Out with the Old? I Sure Hope So.

I just read a news story online regarding the New Year--and the one that's just passed. But its tone was unlike anything I've seen before, all gloom and doom. It said that you know it's been a bad year if Parisians are cutting back on champagne, oysters, and foie gras to ring in the new year, and having a fish dinner instead. It interviewed people all over the world, and they were all despairing, saying what a terrible year it's been. Quoting the article: "The year 2008 can best be described as a year of crime, terrorist activities, bloodshed and accidents."
Whoa. The most optimistic thing mentioned was that people were looking forward to 2009 because it really couldn't be any worse than 2008.
Or could it?
In my personal case, I would call 2008 a mixed bag.

Here are the good things that happened to me:

• Got accepted to law school
• Went to Europe
• Had a happy summer
• Found a really nice house to live in
• Met new people
• Learned how to drive in the snow
• The Blazers are finally a good team again

And here are the bad:

• Inability to control my temper scares off some of the people I like the most
• Gained over 20 pounds
• Am probably a crazy person
• Lost a bunch of money in the stock market

And finally, here's what I'm hoping for in 2009:

• Not act crazy or lose my temper any more
• Lose 20 pounds
• Save up money and not use my credit cards much now that I've paid them all off
• Get good grades from my first semester of law school
• Make more friends
• Have someone appropriate fall in love with me

You can read the full article here: World Bids a Relieved Adieu to a Rocky Year

Lost the Thread

Remember a long time ago I said that I felt inspired to write a story? I got a couple paragraphs in, got distracted, and never finished it. I lost all of my ideas since then. But I'm not a quitter: I'm working on something new today, something I won't forget. And, I'm trying to be proactive about this whole writing thing. I found someone looking to form a writing group on craigslist, contacted her, and once she's back in town it will hopefully get going. And I can hopefully talk a couple of my friends into it too (the writer types, obviously, not the engineering types).

Epic Snow Journey Volume 3: Finals, Shuttles, & Portland's First Transgender Mayor

Stairs? What stairs?

