The Walk-By

At Escape From New York Pizza, the pizza making station is right in the front window, facing the street. So now every time I walk by there, the guy smiles at me at he throws the dough around in the air. I'm local, I'm a regular. It's nice to be recognized.

Birds? Alarm Clock? Same Thing.

The last couple weeks or so, the birds seem to know it's spring, even if the weather doesn't, so they've been chirping accordingly. At 6:00 a.m. in fact. Chirp, chirp chirp, chirp (in a ridiculously cheerful tone). The damn birds have been waking me up every morning at that ungodly hour!
Around the same period that the birds started, I noticed that the backlight on my alarm clock has randomly been getting brighter. The backlight is adjustable: no light, low light, or very bright. I always leave it on the low light setting, but have noticed recently that in the mornings sometimes it's at the very bright setting, and have no idea why. It's been really confusing me.
Well, today, the mystery was solved. Apparently, I've been pressing my snooze button at 6:00 a.m. when the birds start chirping. The snooze button is the same button that adjusts the lighting when the alarm isn't active. So in my three-quarters-asleep state, I've started confusing the chirping with the beeping of my alarm. I find that pretty amusing. Hopefully you will too.
My actual alarm clock is pictured below:

Media [Re]Discoveries

Increasingly often lately, I've gotten in the frame of mind where I want to hear all the music from a particular band, or watch all the movies from a particular director. If they are at least somewhat brilliant, you can usually detect a theme running through their work, no matter how disparate the subject matter. It's fun to try to figure out what they're trying to figure out. So here's the most recent roundup.

My friend drove me to a party Saturday, and he had the newest Radiohead CD playing in his car. There's just something about Radiohead. I don't know what it is, but they thrill. So I dug out my "Hail to the Thief" CD and had it rotating in my car. It got annoying though, because my stupid ex-boyfriend was incapable of properly burning a CD, so it skipped constantly. But from what I could hear, it reminded me how awesome Radiohead is. So I went out and bought a non-skipping version of "Hail to the Thief," plus "In Rainbows," just for good measure.

They're all I imagined them to be. So far, I think "Hail to the Thief" might be the superior album; it just has so much momentum, you know? But whenever a new Radiohead CD comes out there's always so much buzz, hype, and anticipation surrounding it. They always seem to take a unique approach to things. And it's all totally justified.

Next up in the media tour is Michel Gondry. He's the French director of "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind," "The Science of Sleep," and most recently "Be Kind, Please Rewind." I haven't seen the most recent one, but the other two make it quite apparent that dreams, memory, and their interrelation figure prominently in his psyche. I find that very interesting, and particularly applicable to me lately, as lately I noticed that I'll remember something, but then be not quite sure if it was something that actually happened, or if I am remembering a segment of a dream. Weird, yes, I know. Maybe I'm going crazy. Oh, yeah, and Bjork had him direct one of her videos. Bjork is cool and very strange, but unself-consciously so, which I take as an indication that she's for real. When people try to hard to be a certain way or type, and are obviously very conscious of it, it's an indication that that's not who they really are. If it was, then they wouldn't have to try, would they?

Finally, I discovered through a link on Andrea's blog a site called Racialicious. It's commentary, blog-style, on pop culture and race. Very interesting, especially if you fall into the ethnically ambigous/alienated from your culture categories like I do.

Cocktail? Tapas? It all goes together.

My friend Alex threw a party last night, and it was a lot of fun. Some of us thought it was supposed to be a cocktail party, and others of us (Alex) thought it was a tapas party. But they both kind of go together as they involve little hor dourvesery snacks, so it all worked. Here are the anxiously awaited photos.

Monica, Joe, and Liz in the kitchen.

Liz looking happy and pretty.

Sadie and Sam:Margaret and Eboni, out for a smoke:Okay, that's me:Alex and Bruno are very special friends:

Nick and his girlfriend.

I'll let you draw your own conclusions about these three photos:

And now just some random ones to throw in:

DIY LYD

The floor in my bathroom was super gross: linoleum that as mildewy in places and had ground in dirt in other places. No matter how clean the rest of my bathroom was, the floor totally ruined the effect. I suppose I could have asked my manager to change it, but I've noticed that the tenants who ask him for things often tend to get their rent raised. So I decided it would be cheaper in the long run to just do it myself. I got vinyl tiles that were self-stick. Really, the hardest thing about the whole process was cutting the tiles to fit in oddly-shaped spaces, such as around the toilet. So here's a pictoral of my little DIY project.

