Workin' For The Man Every Night And Day

The official form to request additional help by employing either a temp or a new-hire is called...wait for it...

REQUISITION TO SPEND SHAREHOLDER'S MONEY

That's it. That's what the form is called. I kid you not. Fucktards.

Welcome to Corporate America.

I hate this place.

Cheese

This post isn't about cheese. I lured you here under false pretenses. I'm tricksy like that.

I'll post some pictures of our little jaunt to Hood River anon. Anon means later. So don't expect them right away. I have a lot of work to catch up on.

Oregon is an interesting place. A lot of equally eclectic and soulless businesses have sprung from our moist earth like Nike, Norm Thompson, Harry and David, MercyCorp, etc. We've housed Will Vinton Studios which used to be a mecca for claymation (see The California Raisins). Goonies was filmed here, as was Stand By Me, Kindergarten Cop (I KNOW!) and My Own Private Idaho. Speaking of which...Oregon is the reason the world is graced with Gus Van Sant and WAS graced with the glorious face of River Phoenix (bro Joaquin is just as hot but in an uglier way).

It is also...and most importantly...the birthplace of The Simpsons (in the form of its creator). Elliot Smith (sigh) lived here and wrote songs about the Rose Parade...Chuck Palahniuk gave us Fight Club and the fucked up house on Clinton St. with mannequin arms sticking out the windows. We have more breweries and wineries than you can shake a stick at...and I can shake a lot of sticks.

We also have salmon...salmon falling out of the sky and landing...grilled...upon our hungry little laps.

And if you have cancer...you can smoke pot.

And if you don't have cancer...I'm still relatively certain you can find pot.

And if you're gonna die anyway, you can choose to euthanize your sick self...which is nice...you know...to have the option.

And Portland is a geographical marvel in that you travel a couple hours in any direction and you can be on a beach, a volcano, in the high desert, in a green valley filled with vineyards, or in a forest with fairyland waterfalls filled with the awe-inspired laughter and flash clicks of little Japanese tourists.

It sounds like a pretty neat place, right? So why don't I like it here?

This is why.

Companies like Nau.

Nau is a clothing company that has started here in Portland that is trying to...well, let me just quote the site, "blend beauty, performance and sustainability and a business that blends philanthropy and commerce". Yep. I couldn't have said it better myself.

So I hear about it here and work...and then I hear about it on the radio and I think...hmmm, I bet they're full of shit. So I go to the website. Yep. Full of shit. And I'll tell you why; it's a valiant goal...but none of those things go together. They just don't. It's like turducken, you know? They're taking altruism and environmentalism and turning it for a profit to rich...and colorblind people.


Take this dress. This is a nice, simple dress. But $138??? And it only comes in one color? Now, I like the environment as much as the next gal...and this dress has some very cute qualities. But give me a fucking break. No one is going to
pay this. Well, let me rephrase that...no one is going to pay this and then go do roundhouse kicks in it. AND by titling it as such...this enviro-friendly garment is promoting violence. Tisk tisk.









And look at this shirt. Magic door or no, $55 is ridiculous. For $55, this thing better be hand-sewn by wood nymphs. Look at it! It's like somebody spilled coffee on it and then when they couldn't wash out the stain, they were all...'hey, this shit looks cool. I could charge a lot for it...now I'm going to go knife the homeless'.










This woman just discovered how much this "base layer meets light sweater" costs. She's stunned. But it's better as it has THREE colors to choose from...charcoal, olive and sea. That's right...the three well-known shades of depression. What better shades to sell in the Pacific Northwest where grey paints the skies from October to June. Reeeeeal smart. And the seams are "curved to reflect the organic nature of your human form". So according to Nau, there's "literally" organic and there's "figuratively" organic. Both succeed in enhancing moral superiority.



You might be wondering where I'm going with all of this. Well, I'm wondering too. But I think I'm trying to point out that while this state has a lot of progressive things going for it...there's a veneer of hypocrisy that I find hard to stomach. We rave about our recycling as we toss paper cup after paper cup from Starbucks into the trash cans. We have "organic clothing" stores in the most exclusive (and I mean that in the most non-inclusive way) and expensive section of town, and we have more earth-loving hippies driving gas-guzzling, fume seeping Volkswagen buses of anywhere I've ever seen.

This clothing company Nau is the perfect example for why this city doesn't sit well with me on a regular basis. That being said...next time I go to Starbucks, I'll probably still throw away my cup. But at least I won't be doing it in a $140 roundhouse, charcoal dress made by wood nymphs. All hail hypocrisy.

