oh sweet baby jesus.

triple obsessiongasm.

feathergasm

Jess and I just got back from the Imagine Salon in Eugene, where we got feathered. A wonderful man named Jesse did it. If you would like to try such things, I highly recommend him. We both just let him have his way with us and it turned out incredible! The pictures don't do it justice.

Joie de Vivre

Ali at a pair of aviators has a running series of 'joi de vivre' lists and she featured mine this week. You can take a look here. In other news, really really lovely last two weeks of my life. Will post about that when I get back to my home (right now I'm in the Eug/on Jess's futon for Eugene Celebration/FEATHER EXTENSIONS) but in the mean time, here's Joseph enjoying our vacation. He's at his grandparents house for the weekend and I kinda miss having someone to yell at constantly.

You sure got a pretty mouth

I work in the White Stag building, ie the Skidmore block, ie the “Made In Oregon” building. The door to my office is under the Burnside Bridge. Each morning I get off the bus to the sweet smell of urine and each afternoon I step over the folks camped out on the bridge so that I can get to my bus stop. My encounters with the people who call the Burnside Bridge home have been varied but not scary or particularly unpleasant. We get to watch fights from our windows in the office and a couple times the police have even used our lovely view to catch shady characters. Also, I’m complimented constantly. Some compliments are… colorful : ‘girl you sure got a pretty mouth’, ‘look at the way them boobies shake up the stairs’, ‘Hey! Hey you! Girl! Blondie! Pretty girl! Get your fine ass over here!” But, some are lovely: “you look very nice today”, “look at that smile! You have a great day”. The lovely ones come from the gentlemen outside the rescue mission. There are about 5 guys (the number keeps growing. It started with one guy-my bodyguard) that wish me a good morning every day. I smile at them and wish them a good morning and generally they tell me to have a great day or not to work too hard. When I first started my job about 9 months ago, I got off the bus and there was a fight about a foot away from the bus door. One of these wonderful gentlemen stepped in front of the fight and basically guarded me through to the stairs. “Don’t you worry sweetheart, they’re just being idiots” he told me. These guys have by back. And today, I get off the bus and everyone tells me good morning and then 5 or 6 different people warn me to be careful on the stairs. I get this confused look and my bodyguard tells me “I’m real sorry darling but someone uh, well uh, just be careful.” Someone shit on the stairs, is what he was trying to tell me. Shit. On. The. Stairs. And it was right in my walking path. If my friends hadn’t been so kind as to warn me, I would have been texting away and probably slipped and fallen in stair shit. I love these guys. I keep forgetting to ask their names but I will remember one of these mornings. Moral of the story is to make friends with the local homeless because they will warn you if there is shit on the stairs.

can't get over it

New Obsession/Need: Feather Extensions

uh, what's up August? (and also, a bit of a rant)

Working Monday through Friday has the bizarre side effect of making time fly so fast that you're not even really sure what year it is, let alone what month. My days feel about 30 years long but my weeks and months are blinks.

I think it’s because I'm always just trying to get through five days, 4 days, three days, holy shit it’s Thursday, oh Christ only 8 more hours…until the weekend. And then it’s Monday and I need facebook photos to even prove to myself that I did indeed have a weekend.

Which brings me to…how the FUCK is it August? Seriously. My mind is blown by this. Not only is it August but the month is almost half over. It makes me afraid that I’m going to wake up tomorrow and be thirty and not know how it happened.

Most of me wants to run away to a country where they won’t turn me over for defaulting on all of my debt and just wait tables and live in shitty little apartments and have adventures and be stinking poor. The other part of me says knock it off crazy face. That part is winning. What I really need is to win the lottery and pay off all of my debt so that if I want to be a crazy face I can (first I'd have to buy a lottery ticket). There are just way too many strings attached to me right now and it sucks. I can’t even join the Peace Corps/WOOF/other-awesome-opportunity-abroad because I’d have no way of paying on my credit cards/private student loans/ car while I was gone.

As terrible as I am at being an adult, in other ways I’m also way too good at it. Too settled, too responsible. In a few weeks I’ll start my internship which will take up my weekends. Super excited to be working towards a career that I actually want but also hating that my limited adventure time is going to be eaten up by more responsible adult activity (and unpaid at that).

So basically, this is me complaining about things I can't change (existing debt) and things I could change but won't (being a big fat chicken/taking on an internship). Just complaining. Sometimes you have to, you know?

I googled 'stock photo office worker'

NO. Absolutely not. Nobody working in an office looks like that unless they all stopped working to talk about the tiger tattoo their boss has on his hip or perhaps the 90's dance music video that their other boss appeared in briefly.

Now, that's more like it. I feel you, Danica (totally could be her name right?). I feel you.

Bologna Sandwich

I want one. And I want it bad. I want it on cheap white bread with american cheese, mayo and mustard. I want it with crunchy cheetos on the sandwich and on the side. And I want it now. (by the way, I didn't take this picture. Whomever did just happens to have the same distinguished tastes that I do. Poor pickle choice though. Those most definitely are NOT Vlasic Zesty Dills or Rick's Famous Hot Pickles)

It seems to me that they should be able to make meatless bologna that tastes like regular bologna. I mean, most of the flavor doesn’t come from the meat anyway. It comes from the wonderful salt and chemicals that they put in all of those mystery meat parts to make them palatable. Palatable-hell, delicious. This is what actually blows my mind about the poor taste profiles (in my opinion) of fake lunch meat/processed meat. They almost have hot dogs down- almost. But come on food engineers of the world, get your shit together. If you can make pureed hooves, ears, and rat bits taste that good, I feel like you should be able to do the same for my soy-based treat.

There should also be an identical dairy free version of American cheese because although it’s full of casein and whey, it sure as shit isn’t actually cheese. There must be a way to accomplish the same product without dairy.

You're Welcome

http://1000awesomethings.com/2009/05/01/775-when-someone-holds-your-keys-and-wallet-in-their-purse/