The Old Man is Snoring

So, I have finally experienced what it's like to have several days of overcast weather and periodic rain. Like I've said many times before, the summer in Portland so far has been GORGEOUS! Totally warm and sunny and beautiful...just what summer should be. And, everyone has been telling me that it's only supposed to get better. Apparently we have an amazing (and totally un-PC) Indian Summer in Portland where it's warm and wonderful through September. If I hadn't been told this fable, I might not have been so upset with the last few days. But, since Saturday it has been nothing but cold and dark and rainy. And I don't like it. I'm ok with cold and dark and rainy in February...because that's sort of the definition of February (hereby pronounced my least favorite month...luckily it's a short one...which on second thought should maybe be my most favorite because it is like me...but I digress). Now that I'm writing this out I realize that it's only been 3 days of cold and dark and rainy...but c'mon!! It's August!!! Is summer over already?? I know all the kiddies are going back to school and that autumn is on it's way...but why so soon? All I have to say is, Summer, I miss you already and I hope you come back and spend a little more time with me before you go away for another 6 months.

Splish Splash

Finally!! Proof of me wakeboarding (not of wakeboaring skills, mind you...but just of me actually being on a wakeboard behind a boat). You may want to wear your sunglasses to protect your eyes from the reflection of my white skin. Apparently the Oregon sun hasn't been as good to me as the California sun (though, let's face it...I'm Irish).



And in other water related news...I never got a chance to blog about my incredibly fun weekend at Detroit Lake a few weekends back (other than the jumping pictures, of course). We went out to the Lake to camp with Korie and her family...and it was a lovely time. I was reminded of how much I love camping and being in the woods. I am a fan of camping of all kinds, be it car camping with a community of fellow campers or backpacking into the lonesome woods. There is something great about sleeping outside and the slow, laid back pace that comes along with sitting by a campfire with little else to do. We took a walk on Friday night and got to know the locals.

Jeni and I played a riveting game of don't touch the ground (and made up rules as we went along like 5 year olds...awesome!).

We also hung out on the dock and watched for shooting stars. I didn't see any this time around, but it reminded me of the trip my family took to the Florida Keys when I was a teenager...among my fondest memories was laying out on the dock with our feet in the warm water, watching the meteor shower. Amazing!

I had a heck of a time trying to wakeboard that day, and never successfully got up. I was ridiculously frustrated since that has never happened to me before and we all know how much I hate failing at something. After the attempted wakeboarding we went to this little cove where a river came off the mountain into the lake. There were a bunch of waterfalls, one of which you could slide down on the tubes! We hiked up the riverbed to another great big waterfall. It was beautiful! Just like the spot on LOST where Kate and Sawyer had their little waterfall moment (sans dead bodies or anyone as beautiful as Sawyer or Kate). And, unlike the island on LOST, the water here was freezing cold as it was mountain snow run-off. Despite the cold, we jumped in and swam across the pool to touch the waterfall and back. I think I've officially qualified for the polar bear club.

Unfortunately, I didn't get any photos of the waterfall because getting there required swimming to the beginning of the hike from the boat (in much warmer water). But Korie took this video of us sliding down the first little waterfall on the tube...if you listen closely you can hear my squeal...I promise it looked much scarier from the top than it does from this angle :)

What a Feast!

So, I'm having a bit of a cash-flow problem since the major car repairs and signing a new lease (yay, I found a place to live! More on that in upcoming posts). So, I haven't been able to go grocery shopping, yet I still need to eat. I started off the week with $8 in my wallet and have managed to make that $8 last me (with $1 and some change left) for lunch all week (dinners have all been made at home with whatever is in the cupboards...shells and white cheddar, tuna fish, the usual college grub...and have not really worked for left-overs, and we all know how I feel about left-overs). This post is by no means meant to inspire pity or sympathy for the lack of cash. It is merely an expression of my amazement that I have been able to feed myself pretty hardy meals for 3 days on less than $8. Today's meal was by far the best. I went to Costco for some pizza and a coke, which came to a whopping $2.54. I think I may have blogged about Costco pizza and the amazing deal that it is in a previous post...but I'm happy to repeat myself here. Costco pizza is not only delicious, but it is also a nice big fatty piece of pizza that is more than filling enough (plus it reminds me of lunches in DC with Jake and Stubbs at the Costco in Crystal City). And again...what a deal!! Refillable drinks at Costco are only 55 cents!! Where else can you find a refillable fountain coke (the best beverage on the planet) for only 55 cents?? I dare you to find a better deal...I triple dog dare you!