Doin' It For The D

So this is d. I've introduced him before, I know, but it needs doing again as this post is specifically for d. I happened upon his blog one probably not sunny day back in, I don't know when and read some post regarding a "rogue sun" which produced a giggle fit from me. So I was hooked. Funny guy. Strange. But funny. He and his girlfriend (who loves shoes only slightly more than I do) live in Calgary, Canada. A place where I imagine moose run rampant in the streets. He also likes candy a lot. And that's pretty much all I know about d. That and he likes basketball...which brings me to my point.

One time, d said something about buying candy from a Bulk Barn. I panicked at the thought. Candy from a barn? That's just unsanitary. As you can imagine...a barrage of questions about such a ghastly idea were hailed upon him. To allay my fears and prove to me that the Bulk Barn was indeed, no barn at all (and therefore...not dirty...not 'barn' dirty anyway), he took and posted a picture. I thanked him for said picture and asked if there wasn't anything I could take a picture of for him in return. He decided on a picture of a Trailblazer (our NBA team here in Portland...they suck ASS). But a deal is a deal...and he's been waiting for a long long time.

So here they are, without further ado...the pictures:




Here are the Blazers milling about.













Here they are playing and consequently, losing.












And lookey here...a time out thing.









Here's the taker of the pictures...my workmate Ryan who was told he needed to pretend to pick his nose. Not very convincing.







Here is Jen's leg. She went to the game with Ryan. She likes watching our little pothead team lose. Apparently, they were trying to photocapture drunken rednecks here...but that didn't work out so well.




So there you have it, d. It only took a year or something...but I did it! I got you Blazers pictures! Huzzah!

Happy Friday.
(I know it's not really friday, but Kansas and I are going on a mini vacay)

St. Drunkard's Day..."shaw sh-shaw shaw"

Top o' the mornin' te ya. Well, it's not really morning...top or otherwise, but still.

Allow me to introduce the players...Me, Kansas, Amy G., Danny (her boy), Kellie and Marie all went out for St. Patty's Day. We hit a bar opening in The Pearl (uppity part of town that Gus Van Sant lives and gets DUIs in) and danced drink-induced jigs til our feet hurt.

I also discovered a fantastical new drink...the Green Wedding. Marie found it...and made it...and served it: Champagne, Midori, and Vodka. Hello friend. Went down smooth and happy-like. Like pudding. Only nothing at all like pudding.

The evening began at Marie's House of Globes...where we drank our Green Weddings and ate cured meats while watching Amy get her man Danny ready for his big night. It IS her special talent after all.

Once under the tent and listening to the smooth, solid sounds of some Irishtastic band I couldn't name...there was more drinking...and some bead wearing...and then more drinking...and look what came out! The face! It's like a sickness.

Later in the evening...Kellie received a free Miller High Life from someone wandering around with a bucket of them. Kellie loved her Miller High Life. Loved.

At some point in the evening...Amy turned cannibal. That's her "I'm gonna eat you, wee one" face. It alarms me. But that's only after the fact. At the time, I probably couldn't have even focused on her. This was about 6 drinks in.


Hey LOOK! It's a sock! What joy is mine...a sock it is!


This was taken by me (I think) whilst sitting with Kansas upon a curb at the very end of the night. I'll let you all be the judge of my...um...state.


I ate so much bacon the next day. And I was grumpy with absolutely everyone. Sorry everyone. Thank you bacon. I love you.

The end.

And So I Did...

Talking about my night with Kansas
Jennifer: jesus. You are a lucky woman
Kara: it gets worse...
Kara: ok, backstory:
Kara: we went to this funky place on Hawthorne called House...it has retro furniture and junk sometime last weekend i think....
Kara: and i freaked out over this bar cart
Kara: it's so cool, it has wheels and the trays are removable, and i was all "i'm so gonna buy that"
Kara: and he's like "you should think about it and come back for it"
Kara: well i guess yesterday he got concerned that it wouldn't be there if i went back for it...so he bought it on his way home from work...and a bottle of champagne...and a rose...you know...for the top
Kara: and then asked me to come check out his new nightstand
(pause)
Kara: and now you may puke
Jennifer: that is disgusting. And if you ever think about getting rid of this one, I shall smite you into a thousand pieces
(pause)
Jennifer: ok, I feel as if I have a bat in the cave, and it sucks
Kara: not that i can see
Kara: and i won't get rid of him
Jennifer: hidden bat. Invisi-bat
Kara: maybe it's glommed onto the stalagtites
(pause)
Kara: this conversation makes me laugh
Kara: i might have to blog it

5 hours later
Jennifer: I feel like the effing bat is still there

All We Are Is Dust In The Wind

Tonight is the Modest Mouse show! Yaaaaay! Except I'm still not allowed to have booze til Saturday. Boooo! Stupid medicine. Stupid body requiring the stupid medicine. Stupid.

