85 cents does not a "sweet deal" make

If this is all there is to being a monk, count me in:

Kitties! Hoops! More can be found here.

In other news, fall has officially hit Portland. It's been getting progressively chillier, until today when it rained sideways all day and only hit 50. Hooray, we won't see the sun for months! I hear that Portland winters are "unpleasant," but whether they're worse than Urbana's (in an entirely different way) remains to be seen. Meanwhile, Ben's in L.A. interviewing for some hotshot job, and called to tell me that he was sitting by the ocean in the sunshine.

Apparently, this movie was filmed in Portland, in one of my favorite cafes (Fresh Pot, only a few blocks from where I live). Here is a still:


Unfortunately, Greg Kinnear does not work here in real life. I actually have no idea what this movie is about, though it looks like Morgan Freeman is, as usual, dispensing wise advice.

I guess the biggest news I have is that Ben bought a mustache trimmer yesterday! Ben does not have a mustache. Unfortunately, he bought it from a one-legged woman in a wheelchair on the street for 85 cents, so it doesn't exactly... work. At all. The charming part, though, was that the woman put it in a plastic bag for him so that he could easily carry his new purchase with him. A real professional! I told him that he should have asked her to write out a receipt for tax purposes, so maybe he'll remember to do that they next time he buys personal hygiene items on a street corner.

A Day for the History Books

WHOA WHOA WHOA WHOA, we had an earthquake last night! It went sort of like this:

(tiny rumble)
Amanda: "Hey, did you hear that??"
Ben: "Huh?"

Baby's first earthquake!

At Age 26: Amanda watched her roommate play video games.

The other day I found this website where you can see what other people accomplished when they were your age. I can't decide if it's inspirational or depressing. For example:

At age 26:

Albert Einstein published five major research papers in a German physics journal, fundamentally changing man's view of the universe and leading to such inventions as television and the atomic bomb.

Soviet cosmonaut Valentina Chereshkova became the first woman to travel in space.

College dropout Steve Wozniak co-founded Apple Computer.

Eli Whitney invented the cotton gin, revolutionizing the economies of the United States and Britain.

Napoleon Bonaparte conquered Italy.

British ethologist Jane Goodall set up camp in the Gombe Stream Chimpanzee Reserve on Lake Tanganyika and began studying the lives of chimpanzees.

Ken Kesey published his first novel, One Flew over the Cuckoo's Nest.

Thomas Pynchon published V., for which he won the William Faulkner First Novel Award.

Luckily, I'm only a month into age 26, so I have 11 months to pull an Einstein and fundamentally change man's view of the universe, or perhaps conquer 2 countries instead of Napoleon's paltry UNO (N. Bonaparte and I have the same birthday, by the way. I also used to have a stuffed penguin called Napoleon.) Serendipitously, I bought a copy of "V" last year at a used book sale, and was just thinking the other day that I'd like to read it in the next few months... I'll start it next, I think. A fellow 26-ie!

For the past few weeks, I've been reading "The Stories of Vladimir Nabokov," which contains all (?) of the short stories he wrote, in chronological order. It sort of brings a whole new angle to my amateur Nabokov studies, since it allows one to see just how old boy's style develops and comes to be (600+ pages of stories, so you can get a pretty good handle on it). The early stories are shockingly... not bad, but... not quite there, either. At first I was disappointed with how little they engaged me; at times it's even frustrating, because you can see what he's trying for, and it never quite succeeds. (I think he was maybe writing a lot of poetry at the time, so some of the stories are kind of like extended prose-poems where there is no real plot.) The further I read, though, the more fun I have following his development. It's kind of a blast! I'm about halfway through the whole thing, which puts me up to the early 30's (1930's and his 30's); the ones I'm reading now are awesome. Something happens around... eh, 1927-ish where everything seems to click and come together, and the stories get better and better and better. It's been pretty inspirational to me, since most of the poorer stories were written when V.N. was around my age. Even the best writer ever had to churn out some clunkers. There may still be hope for us all!

I almost forgot that I had some actual real news to report: I HAVE A JOB INTERVIEW. (!!) It's for a job I actually want, too! The interview is on Tuesday, so please hold your breath all day for me.

Couture, big skulls, ribs.

