Polit[ick!]s

Perhaps it is a bit overly dramatic of me to say, but let me just state, for the record:

If McCain/Palin win the election come November, I will be moving to Canada.  Seriously.  

I hear Vancouver is beautiful, quite progressive actually.  And let's not forget the federal health care (yes please!).  Yes, it's official.  If this country is swept away by an aging, obviously incompetent Republican and his busty no-brain side-kick, I will a) throw a conniption fit b) cry c)begin packing d)cry some more.  

Having come to this conclusion some time ago, I was shocked to discover that (gasp!) I was not the only one!!!  There are others who foresee a life in that great northern frontier!  Only, whereas I simply talk about the prospect to friends and write about it on here, my blog, they lift their voices to the heavens and SING, baby!  And oh, it is beautiful. 

The fact that this dire predicament is a rather substantial possibility is all the more worrisome.  Perhaps this explains why I felt so depressed after the VP debate this past week.  Like millions of Americans around the country, I so desperately wanted Palin to fall on her condescending little face and prove to the world what a fake she really is.  Unfortunately, that didn't happen.  She was well put together, gave a strong delivery, and somehow managed to formulate semi-complete sentences.  This in and of itself was an immense accomplishment.  Granted, if I heard the words "Maverick" or "Energy Policy" one more time I thought my head was going to explode.  Question dodging aside, as a debater, she scored top marks.  

Palin-bashing aside, my general disgust for politics was revived this past week, what with the "bipartisan" bail-out, McCain's grandiose decision to put his campaign on hold (talk about "gotcha" journalism-- how about "gotcha" politics, Johnny?), and the countless mis-statements from BOTH parties during the debates.  A couple of things that I wish they would get straight, once and for all:

1.  Obama/Biden:  the Iraqis do not have a $79 Billion surplus so STOP throwing that figure around like it's your last lifeline to the candidacy!  Just get it straight:  by now, it's probably closer to $60 Billion.  Doesn't quite have the same dramatic effect as the former, but still gets the point across, I think.  (not to mention it's TRUE!)

2.  McCain/Palin:  Obama did NOT vote againt spending for the troops!!  He voted no because of the TIMELINE, damnit!  How many times do we have to explain this one to you?  McCain did the EXACT SAME THING!  He chose not to vote for a spending bill for the troops because it contained a timeline, just as Obama chose not to vote for a spending bill for the troops because it did not contain a timeline.  Get it?  Good.   

3.  McCain:  There's no point trying to deny your closeness to George W.  (both in your personal life and in voting record).  Hell, when Bush heard the news about the devastation of  Hurricane Katrina, he immediately jetted off, not to New Orleans, but to YOUR Birthday Party, for God's sake!  Now that's commitment, my friend.  Besides, there's no covering up your average of voting with Bushy 90% of the time over the course of the past 8 years.  

4.  This last one is for all of ya:  please, please!  Stop quoting the other out of context, spinning whatever they say in a way that supports whatever point you are making, whether it is accurate or not.  I mean come on, Obama!  I thought you were supposed to be all about a "new" type of politics.  For the most part, I say you've done a fine job breaking out of the mold.  Unfortunately, the closer we come to Nov. 4th, the sloppier you're getting at holding true to your word.  

True to my word, I return with a real, honest-to-God, post!  Still, I find myself in a bit of a precarious situation.  I suppose such is the way of time and forward progression.  You see, I feel as though I simply have too much to say!  I would love to be able to sit down and wax poetically about the people I see and the places my feet have taken me over the past months, but I can't seem to pin myself down to describing simply one, two, or even three such observations.  Life is moving ahead and warp speed out here on the West coast and I am simply floundering along trying to keep up. Sigh...

Which brings me to the ever-dependable, yet perhaps over-utilized staple of the blog world:

The bullet by bullet update, a medium which magically allows the writer to catch up said reader in record time, with an efficiency that is quite mind-boggling.  So, enough preface.  Let's get to it, shall we?

• I have a home!!! For real!  And it is AWESOME!  1 br 1 ba, close to downtown and in between the Hawthorne and Belmont districts.  Basically, we are in the heart Portland, in a neighborhood bursting with life, youth, and creativity.  Our little house is actually part of a quad that is occupied by three other young couples.  I am so excited about our new neighbors!  Already we have shared dinners, game nights, good conversation, homemade milkshakes, and even some quality "Office" time!  I left the house this morning and have been wandering around all day, walking to a bakery this morning for breakfast and tea, then to starbucks to try and find internet, and finally to Hotlips pizza for lunch, where I am currently camped out.  There is a fresh produce market a block from the house and a grocery store four blocks east.  Movie theaters, coffee shops, book stores, music venues: all within a ten minute walk.  Like I said, it's freakin' amazing.
• Doug is loving his job, working as a Case Manager in Clackamas County.  He carpools there and back every day for roughly $10 a week and, starting this week, will begin a 4-day work week.  As in, he will be working 37 1/2 hours a week, with every Friday off.  What a punk.
• As for me, things are finally starting to come together.  I have registered as a substitute teacher with two districts already, and have an interview with Beaverton school district, a highly-sought after position, on Tuesday.  Meanwhile, on Monday I start shadowing for Huntington Learning Center as a test prep tutor.  
• My dear friend Liz will be joining me here in Portland in a couple of weeks, something I am absolutely ecstatic about!  As lovely as Oregon is, I have been seriously lacking some female camaraderie, something that is of upmost important to me.  Which is why I nearly peed my pants when, a couple of days ago, I found out that Ms. Wendy Higgins, another of my favorite people on this planet, will also be following me out West!!!  I feel as though the addition of these two beautiful ladies into my life is a blessing beyond words.  With them they bring a sense of peace and fulfillment that only girlfriends can offer.  So get on out here, girls!!!  pretty please?  :)