So it's been three weeks, I can officially give my New Boy his title...hold for dramatic pause...KANSAS! That's right...he's from Kansas...so he will be called Kansas as his job title is just too long. Honestly, I don't know where this guy has been all my life (well...the obvious answer to that would be Kansas)...but I haven't been this happy in ages. Don't worry though...my cynical bitchiness will still find its way onto this blog because I still hate my job...thank god...and old people...and Hummers...and generic brands of ketchup...etc. So we're good.

And last night...Jen, Kansas and I go see Little Children. First off...everyone should see this movie. Todd Field is one of my favorite directors. His social commentary is painful, hilarious, dark and twisted at the same time...it's absolutely my favorite style of filmmaking and it should be supported. Second of all...Kate Winslet is my favorite actress. If I batted for the other team...it would be because of her...but that saying shouldn't really apply because baseball metaphors don't seem appropriate when hinting at lesbianism. Or maybe they're too appropriate. Who the jebus knows. Anyway, see it. And then get back to me.

So before the movie starts, we're sitting there in our little duck row and somehow got on the topic of the astronaut stalker who drove 900 miles in something like 4 hours to kidnap her lover's lover. As anyone who's heard of this already knows, to drive such a distance in such a short amount of time...something essential must be ignored. Something surrounding a primal urge. No...I'm not talking about sex...keep it together, people. She wore diapers. I have taken to calling them space diapers. So when she showed up to confront her lova's lova...she did so with crap in her pants. Nice.

But that's not what concerned us. What concerned us is how far away space is. I mean...if 900 miles requires space diapers...does it follow that one diaper is all you need to go into space? How many miles away is space? I mean, it's not like you can just take a plane straight up 900 miles to see if you're still in blue sky and then be like "Ok, reset the odometer...we're goin' back down and having a slice o' pie". You just can't do that. Can you? Wouldn't it be cool if you could? I think that's what we settled on...it'd be cool if you could. So those are the kinds of conversations that make us special. That is all. Carry on

...my wayward son.

Sorry, I had to.

Time Bandits

Let me outline for you yet another reason why the Bush Administration needs to be voted off the island. This year, daylight savings has been moved up several weeks to (according to NPR) save the country on energy costs by allowing for more time in the day with actual light. According to the Bush Administration, with light automatically comes heat and therefore, heating costs and energy usage will go WAY down and everyone will frolic amongst their extra currency in a field of golden wheat.

What. The. Fuck.

First off. It's now darker for much longer in the mornings. What's the first thing one does when they finally drag their near dead carcass out of bed and onto the ice-cold wood floor of the bedroom? Why, they turn on the lights and crank up the heat! And I don't know about you...but the hot shower is a LOT harder to leave when it's cold and dark...so my shower time probably doubles...yay energy usage!

The whole thing is a scam. I'm convinced Bush did it so he could start golfing earlier in the year. That's my theory though. One that is substantiated by absolutely nothing other than the fact that he likes to golf.

I hear they don't even observe it in Arizona. I've never really had any sort of urge to visit Arizona, but when my alarm went off at "7:00" this morning (and this is after New Boy's went off at "3:30"...yeeeah), I was all ready to buy a one way ticket, you know?

I guess what I'm trying to say with all this is...I want my hour back you mangy thieves! Give it back or I will destroy you!

Ok...that outburst completely drained all of my energy. I'm going to make tea. Black tea. Black as the blackest morning tea.

Somtimes...I Ramble.

Why does a candy bar with such a fantastic name have to taste like complete and total pooh. Not literal pooh. Cause ew. But there's no chocolate...no caramel...peanuts everywhere...it's just bad news.

My paltry raise kicked in today. To celebrate, I bought one of those new-fangled ipod speaker thingys/thingies/thingees so I can play it in my room. It's black. I've been spending more time in my room lately. Yep. My room. Bedrooms in general. If I could raise one knowing eyebrow in your general directions at this very moment...I most certainly would be doing so. But again...I'm not giving any details. This new and wonderful thing needs to at least make it to the three week mark before I start dishing.

