Portlandia

I went to Portland last weekend and it was just lovely. Some thoughts on Portland:

1.) Still in the 90's. This not only includes flannel shirts tied around the waist, a bumping Doc Martin's store and a propensity towards erotica, but GOOD PRICES. It seemed to my travel companions and I that inflation may have come to a halt in the 90's for the dear city of Portland. I chugged a top shelf martini for 5 dollars there. And it was NOT happy hour. 5 dollars.

Also- My roommate invited his 90's high school sweetheart to hang out, and she was the kind of crazy that you only really saw in the 90's- Girl Interrupted, Poison Ivy, Kids, Mad Love. Think red lipstick, alcoholism, no shame. The first bar refused to serve her, the second bar asked her to stop dry humping on the booth and by the time we got home she was offering everyone an assortment of pharmaceuticals.

I also thought I was eating next to Jared Leto at one point. NINE-TIES.


2.) The Rose Garden. Not in bloom. Bullshit.


3.) Damn. Good. Food. Jessie's picks: Beesaw's Bacon Breakfast Sandwich (goat cheese, avocado, applewood smoked bacon, french bread) and mimosas, Cafe Mingo's Happy Hour (5 dollar small plates and drinks- sauteed calamari, cold meat plate, lamb meatballs, fried mozzarella), Sansai Grill's all day happy hour- 1/2 price on selected rolls and sake, Kenny and Zuke's Jewish delicatessen (extensive selection of vintage bottled sodas and bagel dogs), and Biwa Japanese Ramen House(a broth to write home about). And since Portland is still in the 90's each meal cost less than 20 dollars WITH dranks.

4.) Vintage Clothing- Can't swing a dead raccoon without hitting a vintage store. You guessed it- Lots of 90's style threads to be had. Were oral herpes 90's too? Because I saw an inordinate amount of that too. In the Vintage stores. Hmm.

5.) Forest Park- Nature is pretty in in Portland. Local food, fair-trade Coffee, rivers, fog. I went on a two mile hike with my friend Danny and my roommate in the Northwestern Rainforest known as Forest Park. Glorious. Just glorious. I subjected Danny to a personality test and then we beat the metaphor of Waves as romantic relationships to death concluding that waves are a good metaphor for basically everything. Waves are a metaphor for Portland. Sometimes they are calm like a smooth jazz song playing at your favorite Powell's location, and sometimes they are totally gnarly, like a pair of oddly stained stonewashed jeans on an androgynous local dj who refuses to humor (humor- not even play- humor) your request for a song that didn't exist in the 90's.


Basically, I loved Portland. I'd live there if it wasn't an hour from the ocean and it didn't rain half the year. It warms my heart that there will always be a place where I can wear multi-colored spandex without judgment, stuff my face with fresh organic hand massaged chickens for 10 dollars and buy the hat that was made out of the raccoon I swung when I was looking for a store that carries the flower printed baby doll dress Alicia Silverstone wore in "Cryin'."

Pillow Talk

I have been a pillow case making fool for the past couple of months. Here is a small showCASE:

Amish You a Merry Christmas

Just when you think the miracle of Christmas is a holey old joke of a sock- You go to Wisconsin and everything changes.

I live in California. And I love it. But the only other place I would consider living in this world is Wisconsin. Imagine my ultimate joy when I found out that my small clan and I would be celebrating the birth of C in an unincorporated village on the snow filled plains of Wisconsin this year. Yahtzee!

On Christmas day, my family piled into my father's beloved mini van and off we drove to my cousins house- All very "Over the river and through the woods." Amidst explaining to my other cousin the Oakland slang, "Doin too much," my dad drove off the road and into a ditch. Whether he was "doin too much" or "not enough" is still up for debate.

The family squawked about for a minute or two, complaining of cold, making jokes and generally being useless when a little blue light from the distance started bobbing towards us. It was The Amish. Or An Amish. A man with a very long beard. As he chatted with the other Men, another Amish came by. In a horse drawn buggy. A voice from it shouted, "I would help but cars are ugly!"

