Oops. Ouch. Dang.

Well, I just cut my hand...it feels pretty bad but coulda been a lot worse. I was digging around in my basement looking for a 10 key calculator that I could take to work. In a brainiac moment I pulled a very large and very heavy box down off the shelf full well knowing that I didn't have a landing destination for it. I half heartedly put my left hand underneath the box and when I caught the box the force of it pushed my hand down really hard on top of rusty metal snowman sign. Now I have an inch and a half gash across the top of my hand and it hurts like crap. But I realized almost instantly that it could have been way, way worse and I could be sitting at the emergency room getting stitches rather than whining on my blog.

Now I'm at that point when you cut or burn yourself and you have to decide if it is going to be too painful to get into the shower. I'll have to check my hair again in the mirror to decide.

And after all that I still didn't find my adding machine. So much for doing a good deed (I was gonna loan it to a co-worker).

Since my photography skills are not what they should/could be I can't photograph my hand so instead I have attached the cutest picture ever of Corgi girl Twinky lately. She was laying on my bed unattended and after thoroughly cleaning out my take out salad container decided to take a comfy snooze on top of the pillows. Cutie patootie!

My life as a beauty pageant contestant.

I am laying here in bed flipping through TV stations and just watched Mario Lopez crown Miss Teen U.S.A. The chick from Colorado won. She already looks older than me.

I found it interesting and seemingly inappropriate that the backdrop on the stage was a giant comic book drawing of a woman's face with a dialogue bubble that said "OMG!"

Miss Teen Colorado started crying immediately and her father jumped up in the audience pointing to his sign promoting his daughter. No doubt he is a very proud man.

When I was a very little girl I once joined hundreds of other little girls in a tryout to become the Junior Rose Festival princess. As shocking as it may sound I made it past the first round of disqualifications. I think all we had to do was walk up to the microphone and state our name.

I remember the dress I was wearing (a hideous pea green floor length nightmare) and I remember the answer I gave during the second round when we were asked if we could invite anyone to dinner who would it be and what would we serve.

My answer was that I would invite the Easter bunny and serve ham and corn. The audience laughed and I didn't know why.

Daily Observations

The thing I like about blogging is having a place to record random thoughts.

Today I took a different bus route home from work in order to stop by "the grocery" (as my friend Maggie would say). On the #8 bus going down 15th I passed an area of town near the last apartment I lived in before buying my house. Instantly I was filled with nostalgia of walks through the neighborhood with my old Lab, Abbey.

By that time Abbey was fairly old (she died when she was 15, a few years later) and didn't do a whole lot of things that surprised me. I got her when she was just weeks old and thought I had seen her do all that I would ever see. Well, one morning while we were goofing around in a school yard I hid behind a giant container (the type used to haul stuff behind a semi or on a train or tanker in the ocean) and when she had lost sight of me I would jump out and surprise her. After a few mornings of doing this, Abbey not only caught on but actually fooled me by turning around the opposite way and surprising me from behind. It was so adorable and clever and unsuspected it made me laugh out loud. Turns out that not only can you teach an old dog a new trick...perhaps your old dog can teach you one.

On 15th and Fremont I got off the bus to go into Wild Oats which is located right next to a branch of Planned Parenthood. On the sidewalk there were a handful of people standing with huge signs stating that "Planned Parenthood kills babies"
as well as huge pictures of tiny fetuses. I had a multitude of emotions with this. It was the second protest I had walked by today (the first was downtown on my lunch break at the University Club regarding Tibet). Unlike the protest downtown, these activists didn't say a word. They had video cameras but I was fairly certain they weren't filming at the time. I didn't say anything to them but thought to myself a few things.

