Snow What

Fellow Portlanders,

If you are reading this you have located a spot out of the winter bluster (or perhaps fearless, and hot blooded, in the winter bluster). I would like to take this moment and note my winter observance for the current state that exist outside your computer.

1. About one out of every Twenty Five drivers on the road right now is driving like a reckless dummy. The Twenty Four others are driving so slow that they could probably recite a whole entire play in the span of their drive. Twenty Five out of Twenty Five drivers on the road are driving like dummies (present company included).

2. Snowy weather leaves the smell of bad cologne, booze, and anything that could possibly be smoked, stagnant in the air. I'm telling you as I walked down Hawthorne blvd. the blocks swapped smelling like racetracks, casinos, Abercrombie and Fitch, ash trays, you name it!

3. Rubber boots from the bins saved my walk. No joke, I bought these boots from the bins (now hold your comments about contracting stds into my feet, or stepping in dirty diapers till the end of "3" please). Not only did I not even slip, I walked twice as fast as do when it's not snowy. It does sort of feel like my feet are robot feet that are aimlessly controlling my body. I seriously saw at least, AT LEAST, 3 people slip (in a one mile walk). Who cares if my feet have herpes, or somebodies lost tooth stuck in them, I was to busy setting world records to notice (by that I mean going fast in the snow). Oh and by the way, feel free to bin comment...now.

I hope everyone on the other side of this screen is as cozy as I am, in my 2 pairs of sweat pants, socks, and my robot feet (yeah yeah there are shirts in the mix too). All aboard next stop ashtraycologneboozeydummyVille!

Tis the Season

Happy Fucking Holidays

Happy Fucking Holidays

Happy Fucking Holidays

Happy Fucking Holidays

Happy Fucking Holidays

Top That

What I would give for a necklace like teen witch. Just think of all the rap battles I could have won.

Dear world wide web, it's me Emily...

Testing 1, 2, 3. Ok, Hello, hi,  (awkwardly) is this thing on? Although I'd like to think I've been doing something fantastic over the past two weeks which has prevented me from spilling my  blog thoughts and guts out... alas everything has been quite usual around here, except for the slow internet that is. The internet has  been comparable to when my family  got internet for the first time  (or as some of you might say "the world wide web"). With the dial up, and the "beeeeep boooop beeep....then the static noise" then the "HEY, DON'T PICK UP THE PHONE, I'M TRYING TO GET ON THE WORLD WIDE WEB" (maybe not in those exact words, but for some reason I like to imagine me yelling that with my hammer pants, high top converses, and large black sweat shirt with an advertisement for a play, the one  with white geese... I wore that in both my third and 4th grade school pictures... ah thank you).  When I was a kid, we didn't have twitter,  you couldn't even use the phone at the same time as the internet (and we had to walk up hill barefoot in snow, or whatever). I guess what I'm trying to get at is, there was no writers block, just writers blog? (tough crowd). Just a bad case of the ol' 90's dial up, nothing to worry about folks. 

FIRST HANUKKAH GIFT OF THE SEASON

Love Potion # Walla Walla Bing Bang

Did you ever listen, like really listen to the lyrics of the song THE WITCH DOCTOR? It's catchy, yes, but what in tarnation? I told the with doctor I was in love with you (cue the "bum bum bums")skip all the part about being true... blah blah blah skip to the advice of the witch doctor, the very good advice that the witch doctor tells the love seeker to do...(now brace yourself, you might be in a love bind,  you might need to win a heart, I think the witch Doctor can really spark a flame, pay attention...) AND GO: she said, ooh eee ooh ah ah ting tang walla walla (not the onions) bing bang" repeat that little ditty twice, and you are headed straight down the path to Las Vegas, to get married, or something.  Be careful. I think it's sort of like that movie Love Potion #9 (yeah, I know the song came first), a magic (yet unrealistic) spell resulting in true love, not to mention transitioning glasses to contacts!  

Note the difference, that's all potion baby!

I Frickin' Love You, Yes You...

I Love You More Then Words Can Say-Karen Dalton

Look At Me (loud version)-John Lennon

Try A Little Tenderness- Otis Redding 

Prelude No. 16 (J.S Bach)-John Lewis

Sitting In The Park-Billy Stewart 

A-wreath-a franklin

A homemade wreath compiled with buttons, yarn, and spray paint.

Workin' for the Weekend

And the weird thing is, these men are (gasp) twins.

LOVE BON JOUR

The denim skirt was acid washed, with an elastic high waist.  It looked like a brand new, preservation time traveled from 1985. It had a fantastic tag! I could resist the skirt, but the tag I could not. 

You can tell they really love each other, by the matching hair streaks! 

Yes, your eyes aren't lying, it does say: I'll love you here to Eternity. My blue jean baby.

Workin' for the Weekend

I Frickin' Love You, Yes You...

Baby Let Me Follow You Down (live acoustic version)-Bob Dylan

This Must Be The Place (Naive Melody)- Talking Heads                           

Come Softly To Me-The Chantels

Rue St. Vincent- Yves Montand

A Little Lost- Arthur Russell

Sweet Thing- Van Morrison

Worst Date Ever

It was the worst date I ever had. The red batman symbol sticker on the middle of the rear window of the red 99' honda civic, should have been a sole indicator. "Turn away (sounds like "tuuurrrn aawwwwaaaay" in a deep voice)... "don't go there" (kind of like warning spooky voices in a haunted house). I was 18, in a new city, a new apartment, I was desperate for human contact besides my family (don't get me wrong, I love my family).  In the car ride, we talked about the sports we played in high school (boring). At times our voices were masked by the bad latest rap song.

"I ran cross country" I'd say

"WHAT?" He'd say.

"DROP IT LIKE IT'S HOT DDDRRR RR OP IT LIKE IT'S HOT" said the radio.

I know, that should have been my que to plead "the bathroom" and start running the opposite way of the car. That didn't happen. I just kept on riding in that car, the one with the Batman sticker, towards...wait wait wait wait, "are we going to Beaverton?" 

We show up at THE OLD SPAGHETTI FACTORY... in Beaverton, in the Batman car, with the sports conversations ( I know I know, I sound like an asshole, but seriously, would you be happy?) Blah blah blah, skip to the parts where I'm ordering a drink appealing to a minor, like a strawberry lemonade. Just when I thought that maybe I was being unfair, my drink is placed in front of me. (QUE the condiments)... ok go! In come salt, pepper, parmesan cheese, sugar, the date... my date is actually putting these things into MY drink. 

"What the hell are you doing?" I ask in a "What the hell are you doing" type tone.

"I dare you to drink that" He says (as if he was being cute, and flirty). 

"Dare me to drink that? I'm not going to dr..." I start to say.

"FINE, I wi.." Mid way through the word "will" he is drinking my lemonade, condiments and all. It pretty much went on like that, bad... really awkward, all the way to the very last bad rap song home. 

 

It's kind of LIke this... Big Time

But Seriously, Who Are These Geniuses?

www.rainbowdropshadow.com

Workin' for the Weekend

What's that story about the engine that could?

I was like a condescending  kindergarten teacher this morning as I drove to work. 

"Come on, you can do it" (I said to my car sensitively). My car has been in the shop for two days. Paying to replace your transmission is like breaking your legs without health car, expensive, painful, and embarrassing because your friends write "hope you feel better" all over your cast... Ok so maybe it's not at all like that, and maybe it is, I can't say that I've ever had duel leg casts, or single... Let us all take a moment to knock on virtual wood. 

This morning as my car drove along through traffic, I felt like a dog trainer, or a person talking to a baby learning to crawl "you're doing great," I'd say, patting the dashboard. I know I know, it sounds nuts to type, and I sounded... looked nuts this morning (and I'm not talking about peanuts and cashews). I think it will take a few days, before I can fully trust that my car is not going to, break it's legs, and wear the hot pink casts, or whatever. 

Name Sake

Do you ever meet someone, who has a name that goes fantastically to the tune of a song? Every time you hear the name, or say it, you can't help but think of, I don't know Snoop Dogg or something. Just me?  A customer that I work with has a name that sounds so good to the tune of Lady Madonna by The Beatles. Due to confidentiality reasons I can't attempt to blog sing his name.  Let's see here. Ok I got it, my Mom tells me a story about when I was 3 years old, sitting in my car seat, riding home from a car pool... in the car pool lane (ok that last part is untrue, about the "car pool lane" I was just testing your focus, and I'm not talking about the car). Are you still with me? Excellent (in the tune of a creepy Mr. Burns, old man, twiddling his fingers). So I was in my car seat, and when Debra Kem, my chauffeur (by that I mean, Eli Kem's Mom) so when Debra open's the door, I sez I sez to Debra, (or I guess I sing to Debra) "Debra Kem, Debra Kem Debra Kem Debra Kem Debra K eh eh em" (that was obviously in the tune of Hallelujah).  You should really try it some time, the whole name lyrics switcheroonie. In fact I challenge you, right now to try it... your own name with let's say... Hypnotize by Notorious B.I.G. You know, Biggie Biggie Biggie can't you see.... blah blah blah, GO!

In the tune of "Dance Magic Dance"

Labyrinth 

In the tune of "Me and My Shadow"

Time Bandits

A Fort Night

Last night I fell asleep the second we put the couch cushions on the floor, and I put myself on the couch cushions. 

Welcome home old crow

Welcome home old crow. Or I guess, it's the other way around... Old crow  would say to me: "Welcome home, old Emily" (I imagine a bottle of old crow whisky sounding a bit course, and sloshy... because of the liquid naturally). Last night as I made my decent from Seattle to Portland, right at the part when the stewardess should be saying something along the lines of "and to your left is Mt. St Helens... thank you for blah blah blah  blah  please buckle your seat belt..." right about then, is when my car broke down in Ridgefield fucking Washington. It broke down on the main drag, you know that hot little joint right off the freeway? Oh you're not familiar with the Chevron gas station? You aren't? Gulp, that's um, cool (in an awkward judgmental tone). But seriously, I'll skip the juicy details, like the part when we had to role the car off the main road on to this sketchy gravel road behind the Chevron station, I'll skip the bacon too (ooh tough crowd, get it... juicy, bacon... it's been a long long two days). 

Today my car resided behind Chevron,  to  await its tow. I can only imagine the time laps film of my car shamelessly waiting. Shall we imagine it together? Ok, Go:

So ok we drive away, me glancing back anxiously, like a kid saying good bye to your parents on the first day of kindergarten. Tick tick tick person pees all over the hood... tick tick tick (oh and by the way the "tick tick tick" is how I envision time laps film noise) tick tick tick... a raccoon climbs underneath my car and goes to sleep.... tick tick tick... someone harpoons, or perhaps nets the raccoon and cooks it on the fire they built on the hood my car... tick tick tick teenagers having sex.. tick tick tick and the night goes on... and the night goes on... and the night goes on. Meanwhile I'm at home in my bed snuggled into my nest of blankets, dreaming about the time laps of my car sitting behind the Chevron.

It's kind of LIke this...

Seattle bound... just for two days... I'm sure it will be something like this. 

Pinch Punch First of the Month

HAPPY HALLOWEEN

Birds of the Same Feather

Anyone out there know how to successfully transform a wire coat hanger into a bird cage?

Advice would be much obliged!

Ahead of the game

When you were a kid, did anyone ever tell you the ghost story about the woman who wore the ribbon around her neck? You know the one that starts off talking about the girl who was pretty, yet strange... in fact there was something different about her... she always wore a ribbon around her neck. I don't think the color of the ribbons is important, so I'm going to skip that part..there are some strange and mysterious things that happen... I'll skip those parts too. Skip the part where she gets married... still has the ribbon on...blah blah blah. 

Ok so at the end of the story, the girl who were so curious why she wears a ribbon around her neck is on her death bed (she is still wearing the ribbon). It just so happens that her husband is also curious why she wears the ribbon (probably in the part I skipped, the "blah blah blah: segment). So anyways after 65 years, or 82, or 90 or whatever, the husband decides to take off the ribbon... and.... HER HEAD FALLS OFF (because she's a ghost, naturally). Please take the time to take a breath if you are currently shaking in your virtual mind boots. I have something very important to tell you: fiddle sticks, a ribbon couldn't hold on a blimey ghost head, It's at least  8 lbs!

In the Tune of Monster Squad

Hey, remember the Monster Squad (circa 1987)? Wouldn't a Monster Squad tribute band be so delightfully good and bad, all wrapped up into the comfort of a toilet paper mummy costume? Everyone in the band would dress up like a character of the movie. People could switch as the show went on (and I'm sure there will be a lot of those...if you know what I mean...but seriously ... straight to the top folks) from monster costumes to 10 year old boy costumes. All the lyrics would be about the movie... with such  classic hits as Wolfman's got Nards and Creature Stole My Twinikie.... COMING SOON TO A HALLOWEEN PARTY NEAR YOU!

Get it, rainbow?

I know you're probably expecting some sort of, "if you were on a desert Island... which shoe would you take" question. Or maybe you think I own these.. nope.  I guess if there is an answer, it's probably not the blue shoes... or the red ones that look sort of like hooves... I guess the answer is throw all the shoes out the window of your helicopter as you fly over the deserted Island. 

California dreaming

Over the past five days I have been on a serious family tour! On Wednesday morning at the rooster's loud obnoxious symphonic cell phone alarm crack of dawn, we started our descent to the tip of California. Our final destination the Mary Dang/ Ken McLean Wedding, San Diego edition.

Smashed into two cars were my siblings and our respected others. Not to mention my brother and his girlfriend's belongings which they were moving with to California for the winter : A loom strapped to the top of the car, beer brewing stuff, boxes of clothes, boxes of yarn, stinky work boots.. you know the usual. The first day we drove to San Mateo to stay at our uncle's for the night, go go air mattress, and lacking winks (by that I mean sleep)! The next day we compiled into one car, all 5 of us. It was nice and cozy like a laughy, cranky, farty, too much timey in a small spacey, bear cave! Blah blah blah it was 18 hours total by the time we got to San Diego, I'll skip the part about the hour we spent in LA traffic making up the strangest children's names we could think up. "Foot blasheem Dart-McLean" or "Putrid Harris" ... the list goes on an on.

Our uncle married a Vietnamese Catholic woman. This meant the next three days were jam packed (but not limited to) family events intertwined with ceremonies, incredible keyboard bands, speeches, cognac (you know, the stuff that rappers sometimes rap about... or whatever), drunkin' uncles saying things like "you see that guy, now that is the definition of stud," drunkin' uncles saying things like "I'm going to confess everything to my parents tonight, how I hitch hiked, and smoked weed before school, how I jumped my parents car off a hill," dancing (including but certainly not limited to the ever so famous... jazersize moves performed by none other than my Mother), incredible professional dancers (that looked like the main characters of a really good 1990's ballroom dance movie). The weekend was like a family soup, a family fruit cake, a family grab bag. The weekend was intense, beautiful, long, and hilarious. The weekend was hung over.

To pass the small down time that there was, I watched Alex do hand stands in the pool. Looking good in your neon orange LA Gear Shorts (he said "it was fitting, with the Southern California theme"). There was a forty five minute beach stint. It consisted of body surfing among the surfers. My sister's boyfriend said he saw a sting ray in the water, I don't know if I believe him... he was currently glasses-less at the moment (a clump of seaweed has been known to look like a living thing).

This morning, once again we were up at the crack of cell phone alarm dawn. On the plane ride home I read my book crossing my mind fingers that I wouldn't throw up shark fin soup and wine all over the plane. I didn't. What a good weekend.

Vacation till Sunday

I can imagine it will be something like this...

Workin' for the Weekend