BGD's 5 Rules

I went to my very first show in Portland on Saturday night. We went to see The Format at the Hawthorn theater and it was a fantastic way to kick off my concert career in the new city. First off...big hearty thanks to Dan for alerting me to the show (and he said that no good bands would come to Portland...HA!). Although it was terribly difficult for me to go to a show without one of my usual show buddies...I managed and am working through it.

In honor of one of my show buddies, I am going to take you through the evening and discuss the show based on BGD's 5 criteria for a really good show. If you see a band you like, who can actually sing and play their instruments (i.e. isn't a "studio band"), and the show meets these 5 criteria, you are guaranteed a good show. As illustrated below:

1. The opening bands play short sets.

There were 4 opening bands at the show on Saturday night. A little excessive in my mind, but turns out they were good...so it was worth it. We got there in the middle of the Reuben's Accomplice set. They weren't bad...usual opening band stuff, and the set was short. Then came Steel Train who was AMAZING! I really loved their stuff and even bought a t-shirt and their new album...I also stood in line for the bathroom with the bassist Evan Winiker before I knew he was in the band. He was nice and cute with his big curly hair. He even remembered me when I ran into him later. After Steel Train came Limbeck, who were great, as expected. Finally, there was The Honorary Title, the only flaw on an otherwise great night of music. First of all, they took SO long to set up and do their sound check...which was a fine introduction to their sound guy, hereafter referred to as The Prick. Not only did he kick my friend as he tried to hop over the counter into the sound booth (rather than using the more conveniently located door) but he was also a terrible sound guy, I mean The Prick. The vocals were WAY too loud, to the point where they were piercing, which makes listening difficult, let alone liking. Plus, he was mean to the resident sound guy who was nice and cute, we caught him in a lie, and he smoked (which was not allowed at this venue). Toward the end of their set he found the light board and decided to get crazy. He was also terrible at the lights...so bad that he thought I might do a better job. He asked if I would do the lights...but since I thought he was a prick I didn't want to participate in his little game I said I couldn't reach the light board. So, he decided to try to move it toward me, thereby disconnecting the board from the plug and causing a total black-out on the stage. A+. Anyway, other than The Honorary Title and their Honorary Prick, the rest of the bands met the aforementioned criteria, making one step toward being a really good show.

2. There is good music between bands.

The resident sound guy, hereafter referred to as Cutie Pie, did a great job on the in-between set music. 'Nuf said.

3. The headliners have a good light show or something to watch while they are playing.

So, the Hawthorn Theater is relatively ghetto. The stage doesn't really provide for doing a really good light show or having anything crazy going on behind (though it is favored with a great neon green border ala a Tijuana strip joint). We made friends with The Format's sound guy, Muzz, and, though half the light controls didn't even work (perhaps due to The Prick's clumsiness), Muzz did the best he could with what he had. I've never really paid attention to the regular old stage lights in a show, unless it's something special...but since Muzz was my buddy I was much more aware of his craft (sort of like how you pay more attention in church when your friend is speaking).

4. The headliners play songs from their entire catalog, not just their most recent album.

The nice thing about making friends with Muzz, the lights guy, is that he gave me a sneak preview of the set list. He said, "Hey, you want a sneak peak, sister?" And, while I'm not that familiar with the Format's entire catalog (which, from what I can tell, consists of two full-length albums and a couple of EPs and a live album) they did, indeed, play songs from all aforementioned albums. And they rocked 'em hard.