Well I think that is enough of an update for now.  I am quite confident that my next visit will be a little less structured, and perhaps slightly more specific.  Then again, who am I kidding?  The possibilities are endless, my friend.  And isn't that absolutely the way it should be?  

:)

Public Notice:

This actually isn't a real post.  Not really.  I suppose it's more of a "keep you posted" post.  As in: now that things are finally starting to settle down here in the beautiful Land of Ports, new, updated, and ever-fascinating posts are on the way.  So fear not, my loyal follower(s)!  I have not abandoned you for greener blog formats!  

More to come....soon...

1,2, and 3

Three interesting things have happened today:

1.  I got a call this morning requesting that I come in for an interview!  I am scheduled to be at Gresham High School at 10:00am on Monday, July 28th to interview for a full time teaching position!  GREAT news.  

2.  On our way out the door this morning, we ran into a mini-van.  Wait, let me clarify:  we did not walk out the door and ram our faces into the side of a car.  Doug was driving, and as he made a left turn off of our street, a mini-van came zipping around the corner out of NOWHERE and BAMB!  We creamed her driver side door, leaving a rather heavy mark to prove it.

Ok, so I may be dramatizing the incident slightly.  Either way, we immediately pulled over and gave our information to Mrs. Suburban Mom All-Star Hell-of-a-gal (S.M.A.S.H. for short).  She called us back a couple of hours later with an estimate: $3,700!!!!!   At which point Doug and my mouth dropped simultaneously.  I mean, granted this was a mini-van and we happened to hit the spiffy [and expensive] electric sliding door that is a mini-van staple, but still!  $3,700???  Seriously??

3.  Post traumatic incident with S.M.A.S.H., we mustered up the strength to carry on with our day, gravitating to the one place in Portland where all meandering souls go to heal their wounds and clear their mind:  The Portland International Rose Test Garden.  The garden was beautiful, as I expected.  It is a rose garden, after all.  

A wise man once wrote, "A rose by any other name would smell as sweet."  Doug and I officially confirmed this statement.  I think we smelled two dozen different varieties of rose, each creatively named for it's peculiar size, color, and fragrance. "In the Mood" and "Tahitian Sunset" are two particular varieties that come to mind.  

Now is when I sincerely wish there were such a thing as scratch-n-sniff digital pictures because honestly, the airs emanating off of these flowers were far more brilliant and captivating than their physical beauty.  Perhaps this is why Shakespeare, like most poets, was so fixated by them.  

"Of all flowers

  Methinks a rose is best."

--straight from the horse's mouth.

I have read over my most recent blogs and realize that I seem to have unintentionally given the impression that I am unsatisfied with how things have been going in Portland.  This is absolutely not the case.  Granted, there were a couple of days at the beginning where I feared the worst.  After all, traveling 3,000 miles across the country, far far away from everyone and everything you love and hold dear...well, that's kind of a big deal.  So of course there are fears.  Of course there are trembles and heart-clenching moments of doubt.  This is to be expected.  

I think it was day three (or was it two?) in Portland that I had a minor little breakdown.  It was time to get serious and find a job and for some reason, I was making this process incredibly difficult.  Documents that I desperately needed began disappearing (i.e. I kept losing them), and I found myself lost in a dizzying haze of uncertainty and worthlessness.  I did not feel like the strong, independent woman that I so desperately envisioned of myself.  Instead, I looked down at the red sandals on my feet and saw a child, a helpless little girl who suddenly realizes she's not in Kansas anymore.  

So I cried.  I wailed; snot erupted from my orifices like Old Faithful herself.  The more I cried, the heavier the flow;  the heavier the flow, the more I felt like crying.  Stuffing my nose with the cottony comfort of Kleenex tissue, I told Doug I was done crying.  It was time to go.  

"But you still have sad eyes,"  he replied, so earnestly wanting to melt away all of my fears and frustrations.  

"Yes, I know," I shrugged.  "That's ok."

And the truth is, it was ok.  The next morning I completed my first application and suddenly, things didn't seem so murky and uncertain.  I had a plan, a goal, and the empowerment that I needed to follow through.  What else could a girl--sorry, woman--ask for?

