Felicia gave me beer for doing yardwork. Awesome. Not beer I would have gone out of my way to purchase on my own, but I have to say, free beer rocks.
All my beer should be free beer. Any takers?
Monthly archives for April, 2007
Barley Millish
I woke up Tuesday morning very tired and very disoriented from a night of strange dreams. I don’t remember more than just flashes of pictures and emotion, and I’m always amazed at how some dream images can stick with you. Water. Falling. Fire. Mysteries. Fighting. Surprisingly, even given images such as those I wouldn’t categorize my dreams last night as “bad,” just…odd. I drank coffee to attempt to alleviate the sleepy part of my morning, but a night of strange dreams just funks up the rest of your day.
Friday after work I had tried to arrange a get-together with work people at numerous people’s requests, but in the end it was a pretty low turnout–some of the people who had requested the get-together didn’t even come! How odd. Regardless, I had a couple of drinks and some bread, and then I rode the bus across the river and snagged Hanne along the way. Given that it was our six month anniversary on Friday, we should have done something a little more interesting than riding the bus up to the new Belmont Station Bier Cafe, but with her parents in town I didn’t know what her plans for the night would be, so I planned nothing of my own. That night they ended up going out to Beaverton to see family friends, so it worked out well for us.
No flash and substance to our anniversary dinner, but we sat up in the new Bier Cafe in front of big windows, laughed and talked, and drank a beer or two, ate a couple of sandwiches. It was a nice time, even if we weren’t being waited on and paying and ungodly amount of money for specialty food like an anniversary dinner should be.
After dinner, instead of waiting for the bus we walked all the way back to my apartment–and beat the bus, nonetheless. I wasn’t really excited about walking 28 blocks while carrying my bag, my laptop (which I’d taken to work in anticipation of having to wait for people to join me after work), and two 22 oz. bottles of beer I snagged at the Belmont Station bottle shop, but Hanne and I traded off carrying the bag. I didn’t actually ask her to carry it…she just got tired of my griping and carried it for a ways to shut me up.
Today is “Administrative Professionals Day” at the firm. That’s “Secretaries Day” for you non-PC types, and “Staff Appreciation Day” at my firm in particular. Instead of flowers for all the legal assistants or whatnot, the firm pays for the entire support staff to go out to lunch, both food and time. Last year was a nice lunch at The Melting Pot, a fondue restaurant downtown, this year was a meal at the Portland City Grill, a nice place on the 30th floor of the US Bank Tower downtown. Great views. Expensive food.
I had a malted, hoppy beverage with my lunch, despite the presence of the HR Manager. What can I say? I’m a rebel and it’s Staff Appreciation Day. I deserve a break. Well, perhaps “deserve” is too strong a word, but let’s just say that I saw other people doing it so I didn’t fear any sort of retribution. Last time I was due for a talking to at work, I got passed over and someone else bore the brunt of management’s anality. Is that even a word? I claim rights if it isn’t. Regardless, I may have overstepped my bounds, but someone else who also did got the talking to and I was ignored. All the better for me, but I dislike double standards like that.
Wait, no I don’t. I like double standards that work in my favor.
I took Monday off from work since I have a fair amount of sick time and I wasn’t feeling up to going to work. It was both physical and psychological, so it’s not like I was just blowing off work to screw around, even if that’s exactly what I ended up doing for most of the day. I had been up until past midnight Sunday night after the concert Hanne and I went to, and I just couldn’t motivate myself to get up on time Monday morning. So I slept in, got coffee and a scone from Floyd’s a few blocks away, and was pretty productive all day. I cleaned up my apartment, I did yardwork, I cleaned off the driveway, I went for a run, I walked up to the grocery store and back. I didn’t have to take a day off to do all those, necessarily, but it didn’t hurt and I didn’t want to waste a sunny day with 65 degree weather.
Ah yes, the concert that kept me up. Air is a spectacular band, and I’ve loved their music from when I first heard the album “Moon Safari” before I went off to college. Wonderful music. I didn’t hear the term “trip hop” until this year, but I believe that accurately describes their sound. Very melodic, very unique. As I was struggling to find a Christmas present for Hanne last year, I came across the idea of giving her “Moon Safari,” their first album. It turned out to be very well received, and it was her idea to go Sunday night in the first place. Awesome. I would say I created a monster, but Air is just too damned good to say such a thing.