5. The headliners play at least one good cover.

Since I wasn't that familiar with all of the song titles in The Format's catalog, there wasn't really any way that I could tell if a cover was on the list. Toward the end of the show I was thinking that they had missed this criteria, thus not qualifying by BGD's standards. However, I was mistaken and was treated to one of the best covers I've ever seen. They brought out horns and a sax and did one of those everyone-is-on-stage-and-having-a-really-great-time-because-we're-buddies sort of rendition of Van Morrison's Caravan. Complete with the crowd coming in for the laa laa la la, la la laaaa. Fantastic!

Moral of the story (for EvRo): The Format is a great live band who puts on a really good show. BGD's criteria hold steady.

1995

This morning I was running a little late for work, which is not out of the ordinary for me. But, today I happened to catch the 8 at 8 on 94.7 fm. They pick a theme and play 8 songs based on the theme...the usual radio kitch. This morning, the theme was 1995 and as I was listening to the first three songs I came to the realization that I LOVE 1995. In that year I was a Junior & Senior in High School. I was cruisin' around in my yellow 1974 VW Bug named Sunny, relishing my independence, making life long friends, and I didn't think life could ever get any better. As I rocked out to the first three songs of the set (Oasis - Live Forever, Better than Ezra - Good, and The Presidents of the United States of America - Lump) I started to feel those happy feelings well up in side that make you feel like you might explode. I was flooded with memories from back in the day and I somehow felt the vibe of that year and some serious nostalgia for that time in my life. For me, music is a lot like smell, the sense that is supposed to be the most connected to memory. When I hear particular songs I can be instantly transported, just like when I get a whiff of the sweet smell of carbon paper and it takes me back to the summer of 1997, but I digress.

I think the music of that era is still among my favorite. Is that the case for everyone? Does everyone just LOVE the music from their high school years? Is it so great because it's associated with such fun memories (for those who actually enjoyed their high school years)? Or is it great because that's usually the age where you are discovering music and figuring out what you like (a la Emily)? Or was the music of 1995 particularly good? I don't know the answer to these questions. But, I do know that I'm grateful for 94.7 taking me back today. I'm grateful for 1995 and all of the people that made that year so great. I'm grateful for the music and the happy times it brings to mind. In the famous words of Bob Hope...Thanks for the memories!

Jump Around

I'm a lurker on a blog of a friend of a friend. I've never met this kid and he's only posted three times. But, I have been inspired. See, he's a big fan of jumping pictures. And, he likes them so much, it's consumed him and it's all he blogs about. Through him and his blog, I have discovered my own love of jumping pictures. Not only are they fun to look at, but they are ridiculously fun to take. I'm still an amature, not nearly as good as the pro who can create shapes and other themed jumps. But here are a few of my best shots:

I'm sure that many more jumping pictures are soon to come. I've discovered that it's a great way to add spice to an otherwise beautiful, but sort of boring, landscape shot (such as the latter two at Detroit Lake). As the friend of the friend put it best, "The jumping picture plants either an awe, a smile, or a perplexity that diverts the viewer's attention from the ability to be photogenic of the subject, to the wonderment of the photograph." Amen brother.

All I Want To Do Is Dance

Periodically, I make a vow to myself never to go to another church dance. This usually occurs immediately after walking into a church dance and thinking, "what the hell am I doing here?" For several years I was doing pretty good at abstaining, but every once in a while I'll succumb to the peer pressure, "c'mon, it'll be fun!" "Everyone is going." "Just this once." "If it's lame we'll leave." And you know what? It's never a good idea.

