Everything I Tell you is Hearsay

and not just mine either. today i wished my friend lyza happy birthday about 8 times via several varying sorts of electronic media. i am pretty sure i was more excited about wishing her a happy birthday than she was about having one.

i do not know wherefrom this enthusiasm comes, either. cause it is not like birthdays were ever especially awesome for me. i have a tendency to get REALLY REALLY REALLY worked up and excited and then spend the actual day in various stages of hysteria. my 29th birthday is the only one in living memory i did not cry at least once. this was because i basically ignored the fact it was my birthday. there was much incredulity all around when i announced this plan, but it worked, in a manner of speaking. i wasn’t HAPPY exactly, but i didn’t cry.

this year i’m back to hopping-up-and-down-obnoxious-excitement style birthday. it’s less confusing for my loved ones.

only 9 days left….

ohmygodmytripisfinallyhereandimleavinginonlyalittleovertwentyfourhours!

deep breaths.

i spent most of my day off yesterday running around doing trip prep. even my lunch date with TBIL ended up detouring to REI so we could buy gear for our respective outdoor jaunts. he needed biodegradable potty paper. i am happy to say, i will not be going QUITE that rustic.  i did buy a super kick ass Benchmark® atlas-cum-recreation guide, nalgene, and RIDONKULOUSLY bright LED flashlight. couldn’t find any pepper spray (which was more for the peace of mind of my loved ones than for me) but the bear repellent was like $45. i’ll take my chances with smokey for that price.

went over and bought a 1/4 cord of firewood, which as it turns out, is WAAAAAAAY more wood than will fit in the cargo box i am borrowing from Mr Pencil. packed spare logs in all the places in the car that wont be likely to send slivers of barkdust into my bed. leaving the rest at home for later use in our little patio firebowl. also seized by the realization that all that time alone in the car is BEGGING for a pack of fancy expensive* smokes. so i stopped at the smoke shack on Foster and procured a package of Nat Sherman Natural Mint Cigarettes. i’ve promised myself i wont smoke one until i’m on the road, but oh, the sheer joy at sliding them across the counter, at holding the square green box in my hands. also, got a bright shiny new lighter of the crack torch variety. heeee hee hee.

spent the rest of the day shopping and packing and organizing and sorting. crates of kitchen items, bags of bathroom stuff. cameras**, ipod, tarot cards & books, guitar, journal, bicycle, knee braces, frisbee (maybe i’ll meet a friendly transient in the wilderness who wants to play?!)***

and all other manner of goodies to try and keep myself occupied on my journey. all needs done now is to fill my spare with air, load everything into Klaus, and roll.

am planning to avoid the internets (assuming i would even have service). may have apoplexy keeping away from twitter. we’ll see….

*turns out my fancy smokes are lots less expensive if i buy them in the ghetto!

**have managed to lose media card for one camera and have only flaky crazy weird wont-turn-on-all-the-time camera plus one disposable film camera to get me through. peeewp.

***maybe this is why i need the pepper spray…

in Portland every year there is a fundraiser hosted by Providence Health Systems. it essentially involves all of the bridges across the Willamette being closed or modified to traffic so that the bikers can descend and ride over them. i’ve been meaning to do it for years, but this was the first time it all worked out. TBIL hooked me up with some of his coworkers who were doing the 8 bridge course and we were off.

this process was not only really fun and rewarding, it was instructional. i learned the following things:

• you can appear to have all the trappings of a semi-serious cyclist and still have a gigantic ass
• getting into a traffic jam with bike is just as annoying and actually more scary than in a car
• the more derisively you yell “ON YOUR LEFT” the less i want to move aside
• the sense of superiority you achieve by yelling “ON YOUR LEFT” with such derision is illusory. everyone else thinks you are a fucktard.
• just because an event is hosted by a health care system does not mean first aid will be available when and where you might need it. (poor Gindy)
• riding all the way to the top of the app roach to the St John’s without stopping is ALMOST enough to make me pass out, and IS enough to make me see stars.
  
• there may be no greater pleasure in life than getting OFF one’s bike.
• when you send someone a text that reads “sweet holy baby jesus, my ass hurts” it is helpful if they have the context that you were riding 30 miles on your bike that day because otherwise they might assume you are just mentioning consequences from the party they hosted the previous evening.
  

feeling proud of myself, if still sore and tired. next weekend: climb mountain. time with family. can’t decide which is more daunting…

i must say, spring was singularly uninspiring in the sense of having much going on. so far, summer has been making up for this in spades. awesome things i have going on this weekend:

• acquisition of domain name, blog improvement plans, & shoe-admiration with Lyza
• birthday celebration for friend Darrin including (but not limited to) brewfest, dinner, karaoke, strippers…
• triathalon (mini, yes, but still)
• more brewfest w/ different friends. don’t want to deprive anyone of the opportunity to see me drunk after all, spectacle that it is. besides, i heart beer.
• golf with daddy. as long as he doesn’t spend the whole time cursing at me for wrecking his game, this should be enjoyable.
• shopping for bridesmaid dress with friend Danielle, other girlyness likely to ensue

ocean viewing weekend component missing, as well as smooching, but apart from that, all elements of amazing weekend are in place. can’t wait to take 952 pictures of shenanigans so as to properly recall said shenanigans later free from alcohol haze.

oh, lordy sometimes you get a good one.

in honor of the impending departure of the aforementioned Leslie, we had a grand campout over the weekend. we arrived midday on saturday to a glorious sunshine day with panoramic views of Mt’s Adams and Hood. keg was tapped, guitars and harmonicas in tune, frisbee aloft. it was excellent.