First was that I have a neighbor who works for Planned Parenthood. Her and her partner have two children whom they love and spend a great deal of time with. Therefore, the idea that Planned Parenthood somehow was harming children didn't fit for me. Additionally I was reminded that Planned Parenthood does not offer tubal ligations for women. Men can get sterilized there but women can't because the procedure actually involves general anesthesia (although I can personally vouch for the fact that it is a super simple surgery). Therefore I thought, well, that whole thought got me going on a lot of issues. For instance, many (well, most I think) hospitals are owned and operated by churches which do not allow for sterilizations. In fact when I got my tubes tied (by Kaiser for a $5 co-pay ten years ago) the doctor had difficulty scheduling it as they were leasing space from hospitals that did not allow them to perform tubal ligations there...which triggered me to thinking about the lack of accessibility to birth control, blah blah blah. I just don't think focusing on abortion is the best approach to helping babies. Preventing unwanted babies strikes me as the more useful approach. Of course I also thought that war kills a lot more babies than abortion and that unless the protesters were vegans they were responsible for a lot of death. Of course I didn't say anything to them...I have stood on a street corner with a protest sign way too much to ridicule anyone for standing up for what they believe in. Mostly I just wanted to document how one activity triggers thoughts.

My third observation is still cracking me up and perhaps is a good way to end this post on a less serious note. As I was looking out the window of the bus riding down Fremont street I noticed that there is a bus stop in the middle of a block right in front of a very large cemetery. No houses on either side of the stop for at least a block (on one side it is more than two blocks). Um, who is gonna catch the bus there?

Hipster Nascar

This Saturday hosts one of my very favorite things in Portland. It's the annual Mt. Tabor Soap Box Derby and you shouldn't miss it. That is, unless you are a lame, buzz killing, rain on the parade kinda folk. If you are, don't go.

I'll admit it did get a little mainstream and been there/done that for awhile but as of last year, the charm was back baby, back!

Greg, ya comin' down for it?

Dollars for Darlings

Okay, that is a cheesy headline but as you all should be painfully aware I am a cat lady more than I am anything else. Well, I'm pleased to say that my employer has a program for employee giving that I'm thrilled with and I might add that it feels really weird to be proud of a corporation. My work will match every dollar you contribute to a non-profit, dollar for dollar, up to $10,000 (per employee)! Mind you I don't have $10,000 to contribute but I can certainly afford something each check and through this program the charity of my choice will receive twice the amount. Now of course I realize that I work for an insurance/financial investing company and the money they are using to provide this benefit was not made in the most ethical and utopian of manner, but heh, good deeds are good deeds, at least to some degree and they don't have to be doing anything so I'm gonna give 'em props.

The charity I chose has been a long standing local favorite of mine, The Cat Adoption Team (C.A.T.). CAT is a no-kill shelter meaning that they don't euthanize healthy animals just because they are homeless (my theory is we need to stop killing dogs and cats just because they don't have homes...they should be lining the street corners with cages to help get them adopted and forcing sterilization of all domestic pets--yes, I know that would put an end to the careers of all the people who profit off of breeding animals and no that doesn't bother me). Behind closed doors quietly putting to sleep thousands and thousands of animals just because they don't have homes is not acceptable to me but I won't lecture you too much here.

I'd just like to suggest to all of you to pick a charity and donate to it. If you work for a non-profit (as I know many of you do) you can certainly attest to the importance of contributions but we can all spare a few bucks each payday. Making it a big event like my employer does (we have a two week period where they have tons of opportunities to give...raffles, games, donations so you can wear jeans, etc) is a fantastic way to do it but if you don't work for a big company like I do you can still give.

The non-profit you chose will appreciate it.

By the way, yes, I used a picture of my dog Twinky instead of one of my cats...she was feeling under represented and yes, she is a purebred. Twinky however was adopted from a rescue group...I didn't buy her from a breeder.

Budget Decorating

For the most part I'm pretty happy with how my house is decorated. One of the keys to budget decorating however is to make due with what you have until something better is attainable.

I don't have a fancy stereo (just a crappy old boom box that I got secondhand probably 15 years ago) and it is impossible to decorate with that thing. No matter how attractive the table or shelf that I put it on it looks like late 80's college style, which is not the look I'm going for.

