It’s that time again, folks!

It’s kind of perfect timing, too… I could really use some extra juice in this here blog.

So, to get us going, here are some photos from my awesome Halloween weekend:

Galen the Lumberjack and Mego the Mechanic (yes, that patch does say “Mego”)

Evel Knievel and a Fat Nun

Zombie Doctor (what are pink scrubs for, anyway?)

Betty Draper from Mad Men

And…
The winners of the award for best costume (two years in a row):

Silver weather balloon

Silver weather balloon and Heene Residence Garage

Silver weather balloon… and Falcon Heene Hiding in the Garage!

I’ve mentioned before how my mom taught me to celebrate the Jewish New Year by doing Tashlich and celebrating change and fresh starts. This year, I may have outdone myself.

Aside from the national change I wished for eleven months ago, I have also witnessed significant changes in my personal life. I moved to an area of Portland with which I’m relatively unfamiliar, to live on my own for the first time in 26 years. I got a new job. It may be in the same building with the same coworkers, but my duties and reporting structure have changed. I started seeing someone new, and he’s fantastic. Pretty dramatic compared to last year, when I think I cleaned out my closet and washed my car.

Speaking of Galen, he very sweetly agreed to do Tashlich with me this year. For those not familiar, this is a Jewish tradition I’ve compared before to a mix between Poohsticks and Confession. I don’t consider myself particularly religious (I would say “spiritual but not religious,” to us a phrase I learned from Match.com), but I do love tradition and Tashlich really resonates for me. The basic gist is that you take bread to a body of water and throw a bit in for each of your sins (or as I like to think of it, “areas for improvement”). Then they float away down the river and you get to start fresh without them hanging over you. How can you argue with that?

So Galen and I went down to a dock on the Willamette River, armed with a few slices of bread and a year’s worth of baggage. After we sat down and threw a few pieces in, some Canada Geese came over and started eating the bread. We joked that the birds were going to get sick later, but didn’t think much of it.

Then the geese came up right next to us and waited for us to throw bread directly into their mouths.

Then a few seagulls appeared.

Then there was a staggering number of seagulls circling overhead.

Then the seagulls and the Canada Geese were all cawing and squawking and fighting over our sins.

And then we hightailed it out of there. As we were leaving, I turned to Galen and said, “Next year, we’ll throw them from a bridge…”

I just saw this and thought it was kinda cool. The people at Travel Portland put this video together to “promote Portland to convention delegates, meeting planners and tour operators.” I just like it because it reminds me of some of the reasons I love this place (and some things I still need to check out – like the Japanese and Chinese gardens!).

The only thing I would change is the music. You might want to listen to it on mute while your favorite tunes play in the background.

Remember that time I walked by the filming of a music video? Well, the finished product was posted to Storm’s website this week.

TWO THINGS YOU SHOULD KNOW BEFORE WATCHING THIS VIDEO:
1. It is not safe for work.
2. If you are easily offended or don’t like blatant sex talk, you should not watch this.

The part I saw is the outdoor dancing that starts at 3:00.

Storm posted the video on her website and blog, along with a list of people she wanted to thank for their help and support. Then she signed off with this great line:

Last, but not least, thank you, Portland, Oregon. Your endless support of all things weird will always make you the coolest city on the planet. Bless your rainy and rosy wild heart.

xoStorm

It seems counter intuitive, but it’s easier to blog when there aren’t any big things going on in your life. At least that’s been true for me. When life is normal, I can write about the new Kelly Clarkson album or the person I saw walking their electric scooter through the line at Starbucks the other day. Recently, however, there have been so many changes and big events in my life that blogging has been near impossible.

Work has been really tough, which means it’s on my mind constantly. And as we all know, the #1 rule of blogging is that you should never write about your job.

I started seeing someone, too. He’s pretty amazing, to be honest. He’s tall and awkward and funny and wonderful. And he even let me take him home to Montana for the 4th of July… Which is impressive in itself. But I always get a little superstitious when it comes to writing about new relationships.

And last but not least, after four wonderful (completely platonic) years together, my roommate Brian and I are getting a divorce. Our lease is up at the end of July, and we both decided that at the ripe old age of 26, we should probably learn what it feels like to live by ourselves. So off I go into the world of 1-bedroom apartments on the East side, with half of my previous furniture. (Seriously, we even decided to split up the coasters).