I was determined to finish my final yesterday. After slipping and falling down in the intersection of of SE 39th and Powell-grrrreeeaat, I caught the bus downtown and, arriving at the shuttle stop, found one other girl waiting there. We waited and waited. The shuttle was late, assuming it was coming at all. Some ski shuttle cruised into the stop, but no one appeared to be waiting to catch it. We waited and waited some more for the Lewis and Clark shuttle. We began losing hope. "Hey, if I can talk the ski shuttle guy into driving us to Lewis and Clark, would you be down?" I asked the other girl. "Sure," she replied. But no. The shuttle driver was expecting one passenger. But it was okay, our actual shuttle showed up a couple of minutes later. The amiable driver, Rafi, gave us his phone number, so we could call and make sure that the shuttle was still running when we were done with our exams. It's snowing so hard that there's virtually no visibility. SE Portland across the river? Doesn't exist, sorry.
Finally! I had managed to successfully get to school to complete my final. I got set up, took off my shoes (my toes were really cold), and commenced. It was Civil Procedure, the one I was really dreading, but it actually wasn't bad. None of them were actually that bad.
Test completed, I head out to the shuttle stop, and called Rafi to confirm. No answer. I left a message. I checked my email. Uh oh. Campus sent out an email saying that the shuttle was no longer running. Crap! Now what? Should I attempt taking Trimet? As I was debating this, the bus I would have needed drove by. OK, nevermind, I guess that's not an option. I decided that a cab was the only way back home. I got through, but was on hold. Forever. And ever. And ever. Finally someone answered, and said that they would send a cab out to pick me up, but didn't know how long it would take. Then Robin, the girl from the shuttle ride to campus came outside. She had called Rafi a few minutes ago too, but he called her back. The shuttle was running! Yes! He should be here in 35 minutes Hmmm. I don't cancel the cab, but instead figure I'll just take whichever arrives first. Robin and I hang out in the student lounge, waiting, and making small talk. She's a 2L. "What do you want to do with your law degree?" I ask. "I'm not sure...I'm really interested in civil rights...or maybe I'll be Portland's first transgender mayor...." Wait a second, transgender? I never would have guessed. I have a ton of questions, but fear it would be impolite to ask, so I don't. But the thing is, she has a girl voice. Not an affected girl voice, but a true girl voice, girl mannerisms, etc. Guys I've met who've had sex changes still seemed like guys who were trying to look like girls. But she didn't. She was tall, and had big hands and feet for a girl, but other than that, totally a girl. She must be one of those rare people who actually was born with both parts, like Jamie Lee Curtis! Whoa. Laura's first transgender friend.
The shuttle arrives before the cab. We embark, and I realize just how much the weather has intensified.
WHAP-A-WHAP-A-WHAP-A
The chains on the shuttle were loose. They were so loud! Robin commented that they had a good beat. That's one way of looking at it. I try calling Radio Cab to cancel my taxi request. I'm on hold again. I put my phone on speaker phone, but I can't really hear anything over the whaping of the chains. I give up. My phone is VERY low on batteries. Maybe someone else will take my cab instead. Hopefully.
Nearing downtown, Robin tries to talk Rafi into dropping her off at her apartment, since she lives downtown. She succeeds. The shuttles winds its way through downtown, and on into the Pearl District. I hop off near Mio Gelato, and trudge a few blocks to the stop for the 17. A woman is standing there, I start to ask her if she knows when the bus will come, but anticipating my question, she cuts me off, saying that my guess is as good as hers. OK. I call Bruno, asking him to transit track the bus, to make sure I'm not freezing my toes in vain. It's 2.1 miles away. Not too far. We continue to wait, I get impatient, and call Bruno again to check the distance. .6 miles! It's almost here! Off in the distance we can see. I get on, relieved that I have a way to get home. But wait! What's the bus doing? It's going the wrong way! Oh, no worries. Trimet had set up a little maintenance station on a different street, and a chain on our bus's tire was broken. Chain replaced, we're finally on our way. The windows are iced and dirted over, no one can see out. Finally we hit 39th and Holgate. The next segment of my journey begins. It's incredibly cold and windy, snowing heavily, with little pellets pricking my face. The snow is so deep and powdery that it's like walking through sand. It's dark out. My toes are frozen. My thumbs are frozen. It's the longest four blocks I've ever walked. I finally reach my house, but so much snow has accumulated that the steps are non-existent. Bruno opens the door for me; I look like the abominable snowman. For the record, I left home at 9:45 that morning, my test was three hours, and what time did I finally make it home? 5:30 p.m. That's right. It was a long, cold day.

Here's some photos I took last night:

Notice how much snow had drifted up against our front door!

This morning, I noticed that Chompsky was practically buried.

Here's our backdoor snow drift. Pretty impressive.

Why I am Awake at 5:30 a.m.

I'm not a morning person. I prefer staying up late, and waking up late. So why am I up now? Because I am afraid that I'm never going to have opportunity to finish my Civil Procedure Exam. I was so stupid yesterday: I should have either just taken the bus all the way downtown and caught the Lewis and Clark shuttle, or sucked it up and attempted driving there. All the other X-Countrys I saw driving around in SW were doing just fine. None fishtailed, spun out, slid, etc. They drove like nobody's business.
So I can't sleep because I'm afraid that I won't have a chance to finish all my exams, will fail out of law school as a result, and my life will be ruined. OK, probably none of that will happen, I'm being overly dramatic, I'm sure I'm not the only person in this position, and I'm also sure that the law school is well aware that there are many students haven't been able to take all their exams due to school closure or inability to travel. Campus is closed again today. So I should be positive and just think of it as extra time to study, right?
But I really want to be done with it all! I want to be able to relax, watch a movie, read a non-textbook, cook, or just generally goof off without feeling guilty because I could be studying. Oh, and did I mention that I already had a new Civil Procedure reading assignment emailed to me, even though finals are not over yet? Ugh.
I would also prefer to be asleep right now, but I don't think that's going to happen. I think it's going to be afternoon nap by the fake fireplace instead.