Well, today I had one of those decorating epiphanies that can turn just an ordinary weekend into a fabulous weekend (don't worry, I'm just goofing...it isn't THAT significant).

Anyhow, I took a $5 cabinet that I got at Goodwill, took off the door, painted it with a can of paint I got at Fred Meyer for $.03 (yes three cents) and whalah, I have a new cd/book cabinet in my living room placed where a table that I got for free once lived with my stereo on it. I'm so much happier not having that stupid boom box gathering dust now.

So, you ask...what did you do with the stereo? Isn't it just being ugly in another part of your house? Why yes, it is. Under the bed though so I don't care. Yep, under the vintage twin metal bed that I use as a day bed/couch in my living room. The controls are surprisingly easy to reach so I can still use it and now I have a technology free living room (the tv was banished to the bedroom months ago because you definitely can't decorate with a tv in a house the size of mine.

Family

My mom is 67 years old and not in very good health. Her current issue is a cyaic nerve being pinched in her back that is creating an overwhelming sense of pain from her hip down to her knee. I once suffered with the same issue so I know how much she is in pain. When I was going through my back issues I was in so much pain I had to go to the emergency room several times trying to get some pain relief. Not much works. Weekend before last my mom called me at 4:45 a.m. Sunday morning crying hysterically because she couldn't stand the pain any longer. I stood next to her bed in the emergency room as she screamed in pain begging for them to "put her out" because she was in so much pain. For an hour and a half they tried to start an IV in her arm but after nearly 50 years of smoking her veins are just too hard and resistant to get a needle successfully inserted. (I'm sorry folks, but if you are a smoker do your family a favor and stop now). They eventually gave her an injection of morphine and it alleviated the pain enough for her to walk for most of the rest of the day but it didn't take long for the pain to begin again.

My brothers and I are in the process of trying to sell her condo and have moved her into a retirement community less than a mile from my house (as I am the only daughter in the family--with three brothers--I am the main caretaker of course). The new place isn't an assisted living facility just a fancy (and frankly really nice) apartment complex for seniors. All of this is forcing my family to interact with each other and it isn't going well. Funny, just because you are older and have all moved away from each other doesn't mean that the dynamics change. Therefore, in addition to dealing with my mom's health and move I am having to relive many emotions from my childhood which was not a pleasant time in my life. I hadn't been able to get in touch with my mom all last week and knew my brother's had physically moved some of her furniture and her to the new place so I visited her on Friday.

Turns out my mom had been left without a phone for an entire week which meant no communication with anyone including her doctor. She couldn't get online which meant she couldn't pay her bills, view her bank account, answer emails or order her medications to be mail delivered. When I went on Friday she didn't have any groceries, had only one of her heart pills left (she had a heart attack a few years ago and now has a stint in her heart and yet she keeps smoking). Both of my brothers had left town for work and just left her there either assuming that I was gonna take care of everything or that my mom would somehow take care of herself (which she refuses to do). Not only do I get left with the day to day care taking, I get zero respect or recognition for it (from my brothers, much less my mom).

My point in all of this is that I spent the entire weekend moving boxes, unpacking boxes, doing laundry, washing dishes, cleaning, lifting, shopping, chauffeuring, cooking, sorting through papers, entertaining and providing moral support to my mother (not to mention giving her my cell phone so she can have access to the outside world). While I wouldn't mind doing that once in awhile (she is my mother by the way) I can't stand the fact that it is just assumed by my family I will do it (or frankly mostly assumed that my mother does it herself and that I don't do anything). I was completely disregard by one brother, lied to by another (the third doesn't talk to either of my parents), yelled at by my dad (who my mom divorced 24 years ago and nobody requested play a role at all). I hate the drama. My role in our family for so many years was the scapegoat, the drop out, the radical left winged ignorant liberal (my family is all very homophobic, racist, conservative and --other than my brother who has an engineering Master's degree from Stanford-- uneducated). I am an outsider and it is clear that my assumed role hasn't changed even now that I am an adult.