Mokay. I didn't know the Amish were so feisty. Feisty and efficient. Within 5 minutes the bobbing blue light man came back to us with a small metal wagon sleigh thing attached to a pair of enormous horses. As fast as you could say, "Amish you a Merry Christmas!" the Amish tied a chain from the van to the wagon, cried yehaw; his mighty horses plucking the van from its snowy resting place- then disappeared back into the barn from whence they came.

A country Christmas Miracle. I was thrilled, my faith (in horses) restored, my hands numb from clapping in 30 degree weather. We hopped back into the van to the aroma of Roast Beast and exulted. The Amish are doin just right and yes, cars are ugly.

Don't Forget to Love Yourself

My students and I wrote this song.


I love myself,
I am very attractive,
Everything I do
is super duper positive.

I'm nice,
I'm cool,
I'm good,
I'm a rockstar.

Bet ya didn't know
I live on Planet Ma-ars.
I'm an alien shark
with High Self-Esteem,
I'm so cool
I'm on the Ice Cream Team.

School is Bomb!

The high school drop out rate is on the rise. There are a lot of scary statistics out there saying so. The worst kind of statistics. The kind you won't really think about until the day America loses the Battle of the Universe to Lithuania and we are all wearing McDonalds French Fry cups for mittens. Everyone will want to know- How did we lose to Lithuania?

A failing and progressively ineffective public education system will be the answer. Well, one of them at least.

If it's not the fact that public ed is still stuck in a education model that was made in the industrial era- prioritizing skills more useful in the factory than in the innovation of the global market- it will be a sheer numbers game.

There won't be enough people to fight for American freedom because not enough people will be able to have the freedom of a High School diploma *. Without a diploma * you can't join the military. Without military power, you lose the Battle of the Universe. Tic Toc. Tic Toc.

As I was driving to school the other day I heard a wonderful commercial on the radio urging young people to go back to school! Ernest and free flowing voices of urban youth spoke of their teenage parenthood, incarcerations, and homelessness. Education they claimed, was their only option for success. Of course, I was tearing up, passionately nodding my head and gripping the steering wheel in fierce agreement. When they finished, "This announcement is sponsored by the United States Army."

It reminded me of a speech Arne Duncan, Secretary of Education, gave wherein he stated, "75 percent of young Americans, between the ages of 17 to 24, are unable to enlist in the military today because they have failed to graduate from high school, have a criminal record *, or are physically unfit."

75%. Great for an outlet mall. Terrible for the United States. Now, I'm not an alarmist, NRA member, war monger or any other such proponent of bombs, violence, or the killing of innocent babies, but like it or not, the military is necessary for National Security. We want it strong for various reasons. Plus, it's been helpful for things like stopping Hitler and keeping out terrorists.......oh wait, nevermind.

Should the Battle of the Universe take place in an era low on high school graduates, American military will be understaffed, ill-prepared, and the rest of us could be at risk for an unwelcomed draft.

Dramatic? Yes. Lose sleep? Not just yet. Another reason why Public ed is in crisis and needs a massive overhaul? HU-RAH!

You Know Your Cat Is Your Best Friend...

When you file into the bathroom together, go to your respective receptacles and share a morning pee with each other. Everyday.

Best Guests

I just had four friends from Chicago short noticedly stay at my house this past week. At first I was a little, "Ah shit, What did I agree to?" But then became obsessed with finding the perfect cat litter.

The first night we hung out they bought me dinner.

The second day we hung out- they allowed me to take them surfing. Aka- I got to go surfing on a weekday- aka their vacation became my vacation.

They stuck Harold and Kumar into the DVD player while cooking a delicious meal and made me a vodka soda with lime.

They cleaned my kitchen leaving it in better shape than when they arrived.

They invited me to Napa to drink more vodka sodas with lime, eat more delicious food- we're talkin fresh oysters from the seaside, insisted we go wine tasting, and supported my decision to buy apple flavored Licorice.

Really the Award goes out to couch surfers who know how to treat couch owners. God bless ya!