The Swedish Know Snow Better Than I Or, Epic Snow Journey, Volume 2

It's been snowing. The sideroads are icy. This week is finals. School was closed yesterday due to the weather, and it's pretty likely it will be closed tomorrow. I need to take my frickin unscheduled Civil Procedure sometime, and today was supposed to be the day. And so my epic snow story (my snow stories are always epic, I wonder why?) commences.
I'm from Portland, so I don't really know how to drive in the snow. I have a Volvo X-Country, which supposedly does better than usual in the snow, but I've been too much of a chicken to really try it out. As a result, I'm sitting right now, on a frigid 29-degree Tuesday night, at Tryon Creek Bar and Grill. I'm not supposed to be here. I'm supposed to be sitting in classroom 1 or 4 frantically wracking my brain over Civil Procedure. How did I get here?
This afternoon, having finished my notes by 2:45, I decided I would forgo a winter driving adventure and take the bus to Lewis & Clark. iPod in ears, I left the house, made it a block, and fell smack down on my butt. OK, I'll be more careful from now on. I got the the bus stop, and waited. And waited. The couple waiting with me got impatient and walked off, just as #9 was coming. And that, dear readers, is a harbinger of things to come.
Got off the 9 at 1st and Arthur, as directed. Wandered briefly, then found the correct stop. #43 came in less than 5 minutes. Perfect. All is going well.
The bus winds its way though SW Portland neighborhood I've never seen. Beautiful Victorian homes covered in snow. Hills. Quaint little coffee shops. Things start looking familiar again: I've arrived at my next transfer point: Terwilliger and Taylor's Ferry. I get off the bus and wander around again, this time not so briefly, looking for the next bus stop. I think I've found it, so I park it there for several minutes. I was wrong.
I check my notes against the bus number posted on the stop. Damn! I need 39, and I've been waiting at a 38 stop. Turns out the stop directly across from where I got off is actually the one I need. The one that had lots of buses passing though but I had ignored, thinking it was the wrong stop. Crap!
After some slipping and sliding, I repark it at the correct bus stop. I wait. And wait. And wait. I see a cute little poodle wearing boots; it seems like the boots cause the poodle to high-step. It's starting to get dark. A beautiful, stark winter sunset. Headlights shimmer in reflection off the ice: glass mirrored in glass. Cars start skidding out more often. My toes begin to get numb. I've been at this damn stop for nearly an hour.
I call Alex, hoping he can look up the arrival time for the bus. No answer. I call Bruno, with the same question. No answer. I call Joe. He's driving. My car. If I was less of a chicken, I would have been driving my car, I would have been in the warm bastion of Lewis & Clark Law School, taking my dreaded Civ. Pro exam. But instead, I'm standing on ice in SW Portland with numb toes and no idea of when the next bus will come. (The fried food scents are overcoming me: mmm, I wish I could have a bacon cheeseburger, nachos, something delicious and greasy. I wish the waiter would come by so I could order another hot toddy. Yes, this is an aside.)
I try calling Trimet, but it's a no-go: busy signal. Everyone's calling Trimet. My phone rings. Yes!! It's Bruno, the Trimet king. He looks up my bus, and says that it's coming in 35 minutes, according to Transit Tracker. But now, I curse Transit Tracker.
35 minutes! I will just try walking. I stomp off, nearly falling down again. I look back, maybe a minute later, and there's the goddamn bus. Curse you Transit Tracker!! Maybe I can just walk the rest of the way.
Nope. I reach a downward slope. An ICY downward slope. Pretty sure I'll fall down again if I attempt it. Godf*kda*n it! I turn around and head back to the bus stop. My phone rings again. It's Alex. I tell him my predicament, and promptly melt down. Then my phone cuts out. Melting, melting, melting. I call Alex back. I ask if he can pick me up on his way home. Yes. Alex is the best person in the whole world! I hesitate there at the bus stop for a moment. Should I go to Chez Jose, Starbucks, or Tryon Creek Grill to wait for him? Another guy shows up at the bus stop. He starts asking me when the bus will come, does it go downtown, etc. I tell him yes, it goes downtown, but it will be at least 20 minutes. I guess he notices that I look upset. He says he's going to Starbucks to wait and offers to buy me a coffee. I demur. I finally decide to go to Tryon Creek. Here I am.
I'm typing. It's a dive bar, but I have to say, I actually like it now. The fact that it's the only one near campus lends it a different feeling than a dive bar anywhere else. OK, big imagination time: it's like a bar on tv, like the one the characters on Grey's Anatomy hang out with occasionally after work, only instead of medical students, it's law students. Yes, I know I'm a dork. That's okay. But it really seems like you could be anyone here, and it's okay. I probably look like a total weirdo typing away and drinking a hot toddy while most everyone else has a beer and is watching sports. But really, it's okay. They're playing Modest Mouse and Pearl Jam. A bunch of guys on the other side of the room exclaim "OOHHHH!" every so often because they're playing Wii bowling or something. Did I mention the delicious greasy food? I'm not partaking of any right now, unfortunately, because I have too much crap with me, and I'll have to go to the bathroom first--Alex arrived! I love Alex! I'm buying him a beer.
And I will take my test tomorrow morning at 8. I'll ask Joe to drop me off on his way to work. My toes have defrosted, my head is hot-toddied, and I'm feeling much better now.
The moral of this story: trust your Swedish car. It will probably get you there.