Ben and I were talking about his accidental modeling career the other day, so I dug this out -- I don't think many people have seen it:

(Louis Vuitton runway show, Paris, France, 2006) (Hahahahaha) (Hahahahahaha)

Over a year later, I am still unable to get over the hilarity of this situation, because:

a) Have you ever met Ben?

and

b) Have you ever met me?

For example, today Ben was wearing jeans with a giant hole in the crotch, paired with a shirt that Fred found in a dumpster. I was wearing the same hoodie that I've been wearing and sleeping in for the past four days. Yesterday we had an extended argument about the physics of a bicycle wheel, and today we debated over whether Star Trek:Voyager or the first part of a 20-hour WWII documentary should go first in the Netflix queue. The fact that we are also "couture model" and "couture model's girlfriend" once again proves that truth is stranger than fiction.

Forgetting for a moment the constant sound of money withdrawing itself from my account, I'm having a pretty good week. On Saturday I went to a BBQ at the house where Paul was staying before we got our place. Oh my god, it was fantastic! At one point, I was so happy that I thought I was going to start crying. Having a good time and meeting new people took a giant load off my back. Not only was I greeted at the door with a hug, they also had a badminton net set up! I also met some guy that turned out to be someone I vaguely knew from college. Obviously, it was an awesome party. Or, to put it even more profoundly: nice people are nice!

I was also finally able to see "Paris, Je t'aime," after, oh, almost 2 years of waiting. Even better, it was playing at the Laurelhurst, which serves beer and only charges $3 for a movie. The setup is sort of less than ideal in there, but I chose the seat that seemed least likely to have an obstructed view; the seat in front of me was empty and in the middle of an otherwise-filled row... who would sit there? ANSWER: a man with a head so large that it changed the gravitational force in the theater. He came in about 20 seconds after the lights went down, bringing with him the entire solar system that was orbiting around his skull. Unfortunately, Super Dome blocked out about 60% of the bottom of the screen, which meant that over half of the subtitles were obscured. Did I mention that I'd been waiting to see this movie for about 2 years? Needless to say, I spent most of the movie playing bob-and-weave, trying to get some semblance of what the hell was being said; this, no doubt, made the person behind me do the same (and so on and so on), making the entire length of the theater wish death upon the person in front of them. The movie was excellent, though! I really forgot my fury after only a few minutes because I was enjoying the movie so much... all-in-all, a great time.

Urbana was 30 degrees warmer than Portland today. Also, I ate at a new restaurant today: Da Rib Shack. It is, in fact, located in an actual shack. I would rate the food a solid B-, though it gets an A for ambiance: a tin shack, 3 crock pots, and 6 booths (located on the lawn). And it's only a block from my house!

Where I'm Calling From

Hello from a giant box!

Paul's tv came yesterday, so I took the opportunity to play kitty-kat and sit inside for awhile. I think I may just ship myself back at Christmas instead of springing for a plane ticket.

Hey, I finally took some photos of my house.
Behold, 3511 N. Michigan! Aside from the fact that those trees are filled with giant spiders, it's a nice place to live. We have the top floor, so I like to sit in the balcony and spy on passersby. The front window is Paul's room, and the window up-top is the loft.

Here's my room, home of the really expensive bed that hurts my back and neck. My window overlooks the backyard and alley, which look like this:

As usual, the second I moved in, they began construction on the lot across the alley. My old friend the backhoe usually pulls in at about 8 a.m.

Here's the other side of my room, which leads into the bathroom.

Kitchen!

More Kitchen!

Living room and Ben. He's easy on the eyes, isn't he? Actually, I might be thinking of someone else.

Bathroom, washer & dryer, looking into my room.

From the bathroom, you go up a tiny ladder to get to the loft!

The loft, which could be your bedroom if you decided to come live here.

Come on, you'd even get your own urinal!

Balcony.

View from the balcony, otherwise known as "The Jewel of Michigan Avenue." You can't really tell from the photo, but the front fence is painted to look like a train. There also appears to be a cutout of a gingerbread man amongst all the scrap plywood. Unfortunately, I was not able to capture the pitbull that's usually chasing its own tail, nor did I get the rusted-out pickup that sits idling in the driveway for hours at a time. See how the stairs elegantly and ingeniously lead directly to the pile of loose boards? This is no mere junkyard, but a masterpiece of urban planning!