So as you can see, I’ve been busy. I’m hoping that things will settle down soon, one way or another, but until then, bear with me. I’ll try to make it worth the wait.

I walked home for lunch the other day and stood at the big picture windows in our apartment, looking out into the park blocks as I ate my peanut butter & jelly sandwich. Sitting on the park benches, I saw a couple of flamboyantly dressed women, outfitted with sequins and feathers and ruffles (oh my!). Now, as the bumper stickers suggest, sights like this are not uncommon in Portland. So I didn’t think much of it.

That is, until I left the building to walk back to work and saw the aforementioned ladies (who turned out to be drag queens, unsurprisingly) in a group of other people filming what I later found out was a music video for this song. The group included a heavily-tattooed woman wearing a string bikini, another woman wearing a bear costume, someone in a superhero costume, and a juggler. (For a few photos, check out Byron Beck’s blog post here).

The group was dancing behind the lead singer, who I didn’t recognize at the time, but later found out was none other than the locally and nationally famous Storm Large. As soon as I heard her belt the chorus line, “Myyyy vagina is eight miles wide… Absolutely everyone can come inside.” I began giggling. I was not the only person watching, but I seemed to be the only one who couldn’t contain herself. I continued to laugh as I walked the seven blocks back to my office, where I immediately told my coworkers about what I saw. As you can imagine, hilarity ensued.

I can’t wait to see the finished product. According to Storm’s website, the video will probably debut sometime this month. I promise to keep you updated.

When I was choosing where to go to college, I had narrowed it down to Lewis & Clark or Macalester. My brother (who tried to convince my cousin Kristin to go to UNC instead of Colgate because Michael Jordan was a Tar Heel) told me he’d like me to go to Macalester because he’d much rather go to a TimberWolves game when he came to visit me than a Trail Blazers game. Of course, I chose to move to Portland.

About the time I was sending in my housing deposit, Rasheed Wallace (also a North Carolina graduate) had just earned his 41st technical foul in one season, breaking his own record from the previous year. My freshman year, I went to three Blazers games. I was in the stadium when Scottie Pippen was ejected for launching a ball into the stands like a discus. I had a subscription to The Oregonian when they reported that Bonzi Wells had flipped off a fan during a game, then responded to questions about the incident by saying, “I black out sometimes…” and then winking. He was quoted in Sports Illustrated saying that fans, “…Really don’t matter to us. They can boo us every day, but they’re still going to ask for our autographs if they see us on the street. That’s why they’re fans and we’re NBA players.” I was in college when Damon Stoudamire, Rasheed Wallace and Qyntel Woods were busted for Marijuana possession. Multiple times. I heard on the radio that Qyntel was dogfighting and Zach Randolph sucker punched his own teammate in the face. I was in Portland during the Jail Blazers years and they were rough. If Clyde Drexler had decided to come out of retirement for one last game in a Blazers jersey, you still would have been hard pressed to get me to pay $30 for a ticket.

But somehow, not long after I graduated college, things changed. The franchise realized that they’d lost the fans and it wasn’t because of their record; it was because of their players. Most of the ones with legal troubles were traded, and the ones who couldn’t be traded were benched. Nate McMillan was hired as coach and Brandon Roy was drafted out of the University of Washington. In 2007, Brandon Roy became Rookie of the Year (thus becoming Brandon R.O.Y.). Since then, things have continued taking off at the Rose Garden, and I’m now proud to say I can name all but 3 players on the team (and I may or may not have crushes on a few). I’ve already been to more Blazers games this season than I have the rest of my life combined and I’ve even begun watching them on TV; a first for me.

But the moment I really knew things had turned around came on Tuesday morning.

Monday evening, the Blazers played the Lakers, one of the few teams I really don’t like. Not for any particular reason other than I hate Kobe Bryant, but aren’t all team allegiances and rivalries based on flimsy circumstances and opinions? Anyway, the Blazers won. I’ll give that a moment to sink in. The Portland Trail Blazers beat the Los Angeles Lakers. In basketball.

In the game, Rudy Fernandez, one of our two adorable, flamboyant Spaniards, was fouled. It looked absolutely horrible. Nothing like Joe Theisman breaking his leg, but definitely a replay that made you cringe and grab your side in empathy.