Yay! Snow!

It snowed all day yesterday, the first really good, earnest snow in probably four years. Blowing snow, howling wind, below freezing temperatures all day. Here's our cute house in the snow:

I tried to go out for a walk, but my friend texted me, saying she would be coming over soon (houses, as opposed to apartments, are the place to be when it snows--three people came over yesterday), so I promptly dropped my cell phone in the snow, and turned back towards home. No harm done, though. The phone, although a little scratched, works just fine.
Chompsky was blinded by the white.

Funny hat brigade.
The kitties weren't too sure about the snow though.


Today is bright and sunny, but super cold. 25 degrees right now, but with the windchill, it feels like 13. Brrrr.
And I have two finals to take this week, but Lewis and Clark was closed today. I was aiming to finish my unscheduled one tomorrow, but we'll see if the law school is open or not. If it's not, I guess that just means I will have extra time to study. The school is in a woodsy, somewhat hilly area, and it's probably more difficult to get around there than it is down in the city. We'll see. It's supposed to snow again Wednesday, and then revert back to sunny but frigid, like today. No sign of melting in the next week. Honestly, I'm enjoying it.
Yesterday, when Andrea and Bruno's mom were over, we all cooked: Bruno whipped up a frittata and fried potatoes, Liz and Andrea baked chocolate chip butterscotch chip oatmeal cookies, and I made Amish Friendship bread (the bread that self-propagates). It was a great lunch. Then later on, although Andrea and Emma were gone, Alex showed up, and Joe came home from work, so we ordered pizza, watched the hysteria-inducing weather updates, and played an epic, four and a half hour game of Monopoly.
It was an excellent day.

OK, Here's Our Tree

Pretty nice, huh?

Coming Soon....

I'll post a couple photos of our Christmas tree soon. I could have posted them last night, but was too lazy.

Not Sure What Book to Read Next?

A friend of a friend who's now my friend writes for Willamette Week, a weekly paper here in Portland, which also provides a blogspace for him to review books each week. He's smart and cheeky, and his reviews are fun to read. It's an excellent way discover new books. It's called Tome Raider, and the link is posted in my Link List. Check it out!

