+ confessions of a red-headed stepchild: August 2005

Tuesday, August 30, 2005

heart broken

I can't believe what is happening in New Orleans. I know it is below sea level and that it was bound to happen, but watching this town fall to pieces just kills me. I have watched countless news stories about hurricanes and the destruction they have caused elsewhere, but not somewhere I have lived. I love this town. The photos of buildings and neighborhoods destroyed, streets I have walked down filled with water, and all of the people, who used to be my people, scrambling to survive. I wish there was something I could do.

Friday, August 26, 2005

friday confessional

I have a fantasy where I am the lead singer of a punk band. Something like Kim Gordon of Sonic Youth. This all plays out in my car as I am speeding along, singing at the top of my lungs.

I think it would be funny to see me, if I weren't me.

Thursday, August 25, 2005

penny and tom

tom and penny

the taco tango

If I had a blog last summer I would have totally blogged about the crazy lady at Javier's and the psychic that didn't see her coming.

Javier's is a 24 hour Mexican restaurant that has really excellent Mexican food. Although, if you choose to go there after normal business hours it can prove to be a freak show. Tom and I have been known to stroll in around 2am, and brave the crowds in an effort to quell an impending hangover, or two. But this particular night was OUT OF CONTROL.

As we stood in line waiting to order a woman who just finished ordering walked toward the front door with her drink in hand, bumping the man standing behind us in line. I couldn't believe she didn't apologize or at least say excuse me, but quicker than I could register that thought she fell off the steps, out the front door, skinned her knee and lost her drink. She came back in with blood dripping down her leg and sat in a chair to wait for her food.

By the time I got up to the counter to place my order her order was ready. She stepped in front of me, blocking me from placing my order, and began inspecting her burrito for sour cream. After a quick glance inside the tortilla she said "It doesn't have sour cream! I ordered sour cream!" Then she slammed her burrito onto the counter (picture beans and cheese exploding everywhere) and ordered the boy behind the counter to make her another one.

I was so appalled at what had just happened I was probably catching flies in my mouth. I turned to the boy behind the counter and told him to give her money back and refuse her service. She turned to me and instantly forgot about her burrito. I was the new enemy. I defended myself by telling her that you just don't treat people that way, we have all been the boy behind the counter, we have all been the pizza dude! But she wasn't listening. She got in my face and began yelling all sorts of obscenities. Tom jumped between us at which point he became her new enemy (see, she was crazy). I was afraid that she was going to hit him, and how he might react to that, and how her guy friends out in the car that hadn't seen all this craziness might react to the way Tom reacted. That is when the two men came in from outside picked her up and carried her out, her tacquitos getting caught in the swinging doors and crashing to their death on the ground.

In case you weren't keeping track, she left with nothing but a skinned knee, and she never got her money back. Once the coast was clear, Tom and I finally ordered our food. We sat down to eat recounting the events. The brother that was standing behind us in line helped himself to a seat at our table and began giving us a free psychic reading. One that contained no useful information as it must have belonged to someone else.

And what reminded me of this terribly funny incident is that something similar happened a couple of weeks ago. Tom and I went out for tacos at a new taco stand near my new house, in the same general neighborhood. The stand is in a parking lot of a little market that neighbors a trashy apartment complex. As we walked up to order our food, we noticed four or five people on the other side of the chain link fence drunk, and yelling at each other. A woman was pushing a man and slurring her words in such a way I had trouble understanding anything other than "Who is sucking my old mans cock while I am not home?" This seasoned woman already had one black eye and was asking for another one. I don't even think these people lived at the apartment complex, they were just drinking there, in the dirt, yelling at each other. A younger guy grabbed the lone 40 from the black eyed woman and started chugging it into oblivion. She was yelling and dancing around trying to grab it back from him with no luck. He threw the bottle on the ground, told all of them to fuck off and left the scene.

The moral of my story is: no good Mexican food comes without drama in NoPo.