Strictly Catatonic

Well, I think I've hit rock-bottom. That's right: I've now experienced the humiliation that can only come from being dissed by strangers on Craigslist. Portland is big into Craigslist; I use it daily to apply for jobs, and I also like to browse other sections to make fun of the insane ramblings that people love to post. I usually browse "Strictly Platonic" in hopes that a future best friend will post something applicable to me ("Nabokov lover seeks girl pal for string theory discussions and celebrity gossip"), though it's usually the same old ads, over and over again ("Yo I am laid back 5'9 180 I like chillin w/freindz so if you want to hit me up thats cool"). However, I finally saw a few gems, so I e-mailed my wittiest repartee in hopes that SOMEONE, ANYONE, would meet me for a damn beer and get me out of the house. That was a week and a half ago. No responses. Even strangers on the internet are now rejecting me! THANKS, PORTLAND.

In other news, I have finally discovered yoga. Like most other things in life (save Francois Ozon film release dates), I got the news about 10 years after the rest of the world. In short, yoga is amazing. I guess those 25 million people were right!

Hollywood Squares

Some OMG's for you:

1) I saw Colin Meloy! I went over to the bike shop to pick up some lights, and he was there with his (adorable) girlfriend and baby. I was kind of starstruck, actually, though I tried to be smooth and pretend I hadn't listened to his records 8 zillion times. Colin Meloy! We also almost scratched his car in the parking lot. I'm pretty sure he would have just laughed it off and asked us to get some hot ciders with him, though.

2) I saw Stereo Total! They're so much fun live, which is just what we needed after a week of being stepped on. They even played my favorite song, which anyone who's ever been to Rentertainment has no doubt heard ad nauseum:

Stereo Total - L'amour a 3

More importantly, though, they sat behind us at a restaurant before the show! We heard some accents behind us, so I half-turned to look while saying, "Aww, a French ladyyyyyheyyyyywhoooooaaaaa that's Stereo Total!" We spent most of our meal going "Tee-hee!" and nudging each other. The most hilarious part was that no one else seemed to realize who they were, though we were in a restaurant connected to the venue which was populated almost entirely by irritating hipsters who were coming to see the concert. Most entertaining were the people with Stereo Total t-shirts who were too busy being cool to realize that the band was sitting two tables over.

More from the archives

Fred playing soccer at Shadie's picnic:



Stefanie and Jon hating me as I force them to play a part in my school project:


"It's... 123, uh, Cherry Street!"

The best one is of the Meatloaf sing-along at my last birthday party, but I have to compress that one because it's so long. Just you wait!

live your way into the answer

It turns out that moving is humbling. People ask me what I do all day, and the real answer is this: I get rejected, from everything, over and over and over again. The job situation can basically be summed up by the fact that I heard a worker at Ikea talking about how he has a Master's degree. He was helping people choose mattresses.

Hey, remember how I used to work in a video store for six years? One funny thing (minus the funny part) is that I even got rejected for part-time work at a video store! I took my resume there because they had a "Help Wanted" sign, and I thought it would be sort of a fun back-up job. I didn't even get an interview! I guess I better start working on my Doctorate so I can maybe get a few hours at a gas station.

Luckily, there is Rilke for such times:
"Have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don't search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer."

Luckily, there is also this video for such times:

Mai Tai Mai Tai

I finally had a real weekend of going out in Portland, and luckily it began with a trip to a tiki bar. "Thatch" ended up being a fantastic little place with a real working stream inside and an awesome playlist of 50's surf music. Not surprisingly, lots of middle-aged men in bowling shirts hang out there. Pictured is a $28 drink called a Volcano Bowl which, as you can see, is on fire. Ben later got something called a "Donkey Punch," which consisted of 151, cherry brandy, and a splash of soda water. He claimed that it was tasty, but I think it was the Volcano Bowl talking.

Last night, we went to Amnesia with Paul, and I was finally able to meet a few nice new people. This hotshot hairdresser from L.A. was harping on one of the girls for getting cheap haircuts; he gestured to me and said, "Now see, her haircut looks great, it's perfect for her face!" I think I ruined his life when I revealed that my "perfect" haircut was actually a $12 job from Great Clips. Punk'd!