Oh, and I bet you're wondering what happened to Web Designer. Absolutely nothing interesting. I know. Disappointed, aren't you. Instead of turning out to be a freak...he just turned out to be dull. These middle ground kind of men...somehow they're so hard to come by. Either they dress in women's clothing...or they're silent during dinner. Either way, they have to be chucked.

Well, I've found a middle ground now. Interesting without being too much of a freak. And I'm breaking my own shush rule, so I'm shutting up about it right now.

Work has been frustrating today and all my plants are dying. I can't keep plants alive for the life of me. And I only have two. A bamboo at work and a money tree plant at home. Both are yellow with bits falling off all over the place. At first I thought I was watering them too much, so I stopped for a while. And then I realized that "a while" can be a problematic amount of time in itself...so I started trying to remember to water them again. I even stuck both of them in the window so they could get some fucking light. This was ages ago (probably a couple weeks) and they're still at deaths door. So I quit. Fuck plants. I don't need their oxygen anyway. They can suck my CO2.

Today on the bus there was this guy wearing a fedora with crystals affixed to it. Like...four of them. He was also toting a walking stick/staff of sorts with crystals and feathers at the top. I wanted to ask him if they were magic...but he had searing eyes that I didn't want pointed in my general direction. I mean...I didn't have any crystals to fight back with, you know? What if he'd decided to use his for evil?

You have to be careful about these things.

Incest...Peppermints

You know that song that goes "Incense, peppermint...color of time"? Well, ever since I read this article, I've been singing "Incest, peppermints...kids with three eyes", and I just can't seem to stop. Here's a kick ass karaoke version of the song...uh uh.

That's right...the German brother and sister who have been living as man and wife and have brought forth from their unholily united loins...3 or 4 children who have yet to show their tails and will have a VERY difficult time with adulthood...and their fucked up lawyer is calling Germany's Incest Law a "historical relic". Look, I swear:

He said that the couple were causing no harm to others. "Everyone should be able to do what he wants as long as it doesn't harm others."

Incest is not illegal in many of Germany's neighboursing countries, he said. The law was a "historical relic".

I can't even begin to outline the fucked-upedness of this story...but I AM thankful to note that it IS taking place in Europe as opposed to...say...Kentucky (though it's probably just not documented in Kentucky). Regardless...the term "as long as it doesn't harm others" is fraught with subjectivity. As I said above, the children have yet to show signs of extra extremities...but the chance of their having a balanced adult life is totally and completely shot.

And if you didn't already think that these two were prime candidates for populating the world...consider this statement by Mr. GrossBrotherGuy:

Speaking to a German newspaper, Mr Stübing said the couple decided to have more children after the authorities took their first-born away. "The younger children might not have been born had they not taken the first one from us," he said. "We just want to make sure that we don't lose everything again."

Yep. Certainly the best reason I can think of for procreating repeatedly. Once the kids stop getting taken away, my guess is they'll keep trying for more until they get a redhead. Because why not, right?

Oh wait...but they can't. The article also states that Mr. GrossBrotherGuy has been steralized. WELL FUCKING DONE, GERMANY!

Silence is Golden

You've all missed me, haven't you. Well I'm sorry. I've been busy. It's not easy keeping this tight ship running. Sometimes it doesn't stay so tight. It loosens up and I have to go tighten it again. Sometimes with twisty ties, sometimes with string...and sometimes by running it through an extra cycle in the dryer.

I'm not making sense.

I'm sensing you sense that.

I've met a boy. Not a boy that I've talked about. He's a new boy. And he's one of the main reasons I haven't had a moment to write in this here blog. I don't want to write about him though. I don't want to tell you anything. He's my secret. And as long as he's my secret...nothing can go wrong. Yes...I like fantasy worlds too.

So the outside world hasn't existed for a while. That's probably not a good thing since I'm sure there are things I should be doing. When are taxes due? Whatever...anyway, this is going to be a short post because even this sedated level of gushing is making me want to punch my own self in the ovaries. A counter-productive move, if I do say so myself.

Oh, and Laura and I did another Condicast but the sound quality was so poor...as was our comedic timing...that we scrapped it. That's only bad news for the 1/3 of you who could actually listen. The ... I got interrupted here and now have no idea what I was going to say. Shoot.

I just ate two thin mints. I love you, girl scout cookie manufacturers.

I'll post again when I'm less moonie. Maybe minus one less ovary.