Friday, March 6, 2009

Blocked Blog

The geniuses at my work block certain websites that are "inappropriate" for work.

This blog is now blocked.

Monday, February 16, 2009


go to for your own:

Conclusion: I say "like" and "really" too much. I sound like a really dumb valley girl.

Shit, there I go again.

Friday, February 6, 2009


Hey you guys, remember in Back to the Future II when future Marty gets fired from that Asian dude and he sends him a fax that says "YOU'RE FIRED!!!"? Too funny. Faxing is obsolete... and it's not even 2015 yet.

Monday, February 2, 2009

What brings you to Portland?

I have yet to tell anyone the truth about why I moved here. I embellished a few of the more minor reasons, but the true MAIN reason I moved here was for a guy I "loved", but love is such a stupid word and infatuation can feel stronger, but isn't love. I used to tell everyone who loved that they were naive and "love" is nothing more than the equivalent of eating mass amounts of chocolate in a single sitting. I believe this to be true. But said individual whom I "loved" didn't live in Portland. He lived in Philadelphia. Plot thickens.

Here's the back story: Chris and I knew each other for a long time in Kansas City. We partied together, but were never more than friends. In fact, the thought of being more than friends had never even crossed my mind. I didn't feel "that way" about him. I thought of him as a friend, and nothing more, but I knew he felt "that way" about me. I always knew.

He went away. He moved back to the east coast and eventually found his way to Philadelphia where he lived for years. We still kept in contact, every one in a while a phone call was made just to catch up on things. I like to keep tabs on my friends after they've gone.

I began having dreams about him. "Distance makes the heart grow fonder"? True. I felt very strongly that I messed something up. I couldn't believe I let him go away.

I called him late one night, after a few too many, and confessed. He told me he felt "the same way" about me. For months, we continued a phone, long-distance "I love you" relationship. Fucked up, huh?

The dilemma: Chris lives in Philly, I live in Kansas City. What to do? Chris and I fantasized about moving to the west coast. He wanted to expand his musical career and I wanted to get away. I was feeling trapped in Kansas City. "I feel 40" I said in a journal entry. I decided to move away--closer to him. In order to do that, I needed to sell my home. So I moved in with my parents in Michigan while the house sat on the market for 167 days. No buyers. I couldn't stand living in Detroit, not finding work, and STILL being away from Chris. This was getting pointless. Didn't I move away to be with him? So why am I stuck here? I cashed out my 401k and ran away--again.

I went, where else? Philly! I wasn't nervous about seeing Chris again for the first time in ages until I finally entered the city. I had a blast there. I loved the oldness and I loved New York. But Chris and I didn't pursue and loving, deep relationship like I thought we would. I mean, how do you do that when you haven't seen the person in years? We sorta "dated" but really never romantically did anything. Ever. I was quite disappointed that I had changed my life so much and for next to nothing. We continued together, as friends, and took all summer finally getting to Portland.

"Love" shouldn't have been the reason. But it was.

I felt betrayed. I felt like he had used me to get here--an elaborate plan to expand his music career. Like I was a wagon or something. "Sure! I'll give you a ride!" We were roommates, until I moved out, and I learned that he was... not the person I thought. What will years of being apart do to a person? Think what it did to him. Think what it did to me.

Chris and I barely talk now.


In the last few weeks, I've been wondering what I'm still doing here. People ask, "What brings you to Portland?" I can't tell them the truth. It just sounds so pathetic. Wait... it is so pathetic. So I tell people I just needed a change, which was true, and that I couldn't get work in Detroit, which was true, and that I felt trapped in Kansas City, which was true, but all these things were not the main reason for moving and changing my life.

What brings me to Portland? Nothing. I've been here for 6 months already, and I still feel like an outsider. I've been trying to stick it out. Find some cool friends and have a good time. I have found cool people and friends, but it's tough when I think about the hundreds of friends I have/had in KC. Tough to think that I can never go back there, for fear of being perceived as having my tail between my legs. Before I left KC, I had a going-away party and Will said, "You're not moving." I proved him wrong, but for what?

Either way, I'm pathetic. Pathetically sad and still lost. Lost in an ocean of apartments and drowning. When I get close to the surface to break for air, something grabs my leg and drags me back down to the bottom.

I continue to drown.

Wednesday, January 21, 2009


There's this Avon lady who comes by my work all the time to peddle crappy makeup and hideous accessories. She comes by the front desk (where I work) and gives us 6-7 Avon catalogues and we act like we're really excited to see them. Then as soon as she's gone, we trash them.... except today. Today I'm pretty bored, so I decided to flip through the catalogue a little bit, just to kill time. And that's when I saw the most hideous shoes I'd ever seen in my life:

I mean, platform moccasins?! Is that what they're trying to convince people to buy?! Those are just plain nasty.

But that got me thinking... you know, there are probably more hideous shoes out there. So I google imaged "hideous shoes" and I found them. The most hideous and COMPLICATED shoes on earth:

Tangents and Wikipedia

I often bring up the term “conversational tangents.” Picture this: A friend and I are having a conversation over a spliff or whatever, we’re on the porch, because we’re porch monkeys (I decided this term isn’t racist, we call ourselves porch monkeys because we hang out on the porch a lot). We’ll be on the topic of high school, remembering stories and how much cocaine I sold to people and guaranteed good grades until graduation. Then we’ll start talking about school buses and about the time that my friend Jade threw Stephen Carter’s left shoe out the window on the highway. Then we’ll start talking about the color of the school buses and who decided to make school buses such an unattractive color. Then we’ll start talking about other hideous colors like baby poop green. Then we’ll start talking about the fact that when babies are first born, their poop doesn’t stink until the first week is over and then it smells like the worst smell you’ve ever smelled. And so on and so on. First we were talking about high school and now we’re talking about fowl-smelling baby shit. I call these occurrences “conversational tangents.” That’s all conversations are: a series of tangents.

I get lost in Wikipedia. I simply love it. I’m on a wiki page, and then some of the words are clickable links to their Wikipedia page. It’s fantastic! I’ll be reading about Hawaii, then I click on “highest mountains”, then I click on “Mount Everest”, then I click on “Great Trigonometric Survey”, then I click on “India”, then I discover that the population of India is 1,147,995,904!! And then I learned something. I love surfing Wikipedia. I could do it for hours… and do.

So, in many ways, conversational tangents are a lot like Wikipedia.

End of post.