A Christmas Story

Merry Christmas from pretty Portland!

I didn't take this photo (the giveaway should be that it's actually in focus). Interestingly enough, I walked across this bridge a few days ago, after Ben and I were going back downtown after seeing Superbad (which was stupid! Sorry, America) and there was no "Merry Christmas" sign to be seen. There was, however, a deserted construction site, which I guess didn't make the cut for this particular photo.

Christmas actually started for me on Friday morning, when I saw my #1 Portland enemy (a high school kid who likes to yell obscenities in a Cartman voice on the 7:25 am bus) run face first into a telephone pole and knock himself out. Ho ho ho! I also saw a construction worker give cookies to a homeless man, which is probably a more acceptable thing to be excited about. At work we had our bagel brunch, which was fun, and then Ben flew in at about midnight. We've just been slothing around, cooking some food, and walking about. Yesterday Ben made a rosemary pork roast, which went so excellently with the rosemary cheese that Geoff and Jill sent (if you send a box of cheese, you too can be mentioned by name in this blog!). We then spent awhile watching "Yule Log 2002" on Oregon Public Broadcasting, which is a 3-hour shot of a fireplace. Every so often, a hand would come in to poke at the fire with a stick, or throw another log on, which was very exciting for us.

Fire: now in HD!

This morning, we got up, made some coffee, and watched FOUR judge shows in a row (Judge David, People's Court, Judge Mathis, and Judge Hatchette). Luckily, during Judge Hatchette it started to snow, so we had an excuse to leave the house and go for a walk.

Ben was excited.

The view from my balcony

A pile of old Coke bottles we saw

An alley near my house

Man, we turned off the judge shows for this?


Brr.

Portland's hottest ride

This is probably my favorite present of the year -- a "Tabby" pocket puzzle that Ben found at his parents' house. It's like when you spend $100 on an Erector set for your kid, and then he takes the box and plays with it all afternoon instead.

And finally, this is what happens when you try to take a self-portrait above a steaming pot. It's probably for the best that you can't really see our faces.