Doug and I have been in Portland for over a week now, and each day I feel a piece of this place penetrate my heart and leave a small, magical droplet of what feels like home.  It may take some time, but those droplets are the foundation of a great river of strength, beauty, and sweet sweet clarity, a river that is teeming, ready to burst through me and in me and all around me.  I can feel it building, waiting for the time to come when it's crystal clear water can wash clean the stagnant pools of my past and fill me up to the brim with courage and life and supreme love!  

  Portland may be big and new and more than a little bit scary, but it is also the beginning of something strong and powerful building within me.  Time and time again I have heard people caution me about the weather here in the Pacific Northwest.  They tell me I will love it now when it is sunny and warm, but once the rain comes, I will think differently.  The rains of Portland will wash away such a sunny disposition, they say with disdain.  Well let the rain come!  Bring on the clouds and the mist and the clammy gray skies.  I embrace their water vapors because they will simply build up that mighty river that is on its way; and oh, it is coming!  And it will be glorious!  It is glorious now.

For now, I am content with the soft dew of Portland's potential.  It calms me and it brings me peace.  Doug and I have both noted how relaxed we have felt these past few weeks, as if the world and all of its protective energy is holding us, giving us the precious softness we so need in a time of such harsh reality.  I thank it's comfort and support but I also know that it will not always be necessary.  There will come a time in the not so distant future when we will not need such vigilant protection.  But until then, I am thankful for the angels watching over us and furtively looking to the skies for the magical rains of tomorrow.

Stay away from Buster's.

Good news! We found a place to live! It's an extremely cute house in the NE side of town, right by the MAX line. We will be temporarily renting a room there starting next friday through the end of August. AND, there is a possibility we will be able to take over rent for the whole house starting in September. Hopefully we will have jobs by then and will have a better idea about where we need to be. The two girls who live there seem super cool and I am excited to get to know them better. Like Doug says, the house and it's inhabitants have "lots of potential"--potential for new friends, great living space, and possibly even a long-term rental. Very exciting! Also, the woman who owns the house we are staying in right now has agreed to allow us to stay an extra week, so we should be covered! No camping/hostels/knocking door to door looking for shelter. It is settled.

On a slightly unsettling note, Doug and I went out to eat last night, our first "night on the town," and where do you think we ended up? Yes, a BBQ place recommended by the local auto mechanic. Here we are, 3,000 miles away from home, and we continue to fixate upon the lip-lickin' splendor of some goooood Q. Call it an obsession if you will, I call it having good taste. So here we are, attempting our first gander at Northwestern BBQ and, to no one's surprise, it was AWEFUL. Terrible. I hated it. In fact, I hated everything about the place, from the country-western music playing in the background to the cowboy hats and longhorns plastered against the wall. As I forced down the dry, overly-seasoned bites of "pulled pork," I felt the all-empowering, all-encompassing emotion common to southerners everywhere: guilt. I felt like I was betraying my roots, my country, my GOD, by simply being there. The place was a mockery; it single-handedly managed to suck the soul out of the most soulful food there is: fire-roasted pig accompanied by some mighty-fine sauces. It's as simple as that.

Doug assures me that there is still hope for Oregonian BBQ; "don't give up hope now, not yet," he says with a penetrating stare.
I take a deep breath. I know, honey. I know. It's just so damn hard when you've left behind something so damn good.

from Portland!

And so, after eleven days of sweat and dirt and luminous exploration, Doug and I finally reached Portland, OR, our home in the making! Little Sioux (that's what I have officially Christened my mazda) took a deep sigh of relief: we had made it.

Now, here we are, four days later, and the reality of our situation is finally starting to sink in. We have been lucky enough to have a beautiful house to stay in until this friday, at which point we are on our own. Unfortunately, the plans we had made for the end of July have fallen through, which leaves Doug and I in quite the precarious situation. Up to the challenge, we have both put on our "serious" faces (and Doug his "responsible" voice) to step up to the plate and figure out a solution. Surprisingly enough, there are quite a number of temporary sublets out there, so we are hoping to find a furnished place to live in for a month or so until we have jobs and are ready for something more permanent. At least that's how the plan goes.

Big Sigh....

I woke up yesterday morning with an ache down in belly. The ache moaned and I knew that I was finally missing Asheville, my little home tucked away in the Appalachian Mountains, so far far away. Portland is big and...city-like. The people are different. The landscape is different. Where are all the trees? Instead of foilage and creek-beds I smell exhaust; rather than hear birds and crickets, my ears are filled with the sound of busses and an eerie silence. Where has my home gone? Is this the replacement? Has it all come to this?

Reminder to self: we have only been here FOUR days. Hardly time enough to be able to inhale the fullness of such a big, new place. And so I am trying to be patient. Doug and I are about to head off to the coast for the day. I think a little time away from the city and under the wide branches of nature will do us both some good. My heart calls out for the salty sweetness of the sea.