Short-Term Memory

I actually felt inspired to try to write a story yesterday, and additional ideas keep on popping up. But by the time I got home, got my computer out, and got down to business, I had forgotten some of my best ideas. Damn! How can I prevent that in the future?

Imminent Holiday Doom

Thanksgiving was a great success, despite apple pie that had been smooshed in a vegetable drawer overnight (I had worked so hard decorating it too! oh well), and a whipped cream misunderstanding and subsequent emergency. Both incidents had the same perpetrator, who shall remain nameless, and it wasn't me, just so you know. Both were also resolved, fortunately.
As a funny aside, once the whipping cream problem was discovered, said perpetrator suggested, in all earnestness, that we just try to whip the cream that had chives swimming in it and was presently flavored with essence of potato. That idea was obviously vetoed.

The roommate situation is still going well, aside from me acting like a self-pitying baby Saturday night.

Finals are next week and the one after. I have three. I plan on studying like mad. I am also pleased to report that due to the fact that finals are graded on a curve, it is an extremely rare thing for anyone to fail them. Not that I would do that badly, but it's still reassuring to hear.
After that, I will be FREE for almost a month. But, it is the dreaded, depressing holiday season. Joe and Liz are going back to their respective home states from Christmas to New Year's Eve, and I fear extreme loneliness during that period. Bruno will still be here, but he works really late sometimes. I'll probably end up missing Joe the most because we have the same schedules: we drive to work together, go home together, and laugh at each other. It's like having a sidekick. Liz has been coming home really late recently, not sure what she's up to.
I tried to pre-empt the Christmas doom by attempting to make travel plans. Lufthansa was having a big 1-day sale on flights to Europe a couple months ago, and since running away on the Fourth of July worked so well, I thought, well, why not Christmas?

But my prospective travel companion actually likes (???) Christmas, and wanted to be in town for it. So that would kind of defeat the purpose. Plus, I realized I couldn't really afford it. So I'm stuck in town all by myself. I hate Christmas and I really hate New Year's Eve. Both tend to make me feel like crap. Holidays are great if you have a family and/or get invited to lots of stuff, but if neither is the case, as is my case, it just kind of makes you wish you were never born.

Top 5 Most Depressing Holidays:
1. New Year's Eve
2. Valentine's Day
3. Christmas
4. Thanksgiving (not this year, though!)
5. Fourth of July

Cool.

Tiny, long-lost primate rediscovered in Indonesia

By Will Dunham Will Dunham – Tue Nov 18, 6:32 pm ET

Reuters – This undated handout photo shows a creature called a pygmy tarsier, believed for the eight decades to …

WASHINGTON (Reuters) – On a misty mountaintop on the Indonesian island of Sulawesi, scientists for the first time in more than eight decades have observed a living pygmy tarsier, one of the planet's smallest and rarest primates.

Over a two-month period, the scientists used nets to trap three furry, mouse-sized pygmy tarsiers -- two males and one female -- on Mt. Rore Katimbo in Lore Lindu National Park in central Sulawesi, the researchers said on Tuesday.

They spotted a fourth one that got away.

The tarsiers, which some scientists believed were extinct, may not have been overly thrilled to be found. One of them chomped Sharon Gursky-Doyen, a Texas A&M University professor of anthropology who took part in the expedition.

"I'm the only person in the world to ever be bitten by a pygmy tarsier," Gursky-Doyen said in a telephone interview.

"My assistant was trying to hold him still while I was attaching a radio collar around its neck. It's very hard to hold them because they can turn their heads around 180 degrees. As I'm trying to close the radio collar, he turned his head and nipped my finger. And I yanked it and I was bleeding."

The collars were being attached so the tarsiers' movements could be tracked.

Tarsiers are unusual primates -- the mammalian group that includes lemurs, monkeys, apes and people. The handful of tarsier species live on various Asian islands.