I’m not going to waste even more of your time debating over whether Trevor Ariza deserved the Flagrant 2 foul he received, although I did think Dave at Blazer’s Edge had an interesting argument:

“This was the NBA equivalent of the helmet-to-helmet contact in the NFL. Is the helmet-to-helmet intentional every time? No. Does it cause injury every time? Of course not. But it’s dangerous and that’s why it’s been outlawed and why it’s punished every time. “

Anyway, back to my boys. The real moment came the next day when the team reacted on camera to what happened and the announcement that Ariza would not be punished further.

Did you see that? Those players didn’t talk any shit. They didn’t threaten Ariza or “black out” and get belligerent. They calmly stated they weren’t going to stand idly by and watch the Lakers take advantage of them. But they acknowledged that it was a tough call and they didn’t think anyone would want to hurt Rudy. Both Sergio Rodriguez and Brandon Roy even ended on a positive note.

Nate McMillan was the only person whose reaction was even slightly… unedited. When was the last time the coach was the most candid member of our team? And when I say “most candid”, I mean, “he shook his head and said, ‘I’m not going to say any more’ because he didn’t want to be too critical or negative.”

Ladies and gentlemen, I am a Portland Trail Blazers fan.

How to Have a Great Valentine’s Day (Even if You’re Single):

Step 1: Make cupcakes. Add red food coloring to make them pink and festive.
Step 2: Get coffee with friends in the morning. (Couples are okay.)
Step 3: Walk around NW Portland and enjoy the sun. Take photos.
Step 4: Do some shopping. Buy yourself a few things. You’re a fantastic date.
Step 5: Watch the NBA Slam Dunk Competition. Continue crushing on Rudy Fernandez.
Step 6: Rent a funny movie, have a cupcake (or 3) and work on the bottle of white wine you opened last night.
Step 7: Enjoy.

Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone!

I had the most amazing experience yesterday at a hardware store. I know how that sounds, but I’m not joking.

It all started a few weeks ago when I got my new Oregon license plates. I decided I really wanted to do something fun with my old plates. I have always thought license plates were pretty cool – I’ve kept my old ones whenever I’ve had to update and I even bought an awesome French plate when I was studying abroad. (I found a store in Cannes that would print them for you!)

So I decided to hang my license plate collection on my wall and attach hooks to some of them. I needed to buy some hooks, so I went online looking for the closest hardware store. I came across Hippo Hardware, which is locally owned, so I decided to check it out.

This place was unlike any hardware store I’d ever been in. First of all, the building covers approximately 30,000 square feet and is divided into 3 floors and one large entry room. The entry room is chock-full of every kind of hardware piece you can imagine, from hooks and pulls to doorknobs and mail slots. The various items are stocked in drawers (some labeled, some just waiting to surprise you), cabinets, shelves, and wall mounts. Just walking in the door is a completely overwhelming experience. They have new, used, broken, rusted, and handmade styles of… everything.

The other three floors are divided into plumbing, lighting, and architecture. However, these labels only loosely describe what you can find there. For instance, the plumbing floor may include bathtubs, sinks, and toilets, but it also features incredible antique fixtures for bidets, for instance, and an old school drinking fountain. The lighting floor was pretty amazing, but I definitely spent most of my time in the basement looking at doors, windows, ladders, and awesome decorative heating grates. The entire establishment sort of makes you feel like everyone’s grandparents emptied the contents of their attics (and various pieces of their houses) into the same building and then hundreds of people spent years organizing all of it. I mean, they even had a lime green toilet. And if my grandma didn’t own that, it’s only because she didn’t know it existed.

I walked around the place with my mouth agape for almost an hour, until they pretty much kicked me out (20 minutes after closing time) and it never even occurred to me to take photos. There are already lots on flickr, but I’m planning another trip back there next weekend to take a few of my own.

I do want to note, however, that the staff was incredibly friendly and quite funny. They not only let me roam around long after closing time, but they were very helpful and continued to joke with each other all afternoon over their paging system. I’ve never seen a group of people have so much fun working together and providing customer service. They seemed downright excited to hear about every customer’s project and the crazy things we had all dreamed up before coming into the store.

It’s hard to believe I left with only the hooks that I needed and not a ladder or window pane for my next craft project (although I’m already planning what I’m going to do with those items). Unfortunately, I was rather limited in my selection of hooks due to the placement of the holes in my license plates, but I’m very happy with the final product.