Sunday, August 21, 2005

holy-mother-fucking-shit

I am horrible about blogging on the spot. I am a procrastinator and often post about things that have happened at least a week past. But with all the windup regarding this skydiving trip I feel like I owe you a first hand account of what happened.

As I have mentioned previously, I was in complete denial of what I had gotten myself into, but reality settled in as we were approaching 10,000 feet, crammed shoulder to shoulder in a tiny plane. I realized the intensity of my situation when my instructor told me we were going to "dive out" of the plane. I asked him if there were an easier way to do it and he laughed at me. He could tell I was nervous because he kept telling me things to do that would make someone who was absolutely petrified feel better, and the fact that he could tell I was nervous was making me MORE NERVOUS.

The door at the back of the plane opened and we could barely hear each other speak. The line started moving and I couldn't think twice about my footing or the fact that I was going to be plummeting to my death if all the things I signed off on the waiver came to fruition. You could see the bodies drop out of the door, quickly out of sight and then all of a sudden my feet were at the edge of the plane and then we were flying.

I am a screamer and my throat is sore because we were free falling for 56 seconds which required me to scream "oh my god" and "fuck" over and over and over again until the chute came out and we popped back up into the air and 125 miles per hour slowed to an eagles soar. The ground came up to meet my feet too quickly.

The sense of accomplishment is almost as amazing as the adrenaline rush.

I didn't pay the additonal money for the pictures, but if I did I am sure it would have looked something like this.

Saturday, August 20, 2005

denial - the best medicine

Think of me around noon. I will be falling at over 100 miles an hour toward the surface of the earth, at the mercy of someone I don't even know that is strapped to my back. I am scared. I have managed to make it through the last twenty days by not thinking about it at all.

Friday, August 19, 2005

friday confessional

I am a horrible judge of character. And I frequently eat my own words.

I used to work as a bartender at a dark, smoky bar in North Portland. I worked the day shift all summer, in a building with no windows, where racist rednecks were my customers and the manager bossed me around as if I was a twelve year old.

This is where I met Tom. He lived near by and came in because it was close enough to walk there from his house. He braved the clientele to have a few colds ones and once I caught his eye, he began to come in for more than the beer.

During one of my shifts, a customer asked me what sort of guy I was attracted to. I assumed he was trying to figure out if he fit the bill. Not really being able to point out anyone that was my style in a place like this, I decided to tell him what kind of guy wasn’t my style. I pointed to Tom, who was minding his own business across the bar playing a game of pool.

We had our three year anniversary dinner last night. So I guess it is safe to say that I have no idea what I am talking about most of the time.

i love him

Thursday, August 18, 2005

three days until i crap my pants

Last night I dreamt I was in a space shuttle going to the moon. When we got to the moon we spent some time floating in sleeping bags before we went for burgers, beers and Karaoke back on earth. Then we had to go back to space to get the ship, because we took the stairs down through an apartment building that was so tall it reached the moon.

dead grass dead dog

Sunday, August 14, 2005

this is beautiful

Can I get my ballot? I am ready to vote.

Saturday, August 13, 2005

the before and after

before

after

Friday, August 12, 2005

friday confessional

I get so wrapped up in planning everything that sometimes I feel like I don't know how to live in the moment.

quiz

1. Have you ever had sex in a tent?
Of course, I live in Oregon.

2. Have you ever been so drunk that you have passed out?
I am not sure I would have much in common with someone who hasn't.

3. Have you ever dated a goth?
Yes. It was tragic.

4. Have you ever done anything you could be arrested for?
Yes.

5. Have you ever done anything you could go to jail for?
Yes.

6. Have you ever broken a bone?
My left leg TWICE!

7. Have you ever crashed a car?
I swear I am not a bad driver! I crashed Tom's car. We had been together less than a year. He is still mad about it. We were driving to Minnesota and it was a white out. I saw a car ahead of us flashing its lights at me. As we got closer I realized there was a wreck in the middle of our lane. So I slammed on the brakes, even though the roads were covered in snow and ice. We did a 360 and scratched the length of his car on a guard rail. Looking on the bright side we are glad the guard rail was there.

8. Have you ever refused a date because of what your friends might think?
Never. I always date guys my friends can't stand.

9. Have you ever been found sleep walking?
Yes. I walked into my mom's room late one night and told her I lost my fur coat and I needed her help finding it. I have never owned a fur coat and never would.

10. Have you ever sent a crank call or email?
Yes. More than I would like to admit. It was a very popular thing to do as a teenager.

11. Ever licked your own nipple?
I am trying to right now and I can't reach it.

12. Have you ever peed in public and been caught?
I have peed in more public places than I can count. And I have never been caught.

13. Do you have a tattoo?
Two.

14. Have you had any piercings done (not including the ears)?
I have had my nose and septum pierced twice.

15. Have you ever had a date with someone you met online?
Yes.

Wednesday, August 10, 2005

this i believe

I can't get enough of these essays...especially Be Cool to the Pizza Dude.

me jane

me jane

I had a dream last night that I was clinging, with one hand, to a black backpack that was hovering far above the surface of the earth. I knew that if I let go of it I would fall to my death.

Only 10 days until this blog is no longer dominated by my fear of skydiving.

Tuesday, August 09, 2005

i don't like it one bit

After the fifth shooting downtown, the Oregonian and the Portland Police Department feel free throwing racists comments around casually:

"Gentrification in Northeast Portland has pushed young African Americans to bars downtown."

So all young blacks are in gangs, all gang members in Portland are black and all shootings in Portland are gang related?

Friday, August 05, 2005

friday confessional

I am going skydiving on the 20th of this month and I never thought I would be this scared. I can't even think about it without trying to convince myself that I should reconsider. I keep seeing what I expect I will see from the plane and keep feeling what I expect I will feel when it is time to jump. And I get panicky.

I have always wanted to go skydiving, but talking about doing it one day and actually doing it feel very different. So different that the core of my being and all that I value is being tossed and turned upside down as I try to think of any way I can get out of it.

Maybe once the PMS passes I won’t feel the intense desire to over analyze this anymore.

Thursday, August 04, 2005

it keeps cropping up

Ashland is in the news again.

Wednesday, August 03, 2005

of course i am

Personality Test Results

You're an aspiring rapper who stands by your homies. You won't hesitate to beat down anyone who gets in your way and your best friend is your Glock.

Monday, August 01, 2005

and there was sand EVERYWHERE

Tom and I went camping and had the most relaxing, enjoyable time.

camp

Although it is always hard to go places like this and realize how many assholes actually inhabit this world. There were two abandoned campsites filled with trash, newspapers, empty beer bottles, broken glass and styrofoam egg cartons.

I think people who litter should be forced to wear a sign around their neck that clearly states "I am a litterbug", or have their reproduction rights taken away, or be shot and killed. Hot damn, I am filled with good ideas today.

oceanside

I made this awesome video of Tom last summer. He is wearing these big 80's sunglasses and we were in the park on a fake sick day, sunbathing and drinking ice-cold beers. He said, "It sure is beautiful out here", took the last chug off of his beer and threw his can on the ground. It was hilarious. Pretending we were litterbugs.

moon

When I was a kid my parents made us pick up ten pieces of trash anytime we went camping or hiking. It was our chore, to pick up after others too lazy to pick up after themselves.

buddah

Two blocks from my house lay the burned remains of a suitcase. There are half burned bras, lingerie and other personal effects. I imagine there was a fight, or someone cheated and their belongings were burned at the stake.

fessenden

It is shocking to me that it has sat there for as long as it has. That hundreds of people walking up and down that sidewalk, and the tenants at the two apartment buildings, just step over it. I think it will be interesting to see how long it takes to get picked up. Or how long it takes for me to break down and pick it up myself.

litter

This is day 8.