Before: Yucky Linoleum

Step 2: Apply latex primer to the floor

Next: Stick tiles to the floor, have Alex help (I really did most of it myself, I just needed some supervision at times).

Finally, done! It looks pretty nice, huh?

Nose Picking: Overrated as a Crime?

Everyone tells little kids not to pick their nose. It's nasty, it's impolite, etc. etc. Sometimes, though, it's the only way to get some relief.
But before I left for vacation last month, my nose has been really dry. I was not the only one: one of my friends had been complaining of the same affliction. Then, being in the frigid Midwest, the air seemed much drier, and the dry nose problem was exacerbated. We were all complaining of hardened snot. Very, very uncomfortable.
Upon returning to Portland, the problem improved, but was not eliminated entirely.
A male "special" friend texted me, asking me what I was doing, and while I ought to be smooth and attractive and all that baloney around him, I sometimes just don't feel like it. So my reply was "nose picking." It took him quite a while to reply to that. I bet he was puzzled. I bet he assumed I was kidding.
But was I?

The Last of My Trip: Goodbye Toronto, Hello Chicago!

Our last morning in Toronto: it was time to hit the road. We made a last coffee pilgrimage to a yet undiscovered neighborhood, and damn! it was cool, but we didn't realize it existed until we were about to leave. So no time for exploration. So that's my latte below from Dark Horse Espresso. It was good, I was happy drinking coffee, but sad to leave Toronto. But a new adventure awaited me in Chicago.Right after we left the coffee shop, we saw this crazy house. I think it was supposed to be art. It sort of looks like my parents' basement taken outside. Yikes. The most random assortment of crap, all on display.
Joel, unfortunately, decided to just head back home to Wisconsin, so it was just Margaret and me continuing the vacation. We made a pit stop for some CDs for the drive, but alas, the shop wasn't quite open yet. No worries, we bought pizza and junk food to pass the time. Finally, it's open, and it's super cool: all Canadian music. So we bought probably 10 CDs between the two of us, and finally launched onto the highway.
The forecast was snow, and but we didn't really believe it. The sky was blue, after all! But wait, look at this (my first ever uploaded video clip):

That's right. Snow. Uh oh. But the sunshine came back soon enough. No problem. And, Margaret rented a Subaru.

We finally enter Chicago, and find our hotel. Boy, is it ever swwaaannnky! Seriously. Probably the nicest hotel I've ever stayed in, and really, the price wasn't that bad: $200/night for a two-bed room. They even provided Kiehl's toiletries instead of the usual crappy stuff. Kiehl's is expensive. Here's my ultra luxurious bed. Yes, that is a down comforter.The not-so-mini bar, complete with stereo, proper bar ware, and your choice of either full size or miniature bottle of high-end liquor. The illustrious bathroom, with marble vanity (notice little bottles of Kiehl's on the shelf):And the little sitting area:After a minor crisis involving me not knowing where my kit was, we were ready to explore Chicago. We weren't really sure where to go; a city guide provided by the hotel didn't seem to be much help. But Margaret thought Wicker Park might be THE neighborhood, so that's were we went. Cafe Absinthe was closing (it was after 10:00), so we couldn't go there, and the spots the city guide suggested for that neighborhood looked lame. Margaret mentioned a replica "speakeasy" that was supposed to be very cool, and very hidden. She couldn't find it when she was here a few days earlier, but I encouraged her to look again. We wandered around, got a little confused, and Margaret was nearly ready to give up. But I said "No! Press on! We'll find it!" And we did. And it was awesome. It was very hidden though: no signs up anywhere, it was pretty much just a bunch of plywood. See what I mean:But inside, leather banquettes, crystal chandeliers, and elegant (although honestly not especially thrilling) food and drinks.So, yeah. The Violet Hour was awesome. After that, we just went back to the hotel, and went to sleep. It was a fun night. Ah, my luxurious bed.