They ended the concert with the first song off “Moon Safari” with an over-the-top version. Loud, intense, clothes-rattling. I wanted more.
As we were waiting for our bus to go back to our side of the river, I saw this woman who looked very out of place for a show at the Crystal Ballroom: heels, skirt, shawl, very made up. She looked like she’d probably spent more than an hour getting ready. That’s not out of the ordinary, necessarily, but for a show at the Crystal? Out of place. I mentioned to Hanne that she looked sort of like a princess (not the royal kind, I meant it as a pejorative of sorts), both from her outfit and from her apparent demeanor, and we got a good laugh as she stormed passed us and her…companion…could be heard to exclaim whilst chasing after her “Pumpkin, for real!” I don’t know what exactly that meant, but we laughed so hard at that. He called her a cab and she got in with her heels and her skirt and her shawl and she drove away with the scowl on her face.
For real.
Heh.
After seeing Air, I’ve now attended shows by six of my top eleven most-listened-to-artists, as according to Last.fm. Others I haven’t gotten around to seeing, and The Beatles might be a tad difficult to see. Maybe I can get credit vicariously through my parents? Probably not. I think that’s a wash, but I can always hit the other four at some point: Moby, Dandy Warhols, Beck, and Barenaked Ladies.
The Virginia Tech shooter had no video games on his hard drive, and he was never seen to play games in college. As selfish as this sounds, I’m glad that something I enjoy won’t be re-raked over the coals and blamed for the deaths of 33 people. I feel a combination of guilt and anger when video games get blamed for tragedy, both because I know that at the very least they’re contributory and at the most people like Jack Thompson are associating me with a killer. As far as he’s concerned, I’m as culpable in their deaths as the shooter was because I condone video games. Enjoy them even.
I’ll be happy if a debate about gun control comes out of the shooting. My stance on gun control is…convoluted. On one hand, I believe that the public has a right to bear arms. On the other, I don’t see why people need to own fully automatic weapons. I’ve read vicious editorials about laws like the Brady Bill which I was sad to see lapse, calling it unconstitutional and an assault on our rights. Honest to god, I can’t think of any use for a fully automatic weapon in any scenario. Defending yourself? And a pistol won’t do the trick? Hunting? Don’t you want something of the animal left?
This country was founded upon revolution and people rising up against a tyrannical government, and taking away citizen’s rights to bear arms means such a thing could never happen again.
Disclaimer: I’m not condoning revolution against the sitting government. I prefer my violent revolutions to be against tyrannical, fascist dictators, and my political revolutions to be against people who I just think are idiots.
Additionally, I see a legitimate need for people to have firearms for jobs (police, security, etc.), lifestyle (sport hunting), and welfare (food hunting). But do they have to be cannons?
I didn’t think so. Although…I could use an M16 for when the zombies rise and begin invading our homes in their never-ending craving for human flesh. I’m willing to compromise and settle for the use of a shotgun in that endeavor, though.
Hanne and I look pretty silly sitting here in McMenamins, both with our laptops and beer. I think that’s my cue to call it quits.
Ramblings and rantings
I had to get out of work today before anyone asked me to do anything else. I had the distinct displeasure today of dealing and butting heads with two people who I generally dislike and typically stay off my radar. Occasionally, however, I have the misfortune of stepping up to the plate and actually, you know, doing my job. What a crock.
Regardless, I left a few minutes early to meet my Dad here at the Market Street Pub, a McMenamins that’s usually off my radar given its location. I don’t make it up to Portland State University too often these days, though back at my old job I came here once or twice with my Dad for lunch. We split a pitcher, talked of Vichy France, World War II photographers, the agenda-pushing following the Virginia Tech shooting, and the number of Regent University grads currently serving in the Bush administration.
Never heard of Regent? Neither had I until Monica Goodling resigned a couple of weeks ago. It’s the school that Pat Robertson started in 1977. I have to be frank, first of all: I don’t like Pat Robertson. I don’t mind that he and I don’t share theological values–after all, there are a great number of people I respect who I don’t share religious beliefs with–I don’t like the position he takes on things, I don’t like the blame he lays when natural disasters strike (for example, Katrina was punishment for America’s tolerance of gays), and…well…I just don’t like him. He’s the worst kind of person cliaming to be a Christian: bigoted, narrow-minded, and just plain mean.
When people started to dig into Goodling’s credentials, I encountered a story that shocked me. According to both outside journalistic sources as well as Regent University itself, there are currently 150 graduates serving in the Bush administration. 150 people. That’s about 10% of the total number of people in the Bush administration.
Now, I have to be honest about something else: I couldn’t care less about a school’s religious affiliation. I’m not much of a religious person myself, but as I said, it doesn’t immediately discredit someone, even if they go to a school with a motto of “The nation’s academic center for Christian thought and action.” Notre Dame is a well-respected religiously-affiliated college, and Brigham Young is nothing to sneeze at. The problem I have with Regent, though, are the number of graduates found in the Bush administration.
Oh, and the School of Law. It’s a 4th-tier law school that was denied accreditation until 10 years ago after repeated denials. It’s literally at the bottom of the rankings of quality of the 130-odd law schools in the United States. No respected law firm would let a gradate of a 4th-tier law school through the door, so riddle me this, Batman:
Why is the Department of Justice hiring lawyers from a law school that’s that bad?
My assumption was that it had something to do with cronyism. I see that as a real possibility. My Dad, however, put a different spin on it. Maybe the bar is set so low for civil service these days that anyone can step over it. Someone from the bottom of the barrel can rise to such a high position in the Department of Justice, even having graduated from a law school that would get you laughed out of any major law firm in the country.
On the other hand, Goodling did know enough about the law to plead the 5th when testifying. I also chuckled when I saw that she hired a lawyer who wasn’t from Regent when she was subpoenaed to appear before Congress. Kind of ironic, in its own “rain on your wedding day” sort of way.
Hanne should be well into her oral argument at the courthouse by now. Her brief that she wrote and had me proofread was well-written and well-researched as far as I could tell, but then again, I don’t know jack about the intricacies of the law. That’s what lawyers are for, after all. I wrote plenty of papers and position papers in college, but I think it’s interesting that in law school they really go all out and have you follow through with writing your paper by arguing in the courthouse. It’s a nice touch. Her parents are watching her, and then immediately afterwards I’m walking over to Higgins where we’ll all have dinner.
I’m glad I’ve had a couple of beers. I’m good with the parents, I’m better with conversation after a beer or two. Liquid conversation and all.
Well, successful or not, I’ll get a dinner-full of Hanne’s British accent. Awesome.
When the hail comes down, the shoes come off
…when I’m safe and dry at home, that is. And especially after it was hailing and raining so hard, my shoes soaked through and got my socks wet just in the five blocks from where the bus dumps me off on Belmont. I was going to go for a run after work today (or, at least entertain the notion of doing so), but the shoes stay off. My running shoes don’t go on.
My experiment of running home carrying my pack with my work clothes wadded up inside yesterday worked pretty well, side from beginning to develop a shin splint from the extra weight and not stretching enough. My keys jingle-jangled a lot, too, since they were in a side pocket of my pack. I sounded like the damn reindeer on Christmas Eve all the way home.
The shooting yesterday at Virginia Tech has shocked and horrified me, like many others around the country. Most of us live our lives in relative peace, never fearing for our lives, particularly in environments such as school (or a dorm room we temporarily call “home”) where we feel safe. Yesterday’s shooting doesn’t teach me anything I didn’t already know about the potential for evil in mankind, and I hope that something positive comes out of it. I don’t care what, but my only solace in such a horrible act is that believing that something good can come out of it. Maybe two people hiding for their lives will make a connection and fall in love. Maybe a student covering the story will become a writer that will touch the lives of million. Something. Anything. We look for any bright spot in the darkness, and though I can’t say that it’s touched me on a personal level aside from basic compassion, I’d like the story to have a happy ending for someone.
No, strike part of that. This story already has touched me on a personal level. Two people in the media–the opportunist and abrasive lawyer Jack Thompson and Dr. Phil–have already come out and blamed video games for the shooting. My thoughts on video games and how they relate to everyday violence are pretty clear by now, but I thought that Jack Thompson appearing on Fox News while the bodies weren’t even cold, before the shooter’s name was even known, crying and blaming video games for the senseless violence took the absolute shit-eating cake. Let the families grieve, let the world mourn in shock, let the authorities try and piece together the chain of events and motivation, but stay off the fucking television promoting your own agenda. Just because you’re undergoing disciplinary hearings by the State Bar of Florida determining whether you’ve broached ethical rules and should have your license to practice law revoked, just because every piece of legislation you’ve ever helped states to craft banning what you see as the ill of society has been struck down by the courts as unconstitutional and have cost all states a combined total of $1.7 million in legal fees, just because you’re an abrasive, aggressive, and dishonest person–and most of all, just because you’re opportunistic leech–yesterday was not the time to use the mass media as the place to chase all the ambulances at once.
The killer was a quiet, disturbed loner. Why do people automatically assume that he played video games, and violent ones at that? I play video games, violent ones on occasion. What does that make me?
I hate Jack Thompson. My opinion of Dr. Phil isn’t too high today, either. I’ll be the first one to say that violent video games will affect someone who’s already disturbed more than a “normal” person, but the hypothesis that video games make these people like the VT shooter and Columbine killers Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold violent is completely bogus. What about Charles Whitman, the Texas tower sniper who killed 16? What about Martin Bryant, the killer of the Port Arthur Massacre who shot and killed 35 people?
I’m just sick of the agrument, and I’m sick of the media giving credence to the idea.
Back to better topics.
I’m foregoing my usual Wednesday night plans at McMenamins and instead having dinner with Hanne and her family downtown. I don’t want to go home nd then go back downtown, though, so I’ll most likely take my laptop to work, then find a quiet place after work with an Internet connection I can mooch off, perhaps have a cup of coffee or a beer while I wait until Hanne’s done with her oral argument at the courthouse. Should be interesting. not only will I get to score a free meal, but I’ll score a lengthy period of Hanne’s English accent while she converses with her parents. Awesome.
Speaking of which, Hanne’s coming over shortly to use my ironing board, and I’ve been promised free Thai food for letting her iron. Guess I’ll order my food so she can pick it up on her way over.
Hope it’s not raining as hard when she’s walking up my street, though.
Monday Monday
I had a sudden realization this morning when I got to work, so I check back in my blog and sure enough–in two days, I will have been working downtown and commuting exclusively by public transportation for two years. Somewhat fitting that today is the first day in two years that I didn’t bring the bag my Mom bought me as a “Welcome Downtown” present and instead brought the backpack I bought to run home with. It’s smaller than I thought it would be, so I’m really going to have to cram my clothes in it. Or roll them carefully, but the idea is basically the same. I have my raincoat, too, so I’ll have to roll that up and secure it with the bungee straps on the back. When I’m all changed and carrying the full pack on my back, I’m going to look like I’ll be doing some trail running.
…which actually sounds like a pretty fun idea, actually, but that’s something for another day.
This pack better be worth $70, because I really don’t want to have to purchase the next model of pack up just because I didn’t add up how much space a pair of khakis, an undershirt, and a long-sleeved shirt would take up before I spent the money.
Things are going quite well. Hanne’s parents will be here this week, so I’ll likely get the once-over from her family. Her Dad has expressed interest in going to both Higgins and Wildwood, so if I play my cards right I can have some fantastic food. I don’t want to intrude on their time too much, though, even though our six-month anniversary is this Friday while her parents will still be here.
Back to work. Call me Garfield, but I hate Mondays.
Thoughts over a Full Sail Pale Ale
Sitting on my front porch, listening to music, drinking a beer, enjoying the weather. I love springtime. I also like having a laptop that lets me stay online while I sit on my front porch, drink beer, and enjoy the weather, but that’s secondary. But nice.
Went for a run today in the good weather. Absolutely beautiful. Beer is my reward, even though I’ve been cutting back to lose a few pounds. I ran 4.5 miles today, I deserve a treat, no?
I also bought myself a replacement alarm clock. The one I bought at Wal-Mart in Beloit during my freshman year of college was starting to show its age, mostly through its inability to change the minutes on the alarm and complete inability to change the time at all. It’s been running exactly two hours ahead for the last two weeks because I could never remember to set my cell phone’s alarm to get up at midnight and reset the time again. Replacing my $10 eight year old alarm clock with a new $12 one is much easier. And my new one has a radio, so no more alarm noise. Awesome.
Hanne and I started watching “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” last night. I think Hanne got the urge to bite my neck, but she didn’t outright dislike it, just the circa-1995 high school outfits. Odd that n a show about demonic possession, vampires killing people, demons trying to bring about the end of the world, etc, what she finds most disturbing is fashion.
We all have our pet peeves, I suppose.
I wish the sun was actually shining directly on me, as the breeze is a bit chilly, but I’ll take what I can get.
Posted from a Mac
It took me several years and a lot of putting up with slowness, but I finally bought myself a new laptop. I’ve been saving money since last year for (partially) this very reason. Very nice.
After much hemming and hawing, a lot of product comparisons, and a denied credit card, I ended up walking out of MacForce with a brand spanking new MacBook. Me? A Mac? Yeah, I know. Crazy. It you’d told me several years ago I’d be buying a Mac, I’d have laughed you out of the room. So why’d I get a Mac?
Firstly, its not my main machine, but a secondary one. I can still read all my email, play iTunes music, use Firefox, write, etc. I really don’t care what’s installed on it as long as I can access my files and do what I need to do. Any laptop I bought wouldn’t be my main machine (well, for most things) because I have so much stored on my desktop it would be impossible to get a comparable laptop. Plus, I’ll always have a desktop because I do play games on occasion, though not nearly s much in the last few years. So for the things I’d like to be able to do from anywhere, it really didn’t matter what kind of laptop I got.
I’m enjoying playing around with Mac OS X and relearning it, but it’s pretty easy. For a laptop, this is a damn fast machine, and everything I need is either already on it, easily downloadable, or stored somewhere on the web. Yeah, I like it.
I promise not to become a Mac zealot.
Stream of consciousness over a Sunspot IPA
I’d say “Guess where I am?” but I have a feeling most people who know me well have a pretty good idea of where I am. I “borrowed” a laptop from work that no one was using and brought it home, partially as an experiment to see how well Ubuntu Linux works on it (since that’s what I spent my day doing), partially to see what happens when two of my worlds collide. So far, so good. I’m not the only one sitting in here with a laptop–actually, there are four of us at three tables in a row–so I don’t feel too out of place. I’m still a big ol’ geek, though. No surprise there. I’m probably not the only person sitting on SE Hawthorne Blvd. blogging my life away while drinking beer right now.
I hadn’t originally planned on coming here tonight, to be honest. I discovered last weekend that I weigh about 5 pounds more than I should and 10 pounds more than I’d like, so I’ve started cutting back on my caloric intake while simultaneously picking up a little more running. First out the door is always the beer I don’t need, so I figured I’d bypass my weekly McMenamins trip and just eat light tonight. After an extremely frustrating day of both trying to get Ubuntu to work properly on the laptop as well as people being annoying, I decided that in order to lower my stress level I needed a beer or two to calm me down. Even if I did come tonight, I was going to forgo the beer just for caloric reasons, but as Hanne put it: “Skip the pizza bread, get the beer.” Who am I to argue with that?
My bus ride home today smelled of stale beer. Either someone had spilled some or they’d hit the bottle/can kinda early today. Either way, with things as crowded as they were it made for an uncomfortable ride home, especially hauling this laptop around. My bag that I take to work with me works quite well with laptops, but it’s just the extra weight I’m not accustomed to.
Going back to the whole work thing, I haven’t been too happy at work lately. It’s not a “I need a change in direction in my life” sort of thing, but rather I’m just feeling very disconnected from things. The last couple of weeks have been really slow at work. Poor Hanne has to listen to me bitch about how bored I am most days, and while I know there are always little things I could be doing, the combination of no interesting projects to hold my attention and a lot of my friends leaving the firm has left me feeling somewhat bored. I haven’t felt this bored since back at my old job. I’ve got to find something to do before I go out of my mind.
My patience has been pretty short lately, too. I find myself getting annoyed at things/people very quickly these days, and while I’m good at biting my tongue so that I don’t snap at people, it’s not good for my stress level.
Case in point: I had a frustrating day, so here I am at McMenamins drinking beer. Eh, at least I have a relatively public forum to bitch about my problems. I don’t think that people’s expectations of me have grown in any way, nor do I think that what they do have in unreasonable, but I’ve just been quick to temper. Dunno why.
Things with Hanne have been going well. Our six month anniversary is actually in a little over a week, and that’s sort of snuck up me. I honestly didn’t think we’d be together this long, not because we don’t have any chemistry, not because I don’t like her, but because…I don’t know. I just thought that we’d be too different to really sustain a relationship for this long. I’m definitely not complaining, mind you. Just surprised. We’ve been watching a lot of TV together lately as opposed to movies, though we’re reaching critical mass I think. We’re close to being done with “Babylon 5″ and one episode away from the end of “Veronica Mars,” and at that point I think I might force her to watch “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” that I have downloaded. She claimed that she’d lose street cred if she watched “Buffy.” Ha! I’ve watched all of “Buffy” and all of “Angel” and I have plenty of street cred.
OK, so I’m actually a big dork, but I hide it well with people who don’t know me.
On Monday as part of my “I need to exercise more” campaign I bought a light backpack that I can put a change of clothes in, and this spring/summer/fall I can take my running clothes to work, change into them after work, and just run home. I’m only running twice a week now (since I’m just too lazy these days to run on the weekends), and even though it’s less than 2 miles from work to home, that’s an extra 2 miles on the days I’m not doing 4 or 5 after work. Hell, maybe I can even combine ‘em: run straight home on the days I don’t plan on running, run my normal route and then home on the days I do plan on running. That would certainly save me the trouble of going home, changing, then essentially coming right back to where I started on my run. I could probably squeeze out some extra mileage, too, since I wouldn’t be backtracking as much.
Battery’s down to 65%. Not bad. I have a spare in my bag.
Monday was also my Mom’s birthday, and since Heather and I knew she’d probably just want to do something easy in her neighborhood, Heather made my Mom drive into Beaverton to Heather’s apartment, and then the two of them drove over to SE so that we could go to a nice restaurant. Heather suggested Italian, I chose Nostrana since my downstairs neighbor bartends there. Heather actually wanted pasta-Italian, but she didn’t specify that. Nostrana, I could have told her had she asked, mostly specializes in wood-fired pizzas in addition to their other menu items. It was a delicious meal. I was pretty amazed that after a year and a half in my apartment, I still haven’t been there. Well, in all fairness they’ve only been open for a year or so, but still, it’s the thought that (doesn’t) count.
Last Saturday, my dad, my grandmother, Heather, Hanne, and I all made plans to go to lunch at the new Belmont Station Cafe that opened up last week, but as it turned out (fortunately before we got there) they’re not open for lunch. We ended up at the Alameda Brewhouse that I’ve been to a couple of times, but I had no complaints. They have dynamite beer and food, though it’s a bit upscale for my pubbing taste. Kind of like the new Bridgeport Brewpub, but a little less posh.
As we came out after lunch, we all heard this tremendous CRASH from up the street, the unmistakable sound of bumper meeting bumper. I was a bit surprised to see the car doing the crashing back up and then turn around the corner, but from the way his car was weaving as he backed up, I suspect he was probably inebriated from something. The damage to the car he rear-ended was pretty bad–he smashed out the back window and made the bumper an innie instead of an outie–and after the witnesses tried to figure out if it was a Washington or Wisconsin plate to go along with the plate number someone got, our answer came as the owner of the car examined the damage.
The guy had left his front license plate at the scene of the accident. It had torn off on the other car’s now-imploded bumper. Here’s a helpful hint to all would-be criminals out there: if you’re going to flee the scene of an accident, you might want to make sure your license plate didn’t come off in the process. It’s like making sure you don’t leave your wallet after robbing a house–just common sense.
That was pretty much the highlight on my Saturday. Drinking a couple of pints off beer at lunch leaves me pretty drained for the rest of any day, and Saturday was no different. The three sodas and 20 oz. coffee I’d had that morning weren’t sitting well, either. Or maybe it was just the glut of onion rings and fries at the brewhouse.
One interesting fact I discovered at lunch, though. I’ve started seeing Alameda’s Klikitat Pale Ale in stores occasionally, so when our curiosity got the better of us, my Dad asked them how/where they bottle their beers. Turns out they do every single one by hand: fill it, cap it, stick on the label. That must be a bitch to do, but it’s good beer. I’ll make sure I buy a bottle next time I see it.
Yeah, so I really can’t think of anything else to write about. I have plenty of battery life left, but I’m just out of material. Maybe it’s time for me to turn to the Willamette Week and see what’s new in Bohemia Portlandia this week. I suppose I could just go and read the Willamette Week online, but where’s the fun in that?
Worlds have collided enough for tonight, methinks.