Needless to say my weekend is over, my dishes aren't done, my laundry isn't done, my papers haven't been sorted, my back is now killing me and I am an emotional wreck from being manipulated, yelled at and misunderstood all weekend, just in time to go to work for one of the busiest days of the month. Ugh. For those of you that have cohesive families please appreciate the heck out of it because those of us who have a big, fat wreck of a family that only deals with each other in emergency situations (that God, I couldn't handle much more) are more envious than you know.

The Temp

We have this temp at work that is driving me nuts. He is a nice enough guy but has no business working in our department. He has somehow managed to take a project that I used to work on at most a few hours a week and turn it into a full time job for the past 9 months. He takes leisurely long breaks and lunch hours, he leaves early to go to class, he spends the majority of his work time on the internet (even going as far as having his Yahoo account open on his desktop throughout the day. Other than an occasional email to a supervisor, this temp really has no reason to be on the computer at all. I've pointed out to him numerous times that our company monitors internet usage so if he was indeed trying to get hired on as a permanent employee (in a different department) it might be good idea to quit being on the internet so much. When that approach didn't work I finally took the guy aside and told him he was really ticking the rest of our department off because the money paying his salary was coming out of our department budget and the rest of us were working our butts off because my supervisor didn't want to spend money on another employee yet we were essentially subsidizing this guy's social life. That didn't work either. He was self absorbed and I think just didn't even realize that what he was doing was so out of line for the work place (the only real job he has had previously was working in a mail room). I know you are asking yourself why wasn't your supervisor doing anything? Well, you know how some people have blinders on because they don't want to see the truth? That scenario is alive and well here. She doesn't chose to recognize that he doesn't know how to use a 10-key calculator, that he stammers on the phone to the point of complete ineffectiveness while trying to relay company policies to employees, that he is always the first one to know if Lindsay was arrested again or if the highway is closed, if he takes a 30 minute 15 minute break, etc.

Well, the other day, while the temp was gone on his break or lunch or whatever...since he does very little while he is there we don't always notice when he is gone, a "tech" guy stormed into our office asking my supervisor which computer was #562281 or something like that. She pointed to our temps computer and the IT guy unplugged it and make this big fuss about nobody logging in as their was a virus and security risk, blah blah blah (remember that I work for a publicly traded company and the confidentially of information is of highest importance). The guy was gone just as fast as he had come in and my boss and I were left reliving the scenario which simulated the scenes in the movie Brazil (my favorite movie by the way) where the government broke into the family home, abducted an innocent father and then disappeared again.

Why am I telling you this? Well, because of that virus my boss has now placed a strict no personal email accounts policy on each of us in our department. No Yahoo, no Gmail, you name it. I can still shop on eBay and beat to death my Google skills but those privileges are no doubt short lived. All because of this damn temp who never should have been working for our department in the first place. He is probably feeling it most of all at this point (funny, now he doesn't have any work to do and has a hard time pretending that he does). So I continually walk by his desk, refuse to make eye contact and point out that his inbox is empty (yeah, I'm a bitch to him but the dude has totally worn out his welcome). Problem is, one of these days he will walk out of these doors to another job and (hopefully) I'll be at this same job for years. His self-centeredness has cost me a significant benefit of my job (with dial up at home it was so refreshing to be able to look at photos, etc while on my lunch at work).

At a previous job (where we didn't have any internet access) I pointed out to the owner of the company that in this day and age it isn't realistic not to offer internet services for your employees. It is like a phone. It's just a sign of the times. In order to attract and keep good employees you need to offer them that tool. That tool is gone from me and I am oh so sad.

Ads of the '80s

Do any of you remember Slurpee rock cups? For those of you that don't, they were part of a fantastically successful ad campaign in the early 80's that had a tag line of "7-11's got Slurpee rock cups!"