Hippo Hardware, thank you for helping me honor my Montana roots while supporting a local Portland (AWESOME) business.

For those of you who don’t live in Portland, we’ve been dealing with a local scandal for the past several days. In fact, I’ve had more conversations about Sam Adams (sadly, not the beer – the first openly gay mayor of a major US city) with friends and coworkers recently than I have about our new president. Here’s the rundown:

In 2005, Adams was a city commissioner. At the time, he made the acquaintance of a young legislative intern, whose name I’m not including in this post, frankly because I feel bad for him and all the press he’s getting. Two years later, when Adams was running for mayor, one of his opponents, who was also gay and a fellow Democrat, accused him of having a relationship with said intern, potentially before he was 18. Adams denied the relationship over and over, and even once went as far as to say this:

“If this had come from the right wing — and it probably will now — that would have been one thing. But to come from another gay man is something more hurtful. It plays into the worst deep-seated fears society has about gay men: You can’t trust them with your young.” — The Portland Mercury, Sept. 20, 2007

In spite of this potential scandal, Adams was elected Mayor of Portland in 2008 and was sworn in earlier this month. Then, on Tuesday, Mayor Adams released this letter admitting that he and the young former intern both lied publicly about the nature of their relationship. He said it was in fact sexual, but that the intern had turned 18 before they became involved (later on, the intern, who is now 21, was quoted as saying that he and Adams actually kissed twice before his 18th birthday, but that was all). Since Adams’ admission, all hell has broken loose in PDX and people are arguing in the streets.  Naturally, there are those who support Sam no matter what and those who think he should resign.

First of all, let me say that I’m really proud to live in a city that elected a gay mayor without really making it an issue. As far as I can tell, the only times his sexuality is even mentioned is in a positive way; he’s breaking new ground. Second, I don’t believe that Mayor Adams has done anything illegal. The only reason I feel it necessary to say that is because a lot of Sam’s supporters argue that we shouldn’t care what’s going on in his bedroom and that he hasn’t done anything wrong… therefore he should remain mayor. I agree to a certain degree – I don’t really ever want to know about politicians’ personal lives, but when someone who represents me and my city acts inappropriately, I do feel entitled to an opinion. I don’t care who they sleep with, unless it’s someone under the age of 18 and therefore illegal. Let me put it this way: If Sam Adams had responded in 2007 by saying, “Yes, I did have a relationship with this young man, but he was 18 at the time, it was completely consensual and I still care very deeply about him.” then I would be fine. I would probably question whether he actually waited until the kid turned 18, but overall I’d be fine.

But that’s not what happened. Instead, Mayor Adams proved to me that he has learned absolutely nothing from the last 15 years of politics. Liars never get away with it. The public always finds out. And the lying trumps any previous wrongdoing. And that’s exactly what happened – now I’m angry at him for lying. Not for sleeping with a really good-looking kid he met through work, not for dating someone over 10 years his junior, not even for kissing the guy before his 18th birthday. I can’t believe he not only thought he would get away with lying, but that he convinced the intern to lie as well and then tied the whole thing to a stereotype of gay men that he is now perpetuating. He became his own worst enemy. And now he’s used up his entire quota of forgiveness from the people of Portland before his first month of his first term is even over!

The really sad part is how this could possibly affect the queer community. As I said, I’m thrilled that Portland is so open-minded about this (on the whole – I don’t claim to know what everyone’s saying). I hope that they see this as a reflection of Sam Adams’ choices, and nothing else. I think most Americans understand that since Barack Obama is the first African-American president, he is in the very unfortunate position of not being able to make any mistakes. He can’t cut a single corner because he is pioneering this position for all African-Americans. Similarly, Sam Adams was a trail blazer (pun intended) for members of the LGBT community, and in my mind he blew it. I know it must be terrible to be under that kind of a microscope, but it’s the unfortunate price you pay for being the first.

I’m glad Sam Adams has refused to resign, and I’m glad he’s sorry. But I really, sincerely hope he can get past this and be the mayor we all thought he could be. I had a hard enough time coming to grips with my own disagreements over Clinton, and I wasn’t even old enough to vote for him. So, Sam, you’ve used up all of your forgiveness. You only have one chance and you can’t make any more mistakes. Ready…Go.