The next morning however, I woke up, opened the curtains and saw:

Oh my gosh! Snow! The weathermen were right. I didn't expect this at all. Then, when I came out of the shower later, Margaret had put the flat-screen tv (did I mention the hotel room had a fancy flat-screen tv?) on some movie called "Mousehunt" or "Mousetrap" or something. I don't know. But the snow, combined with that movie (the saturated colors, the kid-friendly material) made it feel like Christmas. Weird.
We checked out and went back to Wicker Park to look for brunch. As we were ordering, Margaret's sister called. Uh oh. Her travel difficulty saga continues. It seemed that due to the snow, Continental decided to cancel all flights out of O'Hare. My flight, on Southwest, out of Midway, was fine. Hmm.

By this time, it was seriously snowing. I mean SERIOUSLY.We stop off for gas:

And then, since Margaret's flight is non-existent, she gives me a ride to the airport, and decided to return her rental car there, to avoid excessive fees. We head our separate ways. But an hour later, she calls me. She managed to get a flight out of that airport, and it leaves approximately the same time mine does. We have several hours to kill, so go to the airport "Miller" pub. I don't drink Miller beer, as a rule. Margaret gets a Bloody Mary, and I get a martini. Both were surprisingly cheap, especially for airport food. So that's how the trip ended.
Aside from Margaret's travel difficulties, I would call it a resounding success.

In Chicago, we stayed at:
The James Hotel
55 East Ontario
Chicago, IL 60611
877-James-55
(Photos below from their website)

The speakeasy we frequented was:

The Violet Hour
1520 N. Damen Avenue
Chicago, IL 60622
773-252-1500
(Photo below from MetroMix)

Day 5: Last Full Day in Toronto

We spent the morning shopping around town, and then at the St. Lawrence Market, which was the typical produce/housewares/prepared food/crafts market you would find anywhere, except that it was huge, two stories, and had many Canadian specialties. We wandered around there, looking for souvenirs. Oh yeah, and Joel called the DJ while we were there in hopes of scoring the Drive-By Truckers tickets. The guy's phone was off. Joel left a message. Needless to say, he never called back. None of us were surprised. It would have been cool if it had worked out, though.
But now, the good part: we took a ferry ride to Toronto Island. I don't think that any explanation I write can do it justice. It was a freakin' fairyland. Seriously, that was my first thought. There were lots of little, cute houses close together. No cars, but rather bicycles and little red wagons in peoples' yards to carry their stuff around. Lots of cats and dogs. The cat pictured below was so cute and friendly, but had a big chunk of poop hanging from his butt. It made me laugh and laugh.No commercial buildings to speak of, except for a yacht club (closed for the season), a cafe (closed for the season), and some service buildings. It seemed that lots of eccentric artists must live there, here are some examples:Yes, that was a tree made out of gloves.Also, the first thing that greeted us as we landed on the island was a big tree with upside-down Christmas trees hanging from it. What the hell?But continuing on, we found an explanation for such a weird sight. It was for a bonfire celebrating the first day of spring:Also, there was a little exchange cart for people to leave things they didn't want, and to take things other people didn't want. Interesting.That night, we went to a Vietnamese/Thai restaurant for dinner (no photos), and then to another suggestion of the coffee guy, a super-cool bar with a similar concept to the late, lamented Apotheke: no mixed drinks. They served beer and, I think wine, as well as a very small selection of spirits, neat. It was called Smokeless Joe's, and I loved it. They even featured an Oregon beer from Rogue, but obviously, I'm not going to drink that, because I could have it any day. I wanted to try something different, and, hopefully, local. We all started off with beer. Here are our selections:
I had the Trois Pistoles, from Quebec. It was so good, I looked for it here in Portland after I got back. I found it. Yes!
After that, we tried a flight of Scotch. Here they are:
After the Scotch, Margaret and I followed it with some oysters. I made the executive decision to get the Prince Edward Island oysters because of, well, Anne of Green Gables. Yes, I'm a dork. But the oysters were really good. We had a really great time there, although Joel and Margaret do look rather pensive in this photo.
After Smokeless Joe's, we went back to the hostel. Margaret and I stayed up late to use the computer. In the computer room, I started joking around with a cute Welsh guy. I don't know why, but he gave me a hug. Then he said I smelled good, and gave me another hug. Did I mention he was really cute? I don't know his name. I really enjoyed that though. I was hoping I would see him again the next day, at least to find out his name, but alas, I didn't. We left the next morning. Maybe I should go to Wales.