As their name indicates, pygmy tarsiers are small -- weighing about 2 ounces (50 grammes). They have large eyes and large ears, and they have been described as looking a bit like one of the creatures in the 1984 Hollywood movie "Gremlins."

They are nocturnal insectivores and are unusual among primates in that they have claws rather than finger nails.

They had not been seen alive by scientists since 1921. In 2000, Indonesian scientists who were trapping rats in the Sulawesi highlands accidentally trapped and killed a pygmy tarsier.

"Until that time, everyone really didn't believe that they existed because people had been going out looking for them for decades and nobody had seen them or heard them," Gursky-Doyen said.

Her group observed the first live pygmy tarsier in August at an elevation of about 6,900 feet.

"Everything was covered in moss and the clouds are right at the top of that mountain. It's always very, very foggy, very, very dense. It's cold up there. When you're one degree from the equator, you expect to be hot. You don't expect to be shivering most of the time. That's what we were doing," she said.

Croquet Tournament

Joe wanted to finally make use of his graduation present: a croquet set. (Don't ask. I have no idea.) So we donned our croquet apparel and hit the grass.

Even Chompsky got in on the action.
Liz's opening shot.
Pose fancy boy!



Ohhh! It didn't go through the wicket! Yet again.
Belt loops aka mallet holder.
Chompsky did not win.

1st place: Joe
2nd place: Laura
Tim wasn't too sure about all this.

Photos From My Birthday Party

I turned 29 November 1, and celebrated with a combination birthday/housewarming party. I would call it a success. So here are a few photos from the party:

Joe, networking, per usual, and Dominic chatting with Robin.

Some people I don't know.
Alex, reading comics.
Maureen, Paul, and Liz all looking super excited.
Ah, Bruno. Always the artiste.

Conspiracy of Coincidence: aka Spain

I hadn't thought much about Spain recently, but it all came rushing back this week. Really, it all started on Wednesday. Wednesday was Aldo's (and Margaret's, but she doesn't fit the Spain pattern) birthday. Year 32, I believe. So I gave him a ring and he answered! In Spain! I got to hear Spanish dial tone! So I wished him happy birthday and we had our little broken English/broken Spanish conversation, just like when I was there. And then I remembered Spain. I love Spain. Here's a photo of Aldo and me. He's cute and funny.
Then, I was out on my lunchbreak today, and for once didn't have to do homework, so I read a book I had started before I began school: Ernest Hemingway's For Whom the Bell Tolls:Where does it take place? Spain, during the Spanish Civil War. Sigh.
Then, I was reading this newsletter I get called "Goop," which had goings-on in various art museums in various cities, one of which was Madrid. OH! They mentioned a couple of museums that I had tried, and failed, to go to. Reiner Sofia, for example.
Finally, I picked out a movie to go see tonight with my friends, and decided on "TransSiberian." It takes place in Russia, on the TransSiberian railway, and involved gangsters. The cast advertised are all Americans and Brits. But sure enough, it was actually a Spanish film. In fact, the hottie from "Obre los Ojos" is in it.

I have to go back. I love Spain.

Obama Wins; Portland Celebrates en masse!

Last night was amazing! It's so exciting when an entire city is on the same page. Everyone was outside cheering, banging pots and pans, honking, and setting off fireworks for hours. It was unlike anything I've seen before, and I loved it.
It's definitely the beginning of a new, great era. I'm so glad that I canvassed for Obama, even though it was a teeny, tiny act, the end result was huge and fabulous, and it's so exciting to have been an active part of it.

As Promised...

I added photos of my new [haunted] house to my previous post. I shot them yesterday, on Halloween, as it seemed appropriate. Check them out!

I had the best Halloween in years yesterday. Before I left for class, we started carving our pumpkins. Then, at school, our professors let us out early, so I was able to get home by 8:45.
Arriving home, the scent of cake greeted me. Liz was baking my birthday cake! Also, they had roasted all the pumpkin seeds from the pumpkins that we had carved earlier.
So we hung out, watched the Blazer game (they won! By one point! Very exciting game!), ate roasted pumpkin seeds and pomegranate, and then got cozy with the cats and tried to watch a Spanish horror movie called "The Orphanage." It seemed better than most horror movies, but Joe and I both fell asleep, so I guess it wasn't all that exciting.
But anyway, it was an all-around excellent Halloween.

I Live in a Haunted House

À propos for Halloween.

Last night, Joe was transferring his laundry from the washer to the dryer, when he noticed a little message from our landlords written in the laundry closet. We don't know if it was directed to us, the previous tenants, or just tenants in general. Anyway, it went something like this:

"It's so awesome that you're living in our house...and by the way, the living room is haunted with a she-ghost. Harmless but sneaky*...."
*The was some controversy as to whether or not it said "sneaky" or "freaky." But as 2/3 of us thought it said "sneaky," I'm going with that interpretation.

Whoa! I had been sitting downstairs by myself studying. After we discovered this, I hightailed it upstairs and went to bed. It was nearly midnight, after all. Prime ghost time, if you ask me!
I had been noticing something funny: There's no overhead light in the living room, but some outlets correspond to switches, so if we plug in lamps to those outlets, turn them on while the corresponding switch is in the on position, then we can turn all those lamps on and off using the switch instead of the individual lamp switches. So that's the plan. But whenever I come home at night, the whole lamp routine has been screwed up, and the switch won't control them, so I have to re-set everything up. I figured it was one of my roommates who had been turning the lamps off from the base, because they forgot or something.
But I asked Joe if he had been doing that, and he said no. So maybe the ghost has been horsing around with our lamp setup! (Well, either the ghost or Liz, I haven't asked her yet. But it would be much more exciting if the ghost did it.)

Our house is exactly 100 years old. Probably lots of exciting/weird/creepy things happened there over the years. I think it would be so interesting to research it, find out what it looked like back then, what the neighborhood was like (it was a farmhouse, maybe there used to be a barn?), who lived there, how it was furnished, etc. But I wouldn't know where to start looking.

In the meantime, check this out, I found it on Peppermint Creek's blog: Super Creepy Historic Halloween Costumes.

The Autumn I Always Hoped For

Every fall, I hope to do cozy fall things, but in the past, it's never worked out, I'm not sure why. Maybe my friends were feeling like party poopers or something. A couple years ago, for example, I drove out to Hood River all by myself, exploring the Fruit Loop, a beer festival, and picking out a pumpkin. It was a beautiful, sunny day, but come on! By myself? How sad is that?

But that's not the case this year! Over the weekend, Liz organized an outing to the Corn Maize on Sauvie Island, which was a-maizing (heh), and tonight we're all going to carve pumpkins. Yay!
Best of all, we're going to do Thanksgiving at our house this year. Normally, I just go to my parents' house, but Liz (who's from Austin) and Joe (from Boulder) aren't going home for Thanksgiving, and we have a huge house, so we all thought it would be a lot of fun to put on our own Thanksgiving. My parents and various orphans will be joining us. I'm really excited!

Crisis Averted

The kitty is supposed to stay inside until he's acclimated to his new home, which means that we need to make sure not to leave the doors open.
Liz was about ready for bed when she realized she didn't know where Tim was. She checked the whole house, but he was nowhere to be found. Uh oh. There was a lot of in and outing yesterday, as the trash needed to be put by the curb. What if he had snuck out during the 5 seconds the door was left open?
Liz begins to give up, Joe and I start looking in nooks and crannies. Just as Liz is about to retire for the night, we hear a yell from the basement: "Found him!"
Tim races up the stairs into Liz's room with a look on his face that tells us he knows he's been naughty.
He was hiding in the basement. Yes, Liz had already looked there, but it took a scary newcomer like Joe to rouse him from his hiding place.
What a relief.