Tonight, I went to another church dance. And tonight, I reaffirm my vow to never go to another church dance again. Tonight was actually better than most church dances. Mostly because I have some girlfriends who really love to dance...and boy can they dance. See, it's not the dancing that I don't like. I LOVE to go dancing. It's one of my favorite things to do (which most of my friends can affirm). But, there is something about walking into a gigantic cultural hall (gym in norman talk) which is moderately lit with bad music and a few people swing dancing to some techno song and the rest standing idly by in the corner judging everyone. It makes me throw up in my mouth a little. The thing is, such things were really fun, once upon a time...a time when I was 15. Now I'm 29 and I feel way too old to be going to dances. I'm a grandma for heaven's sake...I might throw out a hip. Mostly they just make me realize the comically hopeless situation of being an older single LDS woman. I mean, seriously, am I expected to meet someone who I will love and marry at one of these things? Which one of the 12 year olds mac-ing on the other 12 year olds should I approach and engage in meaningful conversation? Which one of the guys trying to break dance in a big circle of white folk should I invite over for dinner? If I try this dance move will it entice the hot guy that every girl is after to come over and ask me to dance?

One of the reasons that I sometimes fold to the peer pressure requires a bit of family history. One day circa 1968 Mary Lou Donahue was content to spend a Friday night at home doing...oh, I don't know, whatever Mary Lou was into at the time...maybe typing? Her girlfriends were planning to go to a dance (not a church dance, this one happens to take place in a bar). She really wasn't in the mood to go, and tried her darndest to stay home, but her friends won out and she reluctantly went to the dance. During the course of the night, she's asked to dance by a quirky little guy named Frank. They dance a few dances, she tries to ditch him by going to the bathroom, but he finds her later on and somehow finagles his way into getting a ride home from Mary Lou's friends. Long story short, they get married. Longer story shorter, I am born. Moral of the story: if you go to a dance that you don't want to go to, you just might meet your husband, have a lovely family, and live happily ever after. I know it's a ridiculous thought, but family lore has a way of sticking in your brain and making you do all kinds of ridiculous things against better judgment. So, sometimes when I really really don't want to go to a church dance, somewhere in the back of my head I think, the more I don't want to go, the more likely it is that my husband will be there and if I don't go I'll miss him. This is made more ridiculous by the fact that I don't believe in "soul mates" or the idea that "my hubby" is out there somewhere waiting or searching for me and it's just a matter of finding him. However, the old mantra, "it'll happen when you least expect it" sort of applies here. I mean, where would I be less likely to meet someone than at a church dance???

Now, there are certainly exceptions to the horrific nature of church dances (i.e. LA1st/SM3rd combined Christmas Party of 2006 - a delightfully lovely evening of dinner and dancing or any kind of dance that takes place on a boat). As I've typed them out I've realized they are exceptions because they are not actually church dances. So, it's not the Mormons who make church dances horrible. Is it the cultural hall? Is it the bad DJs? Is it the fact that it reminds me of being an awkward 15 year old?

Tonight I learned a lesson from my friend Jeni: dances are much more fun if there is no expectation. They are fun when you go with the sole purpose of gettin' your grove on and cuttin' a rug on the dance floor. You do not intend to meet a single person (male or female), you do not expect good conversation, you do not expect to catch the eye of your latest crush, you do not expect to be asked to dance to a slow song. You simply expect to dance your heart out and not give a damn about the rest of the world. And you do it with people you enjoy being around. This is exactly why it's fun to go out dancing with your friends (whether it's at a club, or a bar, or a wedding, or in your living room). Dancing is fun and it's good for my soul. And when I go dancing in all of these other places that's all I'm doing is dancing. I'm not trying to attract a potential spouse and see how that night fits into my eternal scheme - reminding me that I'm a 29 year old single LDS woman. What dancing really does is remind me that I'm alive and I'm fun and I'm sexy, even if no one is looking.

So, instead of vowing to never go to another church dance again, I'm going to start treating all dances, including those in a moderately lit and mostly empty cultural hall, as a chance to feed my soul and rock it on the dance floor. No bad attitudes, no expectations, no miss poopy pants. Because really, all I want to do is dance!