but as can happen when i start drinking in the middle of the day, come 7pm i was a wee bit toasted. and so, when i climbed into my passenger seat to reach across for my camera, i fell. and hit my face on the seatbelt reciever. fuckow. i managed to give myself a wee bit of a shiner. also bruised the inside of my palm playing so much frisbee.

watched Dune in the wee hours of the morning and annoyed the shit out of everyone reciting every 3rd line out of the film.

lovely Feyd…

met and was subsequently licked by a steer. i guess i’m salty.

yesterday. ended up at the strip club, cause nothing says “It’s the Lord’s day!” like naked bitches and cheap meat! and… after long searching… i found her: my strippl-ganger. two people pointed at her and were like “Hey, she looks just like YOU!” and she did. so i sat up at the rack watched her to pole tricks and touch my boobs. the boys around the rail seemed appreciative. good times.

i have it. bad.

this was reinforced last night when i picked up my latest random acquisition from the library; a book called The Rain Before it Falls by Jonathan Coe. this book is not only enjoyable to read, with a breathtakingly lovely premise and resonant singing prose, but it is a pleasure to touch and feel and hold in my hands. i am a great lover of the tactile merits of books, and this one is a beauty. a hardback from the library, i can’t strip it of its cover like i am wont to do left to my own devices, c’est la vie. it is otherwise delightful. taller and narrower than a typical hardback, the pages are an ever-so-slightly thicker than usual weight of paper finished in an uneven pseudo hand hewn edging that is a true delight to take hold of when the time comes to turn the page; soft and fringe-y. there are no heading numbers on the chapters, and i find this attractive for its spareness. the overall physical presence of this book is as lovely as what is unfolding in its pages, and that is a rare treat indeed.

and i realize this is something i haven’t thought about very much, but that i have definite opinions about. i like the variety of surfaces a hardback can offer; some are smooth and satiny in their paperstock, others have a more clothlike exterior with a nubbly texture that provides a satisfying grip. in terms of bed-friendliness (i must read myself to sleep at night or not get there at all) i prefer a stiff cardstock cover paperback of the type that are becoming more popular. they are larger and more enjoyable to hold than the standard paperback novel (though these cant be beat for one-handed-splayed-fingers reading while doing something else). they are also nicer to look at on the shelf; which i will admit has caused me more than a few times to spend extra money on the edition with the nicer spine and cover. silly, but a powerful motivator for me nonetheless.

listening to NPR the other day they were discussing the merits of various electronic reading devices and that same inner librarian i was mentioning yesterday shuddered at the notion of giving up a paper book to be held in hand. the weight of the text in my fingers, smell of ink and paper, the sound of the page as i turn through from one to the next; all these add in small but crucial ways to the pleasure i take in  discovering a book in full. i suppose one could say i want to know a book. in the biblical sense.

Need specs for all my various personalities: these are the frames they’re comping me. i like to think of this one as “naughty librarian fabulous”

not be be confused with “teachers pet pretty” or “audrey hepburn wannabe”

it involved laundry.

and as anyone who knows me knows, this is serious shit.

last year, i had to change my detergent after six or seven years of loyalty to the same brand and scent. i did this because my former boyfriend started using my brand of soap while we were together. so then all of his laundry started to smell like mine, and when he was no longer my boyfriend, but i longed for him, my laundry smelled like him and this upset me.

so.  my nose and i spent some serious time perusing the laundry aisle and came upon “Mrs Meyer’s Clean Day: Geranium” which smelled wonderful AND was girly enough that no man for whom i might someday long could possibly want to adopt as his washing soap.

and, you know, that worked ok. except that a) the soap didnt leave a distinct aroma on the clothes once they were dry (boo), 2) you could usually only find it at Zupans, and usually not in my preferred scent (also, boo) and 3) it was SO FREAKING EXPENSIVE I COULD NOT BELIEVE IT (extra double boo)

yesterday was the end of the line for me and Mrs Meyer’s.

went to freddy’s and put the sniffer to work. lo and behold…

good old tide (in a slightly more froofy package) with a vanilla and lavender scent. and it smells like heaven. hodie, who generally could not care less about this crap, smelled it and the following conversation ensued:

“doesn’t that smell good?”

“no, that smells AMAZING!”

also, co-workers. who also dont usually care about how i smell. everyone had to acknowledge the awesomeness of this aroma. so, yay.

oh, and i got a tattoo.

First Willie Nelson all morning. Soulful, lovely, winsome. I forget how deeply vintage country touches me. Now on OPB I’m watching Pete Seeger and he’s so wise and intelligent and political and gifted. It really does make me want to learn the banjo and sing heartwrenching songs about something light and true.

bsomething crazy, but exciting.

the clinic has been really slow, and we have more help than we need over the summer so dr. anne made it clear if i wanted some time off over the summer we could do that with ease. i wont get paid but i can have the time if i want it.

turns out i do.

neko case is my most favorite singer in all the land. and i find her music incredibly inspiring and her courage as a songwriter leaves me breathless and spurs me on. so. i want to see her in concert. she’s coiming to bumbershoot, but i hate festival shows. with a passion. and i’ve been to seattle 900 bajillion times.

i’ve never been to reno, though…

i bought myself a ticket this afternoon. i’m taking 4 days off. i’m going to drive so i can see southern oregon. i’m going to do this. i cant decide if i’m more scared or excited.

guess i’ll find out.