For some reason I find myself singing that ad line over and over at various times. It just pops into my head. I really have no idea why. Anyhow, I randomly chose to Google it. I Google everything. It's an obsession. I'm a Googlist. Well, it turns out I'm not the only one who sings it. When I Googled the phrase "Slurpee rock cups" the first half dozen results were people writing about how they sing that phrase over and over and don't know why.

Is there some ratio to how many you purchased somehow effecting how much you think of the ad? Obviously that could have something to do with it. I purchased a lot of Slurpees (in fact I still love them). In high school it was common practice for us to go to 7-11 after soccer practice and get either a Slurpee or a Big Gulp...or in the times of daily double practices we would get both.

Slurpee rock cups had little round flicker sticker pog type items inserted into a false pocket on the bottom of each cup. Each pog advertised a particular band. Looking back now I realize that at least some of the bands must have been fairly indie types as R.E.M. was the one I remember particularly and was my favorite band back in the day (and still one today). Well, in the early 80s nobody knew who R.E.M. was. In fact I saw them for the first time in '83 at the Schnitzer and the place was so empty many people didn't have anyone in the seats next to them. I got a fantastic shirt at that concert (my favorite ever) and wore it non-stop the next year at the University of Oregon and people would often ask me who that was. My point being that 7-11 having that band on a card in one of their Slurpee drinks now seems fairly inconceivable.

I remember that card because I still had it up until a year or so ago. A rather annoying student named Mike Wilson who did the ad sales for the school paper signed my yearbook (I dated the editor of the school paper my Senior year so I hung around in the press room a lot) with an exceeding graphic drawing of a frog being seduced by a human (ah, hormones). To cover up the gross image I took my R.E.M. Slurpee rock cup card and stuck it directly over the frog. The sticker stayed there until I decided to sell it on eBay when I sold the rest of my R.E.M. fan club newsletters and collectibles. It didn't go for a lot, maybe $5.00 or so and I kinda wish I still had it (if nothing else to continue to cover the damn frog picture).

Nevertheless, even just yesterday I caught myself singing "7-11's got Slurpee rock cups!" and I still can't figure out why.

The 7th book.

Last night I finished the seventh book. Not the 7th book that most of you are talking about (the last Harry Potter). Instead it was my seventh novel by Douglas Coupland. This last one was Eleanor Rigby and is probably my favorite so far (I have the new one, the first one and Miss Wyoming still left to read). Mr. Coupland tells kind of bizarre stories but uses such great characters that I can't help but be curiously fascinated at their adventures. Eleanor Rigby was written from the perspective of an overweight, middle aged woman and I never would have guessed that the author was male. Normally I prefer to read women writers but this past year I have pretty much only read books written by men.

I've nearly exhausted the library of David Sedaris and now that my Coupland pickings are few and far between (I generally only read used copies that I find at a good price so I'm not entirely in control of my reading shelf) I have switched my attention to Nick Hornby (High Fidelity, About a Boy, etc.). I mainly only read on the bus so whatever I read has to be the type of book that you are instantly enthralled with or it would be too hard to motivate myself to read rather than blindly stare out the window (an underrated activity I'll have you know). As my friend Greg says, "Oh, Sedaris is perfect for the bus! Except everyone will wonder why you are laughing out loud." Exactly. Coupland was also good on the bus because it easily allowed me to tune everyone else out (which frankly if you have ridden the #12 bus lately you will know what I mean). The only book I have read by Hornby so far is How to be Good which I loved and being how much I adored the movie High Fidelity (and not just because of John Cusack and Jack Black) and enjoyed the movie About a Boy, I have high hopes for the one I started today, A Long Way Down.

The feline Kevorkian

Check this out.

Long time no blog.

Yep, I haven't written in awhile. Frankly I just haven't been in the mood. So, just to keep your attention I figured I'd take the last few minutes of my break at work to update some stuff.

Barry White, the stray cat has been making several daily visits, is eating about 1.5 cans of expensive organic cat food a day, starting to "talk" to me a bit but his voice doesn't really let meows out very well (I suspect he is out of the habit of doing much other than hissing). He looks as thin and scruffy as I've ever seen a cat look. I'm a bit taxed money wise but once I have the funds he'll be going in as I doubt he'll make it through the winter without an intervention.

The torso mannequin or whatever it was on my neighbor's porch that spooked me so much has never appeared again so I don't know the answer to that mystery. I did however see a person at the neighborhood park the other day who was quite petite and the only limb she had was one leg which made me wonder...

I believe I've only eaten out twice since my last vegan disappointment. One was at an entirely vegetarian restaurant where I asked about each item on my plate specifically and the second was at Baja Fresh where I feel relatively confident their ingredients are as they state. By the way, a rice/beans plate with a side of Pronto guacamole will get you way more food then you need for under $4!

My friend Darren is still in the Sheridan Federal Detention Center waiting to be "classified" and moved to his final destination (of which is still a mystery). He can't have any visitors other than family (who all live in Canada) but his spirits are pretty high because he now has a full size toothbrush, a full size pencil, an ink pen, shoes other than plastic slippers, cotton gym shorts, etc. These are all things he has gone without since December 2005 when he was first arrested. Interestingly enough he is also locked in a cell 23 hours of the day with one of his co-accused, a guy that he has known for 12 years. Jails, they are mean and they are strangely generous. Go figure.

Well, my break is over. I'll see about a real post, real soon.

This is my scorned vegan entry of the day.

I didn't manage my time well enough this morning to make lunch. That and my kitchen is so trashed right now that the health inspector would totally shut me down if they saw it. Normally I make my lunch everyday. It's cheaper, healthier and helps me eat all of those darn veggies I get delivered.

However, since I didn't make lunch today I decided to order a pizza from a cafe right around the corner called Oliver Twisted. I should have gone to Veganopolis but I was being lazy (it's a bit of a walk there and back in my short half hour break time). At the very least I should have just walked to Safeway and bought something processed. But instead I figured I'd buck up, buy a pizza and have leftovers for tomorrow's lunch.

I called ahead so it would be ready when I got there and I waited around in the lobby while the seemingly useless staff did everything other than actually help me. I listened to the employee who was supposedly helping me train a new employee on how to include tips in the jar when people pay with credit cards. I paid for my pizza and went back to my cube. Mind you I have had a heck of a day at work at this time and just needed to eat my lunch in peace.

Guess what? The vegan pizza had non-vegan cheese on it. Doh! And guess what? By that time I didn't have enough time to go buy something else. Guess what I had for lunch? Pretzels from the vending machine. Whohoo!

Now some of you uninformed folks are thinking to yourself, "Well that's just stupid...the pizza is already made, just go ahead and eat it." That might work in theory (although I'd debate you on it) but the reality is if you don't eat dairy for twenty years you don't then decide to just jump in and do it again. I made that mistake once while at a wedding (and under the influence of much champagne) with a blackberry brie cheese concoction. Not a pretty picture.

Needless to say, folks on my floor were happy to get the email that a warm veggie pizza was lying unattended in the copy room.

And this makes the world a better place how?

Most of you know my friend Darren plead guilty to charges of eco-sabotage recently. His sentencing is for 37 months, which much has been served already as he was arrested in December of 2005 and has been in the jail system ever since. After his sentencing he was sent back to the Multnomah County Inverness Jail where I have visited him weekly since shortly after his arrest.

The Friday before last I went to the jail for a visit as was normal routine only to find that Darren was no longer there. All the guard could tell me was that the U.S. Marshals had taken him the day before. He didn't know exactly where he was taken, but figured it was to the federal prison in Sheridan, Oregon. (This was later confirmed through an "inmