Last week, as I discovered as the week progressed, was a large disappointment compared to the week before that. Now, since I can practically hear a chorus of brows furrowing, it’s not that the week was particularly bad, but after the previous week of my boss being out of town just about anything is a disappointment. He took his yearly vacation at the Grand Canyon this year, and since he was out of email, phone, and general harrassment range, we found here at work that not only were we able to get our tasks accomplished on time but that we could handle just about anything that came up. And since the big bossman wasn’t around, we had plenty of opportunity to talk during the day instead of pretending to look busy.

So yeah, it was pretty much back to normal last week. Which is fine in the end, but not nearly as good.

Let me go back a bit, though. The Friday before last (sounds like a prequel to a bad movie) I met Erika at her apartment after work and Happy Hour with my coworkers, and after a nice dinner prepared by Erika’s roommate, we drove over to a trendy little bar on Powell called the C-bar where the roommate’s boyfriend? lovetoy? was playing with his band that evening. The music was OK–they can play their instruments well, but they don’t have much good material to perform–the beer selection was pretty lousy, and the house drinks all had sake in them, giving them an odd taste. Now, I’m not one to judge a bar solely on its drinks, but honestly, who runs a bar in Portland and doesn’t at least have a couple of local brews on tap? Full Sail Amber. Bridgeport IPA. Widmer Hefeweizen. ANYTHING! Even the more traditional non-Portland brews–Fat Tire, Mirror Pond, Black Butte Porter–were missing. I found that the most bitter beer they had on tap was Boont Amber Ale from California, which ironically I’d bought a bottle of the previous week because I’d never tried it, and I stand by the assertion I made then that it’s one of the weakest-tasting beers I’ve ever had.

Beer selection criticism aside, I had a pretty good time. The bar had a TV going with a DVD player hooked up and subtitles on, which is something Dan and I tried at college once one Blender Night. While we whipped up drinks and drank with our friends and had loud music going, we had running on my computer just for ambiance. The bar ran Kill Bill, Volume 2 and The Matrix while I was there, so I can’t fault them for movie selection, either. It was a nice touch, and if I ever ran a bar that would probably be something I’d do.

That Saturday night I made dinner for Erika. She’s still on her diet to lose just a couple more pounds, but naturally since she’s so close to her goal she’s been eating a few things that are counterproductive to her goal. I ended up making chicken that was originally intended to have a lemony-garlic sauce on it, but I couldn’t get the sauce consistency right I ended up sauteeing the chicken that wouldn’t cook right on my indoor grill in the sauce. On the side we had steamed broccoli with good old Uncle Ben’s long grain and wild rice. Not gourmet, but as close to it as I could make it.

The rest of the weekend passed uneventfully without incident. So why was last week bad? Well, as I already said, it wasn’t bad, just not as good as the week before it. It ended on a fantastic note, though. Friday I got two good pieces of news that raised my spirits and made the rest of the week completely worth it. The first came in the form of a phone call from Erika who had just discovered where her permanent home at the credit union she works for will be when they finish the merger with another credit union. Currently she’s working over on the east side of Portland on Powell, not too far from her apartment, actually, and she’s filled in at the Lloyd Center branch, as well, but they bigwigs are going to palce her at the downtown location.

That is, the downtown location that’s exactly one block from where I’m sitting right now.

I’m very excited about that. I’ll get to see her for lunch, and even if we don’t eat out we can still walk around Portland, sit and have a cup of coffee in the morning in we choose, etc. It’s going to be very nice for us. What will benefit Erika alone, though, is that she can start taking the bus to work from her apartment, or bus and MAX from my apartment if she stays the night there. It’s quite easy, and it’s likely that her employer will pick up at least part of the cost of a monthly pass every month. It’s quite a money-saver as I’ve discovered–but of course, the money previously spent on gas goes into other funds now.

The second piece of good news I received on Friday isn’t worth discussing here for a variety of reasons. It doesn’t involve me directly, but it was important enough that it made me happy and I told a bunch of people already. In any case, between those two pieces of good news were enough to make me buy my Dad lunch on Friday at the Rock Bottom Brewery, so we sat out in the sun and had a couple of brews.

The weather here has been phenominal for the last week. It’s been in the 90′s for the last few days, and it’s going to hopefully stay hot and sunny as the week goes on. Friday night Erika joined us for Happy Hour after work, though since she gets off work so late she’s only able to catch teh tail end of things. Hopefully when she’s downtown she can join us earlier and more often. Two of the three new employees we just hired joined us, too, so so we had a pretty big group, and we used up a full table at Ringlers–my suggestion for Happy Hour. There were some rumblings about going to Ringlers from the regular Happy Hour patrons as the week went on, but I managed to convince them that since A) we hadn’t been to Ringlers in ages, B) it’s easier for Erika to get to Ringlers and she was definitely coming, C) they have the best Happy Hour menu, and D) they have the big tables, Ringlers was the place to go. Of course, I joined the chorus of people thinking how nie it was outside, but I can’t think of any place near my office that would comfortably seat nine people without blocking sidewalks.

I did have to do a pretty careful dance about Ringlers, though, not only since some of my coworkers don’t care for McMenamins as much as I do, but because the frequency of McMenamins visits are starting to wear thin on Erika. Truthfully, they do on me sometimes, too, but since I always know what I can expect it’s like a food safety net. Call it “Andrew’s McDonalds” if you will. It also didn’t help that I dragged her to a McMenamins on Saturday too, but it was a special occasion of sorts. My good friend Michiko was in town for the day, and I had been trying to figure out what to do that evening when I came across a mention of a brewfest at one of the McMenamins locations. I brought it up with Erika and she seemed somewhat uninterested, but I offhandedly mentioned it to my Dad and he jumped at the idea, decided to bring my grandmother, mentioned it to Heather, and by then it had become a big old family/group thing. Michiko liked the idea, and so Erika pretty much went along with things.

Don’t worry, Erika. I’m sure you’ll get your revenge somehow. Or I’ll make up for it somehow, either way. In one final bit of irony, though, Erika has planned out some of our activities for this upcoming week, including a trip out to Edgefield, the McMenamins in the Columbia River Gorge. In all fairness, though, the trip was her Mom’s idea, but it was Erika’s for us to tag along.

Saturday night was a blast, though. Eight different McMenamins breweries brought eight special brews that had been done just for the brewfest and you can’t get elsewhere. I like one-of-a-kind beers. There was live music until 11 PM, outdoor seating, a dance floor, you name it. All in all, a good time was had by all. And yes, I tried all eight beers, but Heather drove home. It sure beat the Portland International Brewfest that was going on this past weekend in downtown Portland–that shindig cost $20 to get into, and for that amount you got the mug and 10 tickets. Each beer cost 1-3 tickets for a 4 oz. sample of the beer. At the McMenamins brewfest, each pint was two tokens, and a half pint could be had for one token. Fortunately, the bartenders were serving more like 10-12 oz. for a single token, so I really got my money’s worth. Well, actually Erika’s money’s worth. I found myself without funding for the cash-only beer, and so she generously loaned me $15. I’ve got the money to pay her back in my wallet right now, so I won’t draw it out like some individuals to whom I currently owe money….

Sunday was excruciatingly hot, but Erika, Michiko, and I drove up to the Rose Garden so Michiko could eyeball some of the places she’s thinking about getting married, like the Shakespearean Garden there within the Rose Garden. Note, however, that her boyfriend has yet to propose to her, though it seems to be a certainty. After she got to look at a few of the places in person, I just tossed her onto a red line MAX going to the airport, though up until this morning I had the nagging feeling that I put her on a train going the wrong direction…no, I don’t think I did. Or did I?

My Mom forwarded me an article last week and she commented that she hoped I’d tackle it in my blog, but instead I responded to her email and addressed it privately, though I think I’ll mention some of my thoughts here, too. The original article can be found at http://www.commondreams.org/views05/0711-03.htm.

For those too lazy or uninterested to read the source article, allow me to sum up the author’s perspective: London was attacked by terrorists because of their involvement in Iraq.

Now, my response to that: Duh.

I took some issue with the article because the author makes a few assertions that are incorrect or premature. Firstly, he states that one of the reasons why terrorists are so upset with Britain and the US is that 100,000 civilians have died in Iraq, and that figure is grossly incorrect. The 100,000 number was estimated by a Johns Hopkins study last year, I believe, though their statistical method, even coming from the perspectie of my one college course in statistics, was really, really bad. 100,000 was the median estimated deaths with a margin of error of 92,000. That means that the total deaths could be ranging anywhere from 8,000 to 192,000! Naturally, of course, the median must be correct. All the other estimations I’ve seen put the total number of dead to be closer to 25,000-30,000–which is still a significant figure, but tossing around that bad 100,000 number doesn’t do anyone any good.

It’s like the old saying that falling coconuts kill more Americans every year than shark attacks. Has anyone ever bothered to verify that? Or is that just one of those things everyone says and we take it at face value because it’s so absurb it must be true?

Secondly, based on the author’s assertion, the bombings were the direct result of Britain’s involvement in Iraq. Now, that I have no trouble believing given the rhetoric that I hear quoted from Islamic-extremist terrorist groups around world, but there’s been no credible evidence that I’ve seen published yet saying that the bombers were foreign nationals. As a matter of fact, the theory that was being tossed around as early as last weekend based on evidence was that the bombers were most likely British (in nationality, at least, probably not ancestory). The bottom line is that no one can possibly know the motive of the bombers–well, the motive was clear, but you know what I mean–until the bombers are identified. Remember Oklahoma City? When the bomb went off and destroyed the federal building there, reporters were tripping over themselves looking for the foreign connection and trying to figure out who could have been responsible. When the bomber and his conspirators were eventually identified–all white, Christian, Americans–there was probably a collective scratching of heads. Wait, hadn’t a similar method been used to bomb the World Trade Center a couple of years before? And these guys weren’t Arabs?

In London, I see officials saying the attacks had “all the hallmarks of an al-Qaida attack” before they’ve even retrieved all the bodies. To me, that’s just plain sloppy and serves no purpose other than fear-mongering.

The other issue I wanted to write about is Karl Rove, who has now been identified by Newsweek as the individual who leaked the identity of the undercover CIA operative two years ago. I really have nothing of substance to say of this topic other than it’s illegal, and I sorely hope the White House doesn’t close ranks and protect him. It seems pretty cut and dry to me and I don’t have much faith in this government at the moment, but then again, if Bernie Ebbers can get a 25 year stay at Club Fed, hey, anything’s possible.

In lighter news, my grandmother is now in town on a permanent basis! She sold her house, packed up all her stuff (well, my Dad did most of it), and now she’s here in Portland living with my Dad. It will be nice having her around and being able to see her more often than the once or so a year it’s been for the last ten years or so. Last Tuesday night I went over to my Dad’s after work and I helped unload the truck, mostly helping to carry off the big, heavy stuff that he couldn’t get alone. The hard part is, of course, unpacking all the boxes and finding places for everything in the house, but things are slowly looking better. Sunday night, Heather and I drive over there and had dinner with my Dad and grandmother as sort of a “welcome to the neighborhood” thing, even though we’d both seen her Saturday night. we’re thinking of having her and my Dad over to the apartment at some soon point so she can see where Heather’s been living for the last four years and where I’ve lived for the last year and a half.

That’s about it for my week/end. Another week ahead of me, but I’m sure I’ll make the most of it. So long.