeat.

free box

2007-06-24T17:53:00.001-07:00

one of the beautiful things about life above the food co-op (aside from knowing i sleep mere feet from rows and rows of locally grown organic produce and bulk hummus mix) is the parking lot's "free box." the free box is a box of - you guessed it - free stuff. and it is stuffed to gills on any given day with a fine array of books, clothing, food, housewares and on this particularly fine sunny morning...

a real life, vinyl recording of virginia denison's "yoga for you: modern america's successful approach to yoga exercises."

this is like winning the lottery in the free box world. this little token - this little freebee - is going to revolutionize my relaxation. i can feel it. but it also begs a few questions:

what exactly IS the "modern american successful approach" to an ancient indian art? does it require me to wear fishnet stockings and a leotard like virginia here? up close, it would appear that the approach has something to do with a lifetime of heavy smoking - what if i am not a smoker? oh virginia...share your wisdom...

going, going

2007-06-20T10:31:00.001-07:00

the heart palpitations and the dreams about work have begun. i broke in to the bottle of port i brought back from south africa last night - the one i was saving for a special occasion - simply in an effort to sleep (and to bring back the nostalgia of a what it felt like to be relaxed just a few weeks ago, in cape town). sleeping required turning off the running to-do list piling up in my head. this is life in the world of a girl who was born laid-back and thrust (for better or worse) in to the wonderful world of pr.

three times a year now i get in this crazy space at work around major events where my fingers never stop typing, the phone never stops ringing and i start drinking a bit more than i usually do and my sleep schedule is interrupted by dreams of streaming emails and media coverage gone bad.

and every once an awhile, like right now, i catch my breath and have to laugh at myself. taking all this stuff so seriously as if people are dying or not dying because of it. every once and awhile i come out of the fog, like right now, and i laugh at myself in my cubicle - take a deep breath and resolve to take a long lunch. and i'm pretty sure the world won't end if i do.

South Africa Pics

2007-06-18T10:38:00.000-07:00

Finally getting around to posting a few pics from the South Africa adventure...the following is a little glimpse inside. The little blue rollerskate takes a trip up to Table Mountain. Karin takes a long run out to the Cape of Good Hope and gets distracted by the view and a nice place to sit down. A few grapes from the Groot Constantia vineyard just outside of Cape Town. On the way up Table Mountain from the cable car.

the fam

2007-06-11T09:10:00.000-07:00

in the last few weeks i have stopped spending money on anything but the essentials, and it is really amazing how much more i am packing in to my weekends when they are not clogged up with consuming.

kicked off the weekend with one of my favorite girlfriends - cheap take out, a few bottles of red wine, and a lot of fabulous conversation. rolled out of bed saturday morning to make the soggy slog up I-5 to race with my dad and the boys in the "leukemia cup" - a sailing race to raise money to fund research for a cure for blood cancers (in honor of my grandma, harriet, who despite battling cancer is healthy and still able to outlast me on the dance floor). we didn't win the race, but it was an awesome time being out there in the classic northwest rain, sailing by the space needle, the sculpture park (which ROCKS dottie!), and pike place market and getting to spend some quality time with the boys. sailing with three "older gentlemen" (dad + two of the guys who co-own the boat) i also learned a lot about what is and what is not a healthy cholesterol count as well as received the update on the outcomes of every one's most recent colonoscopy. good times.

sunday we celebrated father's day early, cooked dad a little breakfast, and then just kicked around in our sweats goofing off with alice all morning. she continues to grow in to the most amazing little person - a total ham, very independent, and very affectionate. i taught her how to make a toast (she with her sippy cup and me with my bottomless cup of joe) and say "cheers." i can't wait until we can start the art lessons...it felt good to be part of the daily life of my family this weekend. i haven't lived in the same city with them since i was 17 years old, and i forget sometimes what its like to be a part of a unit...

i made it home from seattle in time to put the portland wrapper on the weekend - feet up on jason's couch watching game 2 of the NBA finals. it really doesn't get any better than that.

ducks and relaxation

2007-06-04T09:51:00.000-07:00

i just couldn't have asked for a better weekend. it was one of those fabulously sunny portland weekends where you can't believe you are lucky enough to live here. one of those weekends where you are fortunate enough to hang out with a lot of quality people in a short amount of time. one of those weekends where nothing feels rushed and you push the good times until nearly midnight on sunday night - squeezing all the last goodness out of it.

we were fortunate enough to get to spend the bulk of saturday on a friend's houseboat reading books, getting sunburned, drinking beer and feeding the passing ducks.

it had been way too long since i had had a weekend of pure relaxation. the kind of weekend without projects or errands and all that grown-up nonsense. it felt good to rest. why don't we do that more often?

crash

2007-05-25T15:39:00.000-07:00

vacation has come to a screeching halt. i am alive and well and back in the U.S. (for those few keeping tabs). re-entry has been less than glorious as i was back at work today facing, count them, 624 new emails in my inbox.

working is for the birds.

i am still wrapping my head around what exactly took place in south africa. my mom sent me a card once (i think it was my mom) that said, "i am not the same having seen the other side of the world..." and i keep thinking about that. i think i was hoping that the journey would soothe the ache i have had to live in africa and to engage with my brothers and sisters there. but it didn't. i just feel thirsty now - that's the best way i can describe it. like someone walked me days and years through a desert and right up to the edge of huge fresh water stream, and then held me back from drinking.

from the moment i landed in in south africa, and for the amazing two weeks that followed there, i could not stop thinking about sudan.

its a shame

2007-05-22T03:37:00.000-07:00

that it is now my final day in cape town, and i have likely lost any hope of gather an audience for this posting. you have now all likely lost hope in regular postings and are off reading more interesting blogs. its a shame. so i'll post to whoever remains i suppose...

as i type my fingers are so cold that it is difficult to stretch them out to reach all of the keys. i am wearing almost all the clothing i brought - in layers. it is winter in africa - can you believe it? it snowed in the eastern cape yesterday. roads were closed. here in the western cape it is just cold. and without heat anywhere - you wear all your clothes inside. who knew?

i'm spending my last day in town hanging out with folks at the warehouse. in a bit, i'm headed out with a few of the guys to go meet with some ex-gangsters and pray over the city. crime is huge here. most people live in want, and the rest live in fear - fear that those in want will take what they have worked to acquire/earn. it is a city of gates. gates on top of gates. locked doors are the secondary wall of protection, set just behind a gate. windows are barred. locals warn of local scams. it is this amidst the incredible hospitality that africa is known for.

this is not rural africa. this is something else entirely.

i have spent the last two weeks simply observing, and i have not yet drawn up any conclusions. but i will say that i have been blessed simply to walk alongside people - and i think i've gotten an amazingly realistic picture of what life in cape town would be like as a resident.

though i am certainly excited to be amongst friends and family in just a few short days, i am conflicted about leaving. i feel like something clicked just this morning, and if i had the opportunity i would stay on. this trip has been hard in so many ways (more on that later), but i feel like i am not finished here either.

i am coming home more confused about where God is calling me to be than ever. but i am coming home with a renewed sense of WHO God is calling me to be.

we're not in sudan anymore

2007-05-13T06:21:00.000-07:00

i have arrived in tact after 37 hours of airplane and airport fun. i am mere minutes away from being booted off the internet, so i will say only for now that it is beautiful here. i am safe and happy and feeling free again.

cheers

2007-05-06T16:22:00.000-07:00

the last time i travelled to africa (nov. 2005) there were thorough communications prior sent to a group of family and friends - each a chapter in a beautiful story leading up to the actual adventure - and there were chapters that followed afterwards. i have not been as conscientious this time. and perhaps that is to your benefit ;) but for all the months and months of yapping about it, i am leaving for south africa this wednesday. at this point, with days and weeks of preparation and planning behind me, i can only say that i am glad that that part is almost over, and that i can say "the day after tomorrow i will be on a place to africa."

i will do my best to do a bit more regular blogging while i am away, but until then, i continue to be thankful for you, my fam and friends. i am eternally grateful to have people in my life who continue to believe in me even when i stop believing in myself.
cheers.

i am stealing this mug

2007-04-24T14:00:00.000-07:00

because for years i've happily sported the original life is good logo on the back of my car - bucking my aversion to bumper stickers and embracing the simple message of optimism backed by a small and friendly t-shirt company that makes fun shirts and frisbees - only to find that texas, once again, is ruining it for everyone.

* in the event the photo is too blurry or you are reading this on your PDA or Smartphone - text reads "Whoever said Life is Good Must have been in Texas."

freak out

2007-04-23T09:31:00.000-07:00

oops. another week slipped by.

a few friends and i braved the rain on saturday and took a drive through the columbia gorge, landing ourselves in hood river for an afternoon of everything-that-is-fabulous - good coffee, a long walk, a few beers, and a burger. yes, i broke away from my gardenburger, no red meat rut and ate my first burger in years - and it was good.

somewhere around saturday night (post movie at kennedy school, which was a perfect way to cap off the day in hood river) a bizarre buzzing set itself inside my chest, and i found myself wide awake at 1am and then again at 6am. sunday the buzzing increased to a steady pounding until at about 8pm, i wanted to cry. this, my friends, i discovered was what the psychologists call anxiety. i am 3 parts elated about the upcoming trip to cape town, but 1 part anxious. and its distracting.

at first i thought that it was because i am forging out alone on this little adventure - but i've done that before. and i like traveling solo - you meet more people - your forced to figure it out on your own. you pick your own itinerary. you are free. but its not the traveling alone. it is how much, at the very core of me, i want to live in africa. and for whatever reason (i hate to say it, but the impending 3-0 may have some sort of subliminal force working on me) i have put too much stock in the possibility of living in SA in particular. and so much is coming together to make that feasible...but still i wonder - what if i hate it? what if it shatters this whole idea i have in my head of living in africa? what if i conclude that living in africa isn't a good fit for me? then what do i spend my time dreaming about? i have wanted nothing more for the last decade of my life. this dream has in many ways become a core part of who i am. and the absence of it terrifies me.

see, and then the pounding in the chest starts.

and then i remember the calm that comes when you just let go. be free. betsy used to always say - "don't hassle it man. don't hassle it." and i realize its two weeks of my life, and there's no need to let it determine anything. "just go and see" is what i hear. and as i write this, i see an email has just come in from my friend Lasu in Uganda...and the pounding stops.

don't forget to feed the cat

2007-04-16T09:33:00.000-07:00

okay, so i've been terrible at keeping up on my blog - and it is my greatest pet peeve when people start blogs and neglect to update them. because this is the purpose of a blog, no? to provide your readers with ongoing insight and points of discussion? blogs are kind of like pets and kids. and i don't have either, so i'm not used to the responsibility of feeding and care.

i will pick up the pace, but until then, just spill a few random tidbits on life over the last few weeks...

i wrote in my journal for the first time in months.
i rang in the inception of spring sitting in the sun on the dock of a houseboat with my girls.
i quietly mourned the series finale of six feet under and began watching entourage.
someone told me i am beautiful, and i'm still kind of reveling in it.
someone pointed out that my TV is old and my stereo is small.
my friend boz got back from six weeks of travel adventures - finding myself dying to talk to him as if by some miracle of osmosis, i can soak up some of the euphoria one feels from such experiences.
i stayed up much too late on a school night to uncork a few bottles of vino and share a meal with friends in apartment beech.

better than christmas

2007-04-04T10:41:00.000-07:00

when i was little, i remember getting this incredible rush of euphoria on christmas that came with the anticipation of waking up on christmas day, knowing that when i woke up (usually at 4am and then i'd just lay there buzzing with excitement until about 5 - the hour i deemed appropriate for people to wake up) that the living room would be transformed in to a magical winter wonderland with a 16 foot christmas tree towering over piles of gifts, and a stocking filled so full that it had to lay on the ground - too heavy to keep hung over the fireplace. it was a ephoria of 'this has got to be too good to be true.'

i don't get that feeling anymore as an adult at christmas. christmas has become something more special, more personal to me, the gifts are no longer a source of euphoria. i have felt that ephoria in passing when i have fallen in love with a boy or two...but that kind of ephoria doesn't last. or at least not yet.

but when i was in my car this week, headed over to bec and scott's house to visit al, i caught myself with that same sense of euphoria i felt as a kid on christmas eve. i literally caught myself and had to pause to figure out why i was so excited. and then i quickly realized it was because i was mere minutes away from seeing this little person - who i've been quite fine without my entire life, and now - all of a sudden - has become this unbelievably important gift.

and just when i think it's too good to be true, i get to the house, and there's al in her full glory, all smiles and saying things like "banana" (which i used to think wasn't a big deal and now i'm the annoying auntie sharing such anecdotes with co-workers and friends - damn kids ;) ) and playing her version of "hide and seek" (which is really just picking terribly obvious locations where she is 99% visible and laughing and screaming hysterically with the thrill of being "found").

she's beats any christmas morning, hands down.

Budget Travel with Rosie

2007-04-03T15:51:00.000-07:00

In my ongoing pursuit of traveling on the cheap, I discovered the Budget Traveler’s Guide to Sleeping in Airports. Taking the advice of one weary traveler, I will avoid the adventure of sleeping in the Lagos, Nigeria airport – “barely avoided a fistfight, witnessed two robberies at knifepoint (by small boys on tourists), were threatened several times, became violently ill on the 'bottled' water, and took turns dozing fitfully for fear we would be attacked by the starving rats fighting for scraps of rubbish." Other helpful advice throughout - but I especially appreciated the detailed maps and guides on which terminals are suitable for sleeping, "In Terminal B there's a great spot to roll out a sleeping bag - just under the stairwell around the back of the McDonald's. No one bugs you there and its smells pleasantly like french fries."

I’ve also managed to secure myself the cheapest rental car on the planet - a two-door hatchback – manual transmission. (Very reminiscent of my first car – loving called the “turd” – it was a brown ’74 honda civic with an orange racing stripe (okay, trim) – and it was roughly the weight and girth of a large roller skate) I imagine this will provide its own set of adventures on the journey given the fact that I have not driven a stick shift in about three years, and to add to that challenge, I will have to drive it left-handed, on the left-hand side of the street.

Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk

2007-03-29T10:01:00.000-07:00

...is one of my fave rufus wainwright songs as well as the pervading theme of the week...

though my age continues to creep up in years and there are moments where i do indeed feel like a real adult (career + vehicle + self-sustainability + responsibility), i continue to find myself in these moments where i feel like a kid (no house + no kids + no spouse + no investments or other adult-type financial planning other than my meager contribution to the old 401K). kid moments this week included:

1) calling my dad at the moment i realized my car was in serious trouble to ask what was wrong with it (adults call their mechanics).
2) crawling in to bed last night with the distinct feeling that someone should know i was going to bed. i felt like calling someone up just to say "i'm going to bed now." it felt suddenly odd to be alone in my apartment (which i love) - just me and the ants - like i was just home alone and my parents would be returning from some weekend trip the next day.

i think that in my head, i've always equated getting married and having kids with "growing up." and as i continue to meet more and more people who are married and have kids and yet i would definitely not consider grown-ups, and i continue to meet more and more single people who are financially secure, own homes, own stock in...um, companies and what not...my definitions of kid and adult are ever-shifting. and so is my definition of myself.

i don't want to be a kid or a grown up. i want to embrace all the great things about being a kid - unabashed creativity + innocence + joy + sense of adventure - but also all the great things about being an adult - life experience + resources to travel & to help others + adult beverages. :)

the travel bug

2007-03-21T17:16:00.000-07:00

....has bit.

i came back from san diego to the joyful realization that i am a mere 7 weeks from hopping a plane to frankfurt, germany and then on to cape town, south africa. and seeing that simple seven week countdown on my calendar stirred in me such euphoria that i’ve been notably distracted from all responsible and productive work or thought. i am now totally focused on selecting a hotel closest to the neighborhood in frankfurt with the largest concentration of night clubs – determined to buck my nearly 30 year tradition of being the first one to fall asleep – and be a disco queen for at least a few nights. i am also painstakingly mapping out every last minute of my time in cape town so as to maximize my time spent with PEOPLE and minimizing my time dragging myself on buses to TOURIST ATTRACTIONS (that said, i have wine and tea tastings planned, but i’m hoping i can drag a few colleagues along and chalk it up to “networking”). i picked out my running routes today.

community

2007-03-18T12:45:00.000-07:00

i've really done nothing. i mean, i've really done nothing with my four days off in san diego if you look at it on paper. and i could not be more pleased with how it all worked out.

i did not go to the zoo. i was in bed by 10 or 11pm every night. i slept in to the resort hour of 8 or 9am every morning.

i did not venture in to mexico. i got my first massage. i went to the mall. i treated myself to dessert.

i did not go to a museum or any other tourist site. i layed in a pile on the couch and discovered the wonder that is TVO. i went on a few long runs at the beach.

i did not take surfing lessons or play volleyball on the beach. i spent time with friends.

and there were long talks and digging in, and simply living in community. and there was laughing. a lot. and for the first time in months, i feel like all is right with the world. how i'd forgetten how important it is to slow down and just BE. be in community and relationships without deadlines and schedules...that, my friends, is the ultimate gift.

and this pic of steve-o and mind was taken at a sushi joint - on the patio during our 1.5 hour wait for a table and a few cocktails under a heat lamp later. this is the snapshot i am taking home with me today...

flipping a few things upside down

2007-03-16T09:12:00.000-07:00

seriously, are you even still reading at this point?

the big work event is over, and i'm resting quietly in the hills of la jolla, sipping on my second mug of joe, barefoot, pig-tailed, and happy to have the morning to myself for the first time in a week. i'm staying with mindy and her family, and i'm beginning to slowly slip in to their routine - if you can call their lives routine...

mindy's dad is a pastor, her mom the pastor's wife and leader within the women's community in the church, and mind is working for a non-profit that is radically changing the lives of at-risk youth through a program that gives them tools to succeed in school and their communities. their lives are rooted in a deep history of building relationships. and being in this house is just an awesome place to stop and rest. its the kind of place where people are always stopping by. there was a german friend in town until this morning - a guy, tim, who blew my perception of germans right out of the water with his constant laugh and incredible humor and his warm spirit. the phone is ringing throughout the day as they usher in and out on the way to and from coffee dates and ministry meetings and church functions.

in the last few days i've been thinking a lot about how structured i have made my life (and i do not think i am alone here). contrary to my free spirit, i have very much built myself a life based on setting boundaries, managing my time to the minute, setting deadlines and making to-do lists. my participation is what is real community is no longer in existence. my interactions with people have largely become transactional - 60 minute coffee dates and happy hours and walks on the river. time at home with family is rarely more than a 24-hour check-in.

i miss - all of a sudden, like i used to miss my sister when she was in the peace corps for two years...that deep ache of missing a person - that feeling i felt when i spent a summer at camp cleaning toilets alongside high-schoolers. when, barefoot and pig-tailed, my agenda and to-do list was simply to be in relationship. to spend intentional time in conversation, dreaming with people, laughing with people, resolving conflicts together, talking about stuff that mattered.

while i realize that life is not summer camp, and that people must work (sometimes 60-70 hours a week), and that we must pay bills...there needs to be a balance. we cannot live solely for ourselves. and we need community.

and as i sit here, getting ready to go grab cup of joe number three, i am thinking about flipping a few things upside down.

alive and kicking

2007-03-07T09:32:00.000-08:00

the blog has fallen by the waste-side these days. if i had time to write, it wouldn't be profound as every inch of my brain is consumed with an ongoing, ever-growing to-do list. friday i leave for san diego for business - our biggest event of the year. my PR prowess boiling down to this. if i survive it, i'll be staying on for a few days of vacation, returning to pdx in a few weeks in a more relaxed and contented state of mind.

i'll keep you posted on progress. i miss you my friends.

a snippet of life at hotel rosain

2007-03-01T17:55:00.000-08:00

I had the opportunity to spend a night at Hotel Rosain (um, Mom and Dad's) this week while traveling for work (a luxury afforded to me when I make trips up to Seattle – one my Father would like to draft an invoice for and sent to my company to see if he can collect compensation. This particular stay lacked the turn down service I’ve come to expect on these visits, and the mint was noticeably absent from my pillow, so I’m looking into a refund).

At breakfast, my Dad looked up from the paper as I was pouring my first cup of joe (I want to co-habitate with someone again just for the sheer joy of walking in to the kitchen every-so-often to an already-made pot of coffee – that, my friends, is pure joy) and says, “So kiddo – have you ever checked out this YouTube or the MySpace?” (pronouncing each term carefully and distinctly as if he were speaking in a different language and wanted to ensure he communicated them accurately). “Yes, Dad. I have checked out ‘the MySpace’.”

And my Dad looks at me and says something about how he just finished reading an article about how “the kids” are really in to it. I love that he said it like that – “the kids.” I love even more that he still sees me, now almost thirty as one of “the kids.” I must be holding on to my youth well.

a good way to start the day

2007-02-26T10:35:00.000-08:00

I typically slip into a catatonic state when I’m traveling on the 6:30 AM flights to Seattle. I’m not usually up for exchanging pleasantries with fellow commuters when I’m operating on five hours of sleep and I’ve yet to sip my first cup of joe. But this morning I was pleasantly surprised to find myself assigned to a seat next to a twenty-something non-commuter in board shorts and flip-flops, cradling a bundle of camera equipment like a newborn baby, on his way to Mexico to shoot footage of Mayan ruins in an attempt to build up his portfolio. Aspiring photojournalist, travel writer, Discovery channel and/or National Geographic staffer…I had no choice but to come out of my coffee-less coma, and engage.

Even more compelling was the fact that he was the spitting image of my friend Boz (also an inspiring photographer and photojournalist and kindred spirit) – same mannerisms, same receding hairline, same smile…same wide-eyed enthusiasm when it comes to talking about traveling. He was so much like Boz in fact, that I found myself chatting away with this guy like I’d known him for years. And he asked great questions.

There were a lot of familiar nods and shared dreams and exchanges of book recommendations. “You know what I want? I want to be able to sit my grandchildren down and have incredible stories to tell them,” he said. “F*&k making money”…”My favorite travel adventure? Probably Mexico. On the beach after a long day of shooting, bruised and bloody…eating chips and salsa and sitting next to a bucket of beer.”…”I took out a loan just to give this thing a shot. If I fail miserably? I’ll work three jobs to pay it off. I don’t care. I had to do this.”

If I was 25, I think I would have fallen in love with him instantly. Instead I wanted to just hug him before exiting the plane. Just like I want to hug Boz. Because I love running in to people who dream big like that. People that sacrifice comfort and security to do something they’re really passionate about.

I called Boz while I was stuck in traffic on the 405 leaving the airport. He was answering phones at a homeless shelter he volunteers at twice a week. He’s one week away from hopping a flight to Asia – knocking “The Trans-Mongolian Railway” off his life’s “To Do” list.

It was a good way to start the day.

its like this

2007-02-22T12:51:00.000-08:00

Its like one of those things where you’re heads down in the thick of it…your brow is all furrowed and causing premature wrinkles that cut across your forehead. Everything is a deadline and a red flag and an urgent request. And you’re thinking it’s who you are, and you’re wondering if the thinking you’re doing is billable. And you’ve got 15 emails open, the red light is blinking to indicate you’ve got voicemails, you’re in the middle of 5 IM conversations…

And then you get an email with an MP3 attached – a silly song a friend made up about you on the fly a long time ago that got recorded – somewhere in Africa in someone’s living room I think. You haven’t heard his voice in over a year let alone thought about the song. And there it is. By the miracle of modern technology, you’ve got him piped in to the headphones plugged in to your laptop. And the emails and IM’s are still flooding in, but at the first note – the first utterance of that voice – you feel like you’re sitting right there in the living room. And then all of a sudden, like a blink, a flash, whatever, you literally feel your feet hit the ground, and you’re you again. Sans cube, sans timesheets, sans title, same location.

Your Weekend Itinerary

2007-02-16T10:33:00.000-08:00

Things I think you should do this weekend

Re-visit U2’s October album.

Go see the New Zealand Indie Film Eagle vs. Shark.

Go for a hike in the Gorge on Saturday. It’s going to be bea-u-ti-ful. Some say 60 degrees. Yeehaw.

Write a letter to the President.

Swap your regular weekend cuppa Joe with the Fair Trade variety if you haven't already done so.

Soak up a little wisdom from one of your favorite writers or theologians – I’m choosing the prophet Bono today…

Distance does not decide who is your brother and who is not. The church is going to have to become the conscience of the free market if it's to have any meaning in this world - and stop being its apologist. - Bono

Grace defies reason and logic. Love interrupts, if you like, the consequences of your actions, which in my case is very good news indeed, because I've done a lot of stupid stuff. - Bono

short stop

2007-02-14T12:53:00.000-08:00

I feel like I SHOULD post something on Valentine’s Day. A rant about how I’m boycotting the holiday. Maybe a shout out to my girlfriends who are my dates for the evening. A few words on why Valentine’s Day is not just for lovers, but to express to those we love and care about just exactly how we feel about them. An essay on why we shouldn’t have just one day reserved for love – a plea for “every day should be a love fest”. But I have nothing to say on the subject that hasn’t already been said. And frankly, I don’t think Valentine’s Day is much of a compelling holiday. I never have been in to it. Single or no.

So, instead, I will just share this…

In the fourth grade, I landed myself my first boyfriend. We “went out” for approximately one month - which in the fourth grade did not actually consist of going out, but rather staying in, talking on the phone – about what I can’t recall because I was still playing with Barbie Dolls in the fourth grade which I hardly think would have been of interest to a nine year old boy. But our romance persisted nonetheless, and it just so happens that it coincided with Valentines Day. And in honor of our short-lived fling, he gave me a slightly deformed stuffed teddy bear (which I named “short stop” – the position he played on his little league baseball team), and I gifted him with the soundtrack to Top Gun.

That, my friends, is love.

Shortly thereafter (likely inspired by listening to the opening track of the album “Take my Breath Away”), he asked me to kiss him underneath the basketball hoop at recess. My nine year old response? “Eat dirt.”

Yes, that’s what I said. “Eat Dirt.” And in what I would later discover is not an uncommon trend amongst adolescent boys, he broke up with me the following day.

To make him jealous, I spent the evening picking out my coolest outfit and braiding my hair to that it would be fantastically curly the next day – my nine year old attempt to show him what he would be missing. My plan was (I suppose) to strut around in my cute outfit like I didn’t care he’d broken up with me. I still remember what I was wearing (it was the ‘80’s, so fluorescent stuff ruled) – a fluorescent yellow sweatshirt that read “JUMP” in big, black font, guess jeans – the kind with the zipper up the sides - white keds with the laces removed, and matching fluorescent socks and head scarf (scarf tied around my HUGE afro of hair made all kinky from my slept-in braids let undone).

While I’d like to say that my incredible fashion sense was enough to reel him back in, it wasn’t. And it took less than a week for him to find a girl to kiss him underneath the basketball hoop, and me about two weeks to realize the biggest loss for me out of the whole deal was the giving up of a perfectly good cassette tape with the Soundtrack to Top Gun on it.

untitled

2007-02-14T08:52:00.000-08:00

i like bob. bob is 60.

2007-02-09T09:39:00.000-08:00

Happy Friday. And a tribute to my Dad, who turns the big 6-0 today.

To my father, who’s gracious response to the desperate requests to borrow money in my early (or late, but who’s noticing) twenties, is “Don’t worry kiddo, we plan to live long enough to be a burden on you.”

To my father who is the life of every party, lord of the dance floor, originator of the white man’s overbite (as evidenced by photo)

To my father who’s favorite film is The Blues Brothers – who’s memorized every line and note and has forced friends and family to watch it at nauseum, while he stands up next to the screen, providing commentary throughout (who needs the commentary from the director on the DVD when you can get this from Dad - “Oh man, you gotta watch this part. Watch it-watch it – yes! There’s BB King! Here he goes…” cue air guitar)

"It's 106 miles to Chicago, we've got a full tank of gas, half a pack of cigarettes, it's dark and we're wearing sunglasses. Hit it."

To my father who sports the classic socks-with-the-teva sandals in the dead of winter (which he claims is very "Northwest") and who supports any purchase I make, no matter now extravagant, so long as I've purchased it at REI.

To my father who is never far from a gallon of Southern Comfort and bottle of Sweet vermouth; the sailor and mountaineer, who’s crossed mountain and sea and lived to tell about it.

To my father, from whom I inherited my tendency to be a ham, and my tendency to steal the mic.

To my father, who’s put up with me for nearly half of his life (as well as done an infinite amount of cool things with his 60 years including being a good person and man of integrity)…here’s to living long enough to be a burden on me Dad. Happy 60th. I am celebrating the day you were born today.

(* I did a google search on "Bob" just for kicks. Among the top picks were the websites for Bob Dylan and Bob Marley. Bob is cool. And apparently Bob is for sale - the top advertisement on the search read: "Bob for Less! Looking for Bob? Find exactly what you want today.www.eBay.com")

Lean Cuisine. Neither Lean, nor Cuisine. Discuss.

2007-02-08T14:38:00.000-08:00

I bring my lunch to work every day because 1) It’s cheaper than eating out 2) I’m a little bit of a health nut (if you discount my alcohol intake, but I generally opt for red wine, which is good for the heart…but then again, not sure when the last time was that I stopped at one glass, so scratch that) and 3) I’m a little bit of a food snob. I work in cube-land, and the restaurants surrounding the office park are abysmal. Applebee’s, Chili’s and Stanford’s are a foodie’s worst nightmare.

So each Monday I tote my weekly lunch supplies to work in my brown paper bag (storing them in the office fridge which I’m sure bugs my co-workers as the bag takes up a majority of the fridge), and make my way to the office kitchen anywhere between 12 and 2pm to cobble together my meal (I’d tell you what I eat, but I promised myself that if I started writing down stuff like what I had for dinner or started describing things like the throw pillows on my couch - I would have to shut the blog down).

And every day, I am met with at least 5-7 co-workers who are anxiously awaiting the use of the microwave to heat up their Lean Cuisines, Smart Ones, or other frozen meals. And I wonder why they do this. Do they know that this isn’t real food? Do they know that all the preservatives and sodium could put them in an early grave (okay, maybe I’m exaggerating) and for what? It doesn’t even taste like real food (“But Karin, have you TRIED the Szechwan Chicken? It tastes just like –“….No, it doesn’t. It might taste a little like Szechwan Chicken at a Chinese/American buffet – is that what you were going to say? ) The following are a few comments I hear from folks regarding why they eat non-food:

· “I’m on a diet.” Um, so am I. I have been since I was 13 years old. My lunch has less calories than yours and is made of real food. And I won’t be hungry in an hour.
· “It’s healthy.” Oh I’m not so sure that it is.
· “I don’t have time to make a lunch.” My lunch took the same amount of time to throw into my cart at Trader Joe’s, but less time to prepare, so I win. And I lowered my risk of cancer-causing rays that you soaked up impatiently tapping your foot in front of the microwave because you’re frustrated it’s taking so long to heat up. Yes, you’re busy.
· “I don’t like vegetables.” Well, then Lean Cuisine is maybe a good option for you. Or yogurt (it comes prepared in its own plastic carton – all you do is pop off the lid, no microwaving required), Fruit (try an apple – you don’t even have to waste time unwrapping it and its like dessert, but better for you), cheese and crackers, peanut butter on an English muffin…geez, what’s wrong with you? Who doesn’t like vegetables? I just discovered Brussel Sprouts – they’re amazing.
· “It’s cheap.” Um, no, its not. Not any cheaper than eating real food. It’s roughly $2.99/per cardboard box full (not on sale). That’s $15/work week for lunch. True, better than eating out. Kudos to you. But my lunch combo totals $13.00/work week. If you’re nice to me, I’ll treat you to coffee.

Let’s do this, people. Let’s boycott the frozen meals. Let’s make lunch pails out of our old Lean Cuisine boxes (click here for instructions on how! http://www.craftbits.com/viewProject.do?projectID=1522) and fill them with real food. Maybe we can support some local farmers in the process? Let’s start a revolution.

*Note 1: I am not a licensed nutritionist. Though a friend did ask me to provide him with a list of high-fiber/high-protein foods once. I think that the fact that he asked indicates I am some sort of authority on the subject. (ha)
*Note 2: Don’t get me wrong, hospitality and necessity will always triumph over the foodie in me. I value sharing a meal in the home of a good friend more than anything else. And there is nothing more pleasurable than the breaking of bread with strangers in foreign countries – even when it involves meat whose origin is unknown.

lets play hookey and drive to yosemite

2007-02-05T11:21:00.000-08:00

so my friend luke turned the big 1 this weekend. and i made the trek out to the 'burbs (gasp) to commerate the event with the whole johnson clan and the traditional "look-at-that!-he's-got-cake-all-over-his-face!-isn't-that-sooooo-cute?" photo. i wasn't going to post it, but the look on his face is priceless. this was a good 10 minutes in to the show, and i think that the sugar coma was beginning to set in.

####

if you get a moment today, check out ansel adams' "Moonrise, Hernandez, New Mexico, 1941." i ventured up to the world forestry center yesterday to catch the last day of his show, and to spend some time with the trees. of all the photos mr. adams has snapped (the many, many he's taken in yosemite sparked a northern california road trip a few years back that included a hike up upper yosemite falls for a long-awaited real-life view of half-dome), for some reason, i spent a lot of time standing in front of this one. the internet does not do it justice of course, but you get the idea. i bet that sleepy little village in hernandez has got a few good stories.

the beginning of the winter of snow shoe

2007-02-01T14:25:00.000-08:00

as i've reiterated a million times, 2006 was the Summer of Tent, and 2007 was supposed to be the Winter of Snow Shoe. while the holidays forced a later start than we would have liked, we did indeed kick of the season - and picked an unusually gorgeous weekend to do it.

here's a few shots from last weekend's snow shoeing adventure i felt like revisiting today on this fine thursday. nothing much beats blue sky and snow-capped mountains. though on the subject of beauty in the ordinary stuff of life...i do love the image here of tracks splayed out all crazy like on the open field of snow. what i love even more is that this is a section of the trillium lake loop on mt. hood that is rarely inhabited by kids - revealing that apparently, adults still know how to play. and playing is important.

burnside bird nest

2007-01-31T14:45:00.001-08:00

Jason snapped this pic outside the Roseland Theater on Burnside (where I once stood 10 feet from a sweat-drenched and beaten-down Bob Dylan). And I wanted to post it - because its beauty in the ordinary stuff of life. (And for the more pragmatic of you that see nothing but concrete and building (or those with a tiny computer screen) – that black mass in the tree to the right is a bird nest. And that bird nest has me thinking…

Burnside St. (where I’ve walked countless miles from record stores to bars to karaoke to sushi to cheap movie theater to greasy spoon to best margarita…you get the picture) runs east to west, and its intersection with the mighty Willamette forms the infamous quadrants of PDX – SW, NW, NE, SE – the compass by which most Portlanders define themselves. Follow it west, and you’re up in the west hills with the rich kids. Follow it east and you cross industrial areas inhabited by more economical live-ers…keep going and eventually you’ll run right in to Mt. Tabor – haven for hippies, dogs, boxcar racers and frisbee throwers. Burnside cuts over the Willamette River via the Burnside Bridge. The bottom side is home to the homeless, to drug dealers, to addicts, to art, to its famous Saturday market that draws in tourists from all over the world.

There is just a lot of living that happens on this street. But a lot of real good stuff – the beauty amidst the ordinary - goes unnoticed because we’re so busy living in it. We’re walking on the concrete and we’re going to shows at the Roseland, and we’re too busy to look up and see what’s really going on. I’ve been thinking about that a lot this week – this picture, and the quiet beauty of nature doing its thing, like it has for thousands of years – despite all we plant and build around it. Beauty sitting next to the dried up gum on the street – next to poverty, to addiction, to the reality of city life. ALL of life I suppose.

Jason’s a city dweller and an observer of life there and his pics are full of these kind of gems. The world becomes a very different place when you start noticing this stuff. And not that I’ll ever cease to long for overseas adventures or cease to get restless after too many weekends at home in PDX…but this pic just reminds me that there is something extraordinary underneath the deceptively ordinary. And maybe I don’t need to be so hell bent on fleeing Portland to find it.

friday sauce

2007-01-26T16:36:00.000-08:00

What better way to kick off the Friday than with a G. Love and Special Sauce hangover? It’s been entirely too long since I embarked on the adventure of live music – and I picked a good show to make my grand re-entry. Matt Costa opened, G. Love was brilliant, and we were close enough to see sweat and feel the thump of drums in our chests. There was a moment though, when it became abundantly clear that I am getting old – it was the point where I looked at my watch and saw midnight on the rise, noticed the kids in front of me breakout in a full on make-out session, and immediately made the executive decision to bail. And the show wasn’t even over.

Hoping to make a come back over the weekend to contribute more rockstar worthy tales in days and weeks to come. I depart to kick off the weekend with my girls, bottle of wine and friday "sauce" in tow.

Cheers

It’s been a long time since I heard the name Jesus spoken at the dinner table

2007-01-24T11:08:00.000-08:00

Last night a dear friend hosted a small dinner party for a few of us. Fresh from a year working as a diplomat in Rome – he spoiled us rotten with amazing (and abundant) wine, an incredible pasta dinner (how refreshing to boldly toss aside the current popular American fear of carbs) served on beautiful Italian pottery, post-dinner espresso, dark chocolate and cheese. We sat cozied up to the kitchen table, fire place burning, and got to know one another. A lot of the discussion was focused on Jesus. More specifically on his ministry of reconciliation and caring for the poor…which spiraled in to dreams of adventures overseas, and discussions on what it is that gets us out of bed in the morning.

I sat with people who are so totally passionate about living out Jesus’ example of peace and heart for the poor, that it’s led them to India, East Africa, the Middle East, Las Vegas, and even Iowa. Ordinary people, doing extraordinary things (like humanitarian work in North Korea, like hanging out with the President’s daughter working with orphans and AIDS patients – a trip the media never captured) simply because they are compelled by the powerful teachings of Jesus and take quite literally his instruction to his followers to “love your neighbor as thyself.”

It wasn’t talk about religion. It was talk about how to care for orphans and widows and how to make that a reality as a person of privilege (and by “person of privilege” – I’m thinking of us sitting eating this elaborate meal, warm, and free from fear and loneliness at the moment– we are privileged and have been given much).

And it wasn’t a conversation that left me with a warm fuzzy feeling. Nor was it a conversation that led me to the radical conclusion that I should sell all my worldly possessions and give to the poor. It was just a conversation that left me quietly uncomfortable – in a good way if that makes sense. It was just nice to be around a group of folks engaged in dialogue about things that move me. And it was refreshing to hear Jesus’ name spoken at the dinner table out of the context of religion or rhetoric, but rather as a man – an individual with revolutionary ideas powerful enough to continue to change the world.

twenty-four hours in seattle

2007-01-22T09:43:00.000-08:00

i attempted to capture the excitement of alice ann turning the big 1 in the above photo. but she was too busy to stop and pose. she is running now – its crazy. on her 1st birthday she ate lentil and veggie stew, but turned down the chocolate cake. hmmm…

the fam and I ventured out on a sunny seattle saturday to the grand opening of the new Olympic Sculpture Park on the waterfront. my cousin dottie worked on chunks of the landscape design (we think she’s quite brilliant) – so it was a cool opportunity to see where she’s been spending so much of her time the last few years – and a cool opportunity to reconnect with seattle and enjoy the new art installation. i snapped this pic of one of my favs – a stainless steel tree – sans bird, but just as realistic…somehow more magical. permanent.

other things not captured on film. the receipt of my first iPod shuffle – “gerald ford” – gifted to me by my more tech-saavy cousins who’ve long since upgraded to the ‘nano.’ gerald ford (iPod) ran in the portland marathon this past october and is loaded with a library full of music i already love, so i can happily postpone actually figuring out how to USE the thing until I get sick of the selection – which I don’t foresee happening for at least another few months. thanks r&d!

and six hours in my car contemplating life’s mysteries. more on my dreaming later. my inbox awaits.

the oregon coast in winter + surfer rides again

2007-01-18T08:47:00.000-08:00

cliff notes

2007-01-17T09:32:00.000-08:00

note. There’s a young man in the coffee shop I’m working at today. He’s wearing his pajamas and a floppy sheepskin hat with ear flaps. He’s weaving in and out of French and English in a phone conversation about overcoming grief and moving to Maine.

note. There was a four alarm fire in a house with sixteen inhabitants down the street last night. In my exhaustion I never work up. I heard about it on the news this morning and walked out to see a winter wonderland and the lights from the fire trucks twirling on a snow-covered street. What once was home is an empty blacked-out shell. I heard that two women died in the fire. The neighborhood feels likes it’s mourning today.

note. I’ve traded heels for red gardening clogs and my cubicle for a corner table in the coffee shop next door. The snow is four inches deep on the top of my car still, and it’s not warm enough to melt. I miss the days when I was little and snow meant a free day to play. All the kids I play with don’t live within walking distance, and the snow is too treacherous to drive in. We all have laptops now anyways and have been forced to work from home or neighboring coffee-slinger. I am having an incredible urge to power down and go outside and play kick the can with the folks waiting at the bus stop.

note. Last night I went on a long walk in the snow and enjoyed the silence of a city gripped by the fear of driving in snow. The snow is still good as not many have ventured out, and the street lights revealed a new old city.

and…..we’re picking up steam

2007-01-12T14:01:00.000-08:00

there are few things in life more enjoyable that happy hour at the brazen bean. a $4 ginger martini at a hh that lasts until 9pm (mmmm, happy) is as close to euphoria as…um, something else less cool that inspires the feeling of euphoria. its relaxation wrapped in thick glass stemware. even more enjoyable – the abundance of laughter and stimulating conversation over hh - oddly more stimulating after my bar tab had reached $8. But i digress…

other things that are enjoyable:

kicking off the weekend at everyday wine
a good brow wax
researching the next travel adventure in south africa
dipping my toes in the ocean in january
and cooking dinner for friends

all of which are on this weekend’s agenda. cheers to you and to friday