spice heaven

I had a bit of a hay-day Sunday afternoon after going to a church. I had spent the morning trying to figure out a church that was a reasonable distance away, (which it ends up is an hour) and headed over for Sunday service. It was an old church, very beautiful inside and out. Stain-glass windows, arched ceilings, black-iron chandeliers, and a full organ with burgundy and teal pipes with gold accents. The sermon was good, as was the service. One lady came up to me and introduced herself, which was nice, and gave me a website for a job-lead, woot. But I couldn’t help but notice there was not a single human being over the age of 7. And beside that brief conversation with that woman I could not find anyone who was not engaged in a revetting conversation which would have been rude to interrupt. So, I left.  

 I had bought a day ticket and figured I should make the most of it, so went to better explore downtown. I decided to take it until I saw something interesting, and  the “library” stop caught my attention. It was a three-story brick building and I decided to look for a book that I could not directly access at a library or bookstore in CA. “Are Women Human?” by Dorothy L. Sayers. Would it be here? I sat down at the computer log, typed in the title. Be still my beating heart! There was not one, but TWO copies of the book, and one of them was waiting for me on the second story. I went to the check-out to get a library card. Apparently those are not given out if you don’t have an address.Tricky. So I went back upstairs and read.

I wondered around a little and found some cool shops. I found a Finnegan’s, a fantastic art-supply store stocked with all my Calligraphy needs, and a fancy-pants goodwill. There was a store totally dedicated to spices. salt. dehydrated cheeses. And no preservatives. There was another place that allows you to taste their different olive oils and vinaigrettes. My personal favorite was the black cherry vinaigrette, delicious. I didn’t buy anything as I haven’t secured a job yet, but when I do, oooh-boy!

I walked past Director Park and saw a bunch of people claiming seats and it seemed they were waiting for something. The only thing I had to wait for was the Max, so I found a bench.  This sweet couple sat next to me and we got to chatting. They informed me that Portland Opera was having a free open chorus rehearsal. It was beautiful. They were practicing for Pagliacci and Carmina Burana. I didn’t actually remember the name of it ( thanks google!), but I found it completely delightful. Good news, the tickets are only about $150 a pop, so if you’re free, let me know!

In a nut-shell, Portland itself reminds me a bit of a small chicago with more shade. I am really enjoying it, even if this is just an endorphin-explosion in my brian trying to take in all these new and shiny things.

As for that bottle of wine, the screw/hammer trick doesn’t work when the cork is made out of synthetic materials. And, for that matter, neither does multiple toothpicks, knife-wedging, and hitting the bottom of the towel-wrapped bottle on a tree. On the other hand, a stranger down the hall with a wine-bottle opener seems to do the trick. who knew?

of the days

So here it is Friday evening and I am sitting in Grace’s apartment looking at an unopened bottle of wine. Would I like for that bottle to be opened? yes. Would I like to be having a glass right about now, let alone 2 hours ago? Again, yes. I realize that this present predicament is really not what you are wondering about, but let me tell you, I will be getting this off my chest before I am done typing. Let me start with Monday.

Monday: Packing. Go watch Inception with my Dad. good call. continue packing. Get tired of packing so sleep in guest room since there is a big-red suitcase hording my usual haven of slumber.

Tuesday: Packing. aka rolling clothing up to fit into one suitcase and a duffel bag. bag’s are full. All things are not packed. Mom offers to pay for second bag. thinking. pack third bag. weigh bags. re-pack bags. weigh bags again. dust and vacuum room. get in the car. eat lunch with the units. get on a plane. meet Mary at the airport. Mary gives invite to spend Wednesday at the lake and evening hanging out with friends. offer excepted. Dinner. yum. Go to Grace’s apartment to sleep on a futon until…there becomes a more reasonable option. I’m here.

Wednesday: I went to a semi-local lake and hung out with 3 pregnant women and their kids. It was really nice outside and the water was delightful! That evening Mary and Kyle picked my up to meet and hang out with some of their friends from church. It seems harmless enough. What could possibly go wrong? I’ll tell you. My vocabulary.

There are 6 people sitting at the table. Myself, Kyle, and 4 conservative and nice people I have known for less than an hour. We get on the subject of odd customers and I relay on my coffee experience and the odd things people would order. Now, when I miss-spoke, I realized instantly that I had not used all of the consonants needed to accurately communicate the phrase. What took a couple of seconds to sink-in, however, was what I HAD said in deleting those precious letters from that specific word. Mortified and totally embarrassed,  I began to laugh so hard I started to cry; as did Kyle. But the 4 other strangers? They offered their dazed stairs to communicate their disapproval of  my apparent sense of humor and the situation in general.   I did later clear-up what I was actually referring to.

Thursday and Friday: I had a job interview both days with, the same day-care and I think they went well, the second not great but not terrible. I should be finding out sometime next week if I do or do not have the job.

I took a walk to the outdoor shopping center in hopes of going to Trader Joe’s. After walking through three different conglomeration of stores, I could not find my beloved TJ. I gave up and walked in to Whole-Foods. As I was walking through the dairy isle, picking up my yogurt and soymilk, I realized everything on my list was perishable and that I had at least 30 minutes of walking time to get back to the apartment . So I put down what I had, picked up a bottle of wine, bread and cheese and went to the register.

There is no wine opener in this apartment, however. So I am currently looking for a screw to drive into the cork. I’ll let you know if it works.