Having a car is a dangerous thing. It leads to seemingly innocuous trips to innocent places like Target. The only things on my list? Black socks, new underwear (as opposed to old?), and a mop. I really needed a mop.
I haven't been to a Target but twice in the past three years. Dripping wet (forgot my umbrella), visually overwhelmed, I must have looked like I needed assistance as I wondered down the shiny aisles.
"Can I help you find something m'am?"
M'am? Oh, god I must look a fright; old, wet and dazed with a wobbly cart. Quick, where am I? Electronics…ok, sound hip;
"Um, yeah, where are the iPods?"
I bought an iPod Nano. I still really need a mop.
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Damn it, I'm happy. Portland, more clearly than ever after some time in Smogville, is becoming a very liveable, enjoyable city with lots to offer. My job is good, I like what I do and I seem to not suck at it. I've had the chance to travel to see beloved family recently. Friends have journeyed here to see me. My dog still greets me with enthusiasm. I'm not painting, but I'm ok with that–it will come back, when I have the time and inspiration in the future-and I like that, I like that it's my little thing to pull out when it pleases me and me only. I have friends all over the world, most of whom keep in touch regularly with stories of adventures great and small. My little apartment is looking like a proper home, only a few projects remain and who wants to be short of home improvement projects anyway? My health is good; a good friend just the other day said I look great, that despite what I say about living here, it must work because it looks good on me. Ha ha. I think I finally let the boy go, so I'm ready for the next new boyfriend (that was only five years in the making). With the good job and new wheels, I have new freedoms to enjoy and adventures to plan. I was even recently paid to write about my crocheting hobby (and the resulting bersitus). So, I'm good, I'm ready..bring on the next big thing!
Ok, so it's good here. I'm happy. Damn it. -
The jaunty angle of the melted antenna on my new (used) car is 'sporty', people, 'sporty'! -
Ok, so I've been now to Los Angeles.
Portland? …..Not so bad! -
Rumor has it that my brother Tom enjoyed my visit. -
I drove my new (used) car more yesterday, visiting friends in L.A., than I've collectively driven any car in the last two years. (cross-country trip excluded). Having to find your way in Los Angeles, capitol of cars, is a great breaking-in for the newly reinitiated to driving. I no longer mind at all that the Jetta is an automatic.
It's a kick that a mapquest approximation of 15 minutes is actually, in reality, an hour in LA time. I could never live in a place where people say: "You took surface?" (meaning, you took regular streets, not the freeway?") -
I have not purchased a new used car. I have adopted it. I'm giving it a better home, I've saved it from a sad situation, am giving it the home it deserves. More on the story later. The story involves family scheming, rainwater, denial, the Land of Lincoln and a stray cat—it's a good one.
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woo-hoo! In less than a week, I'll have wheels!
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Katemikkelsen: oh, when you go to Ikea, do NOT buy a Letten rolly-bathroom-cart-thingy
taaterdog: why is that
Katemikkelsen: because you might not be able to get it together after a really long day of putting things together
Katemikkelsen: and then you might freak out, stomp on it
Katemikkelsen: breaking it into tiny plastic pieces
Katemikkelsen: flying one into your dog's eye
Katemikkelsen: requiring a vet visit and an explanation
taaterdog: oh god, who could have predicted a trip to ikea would turn so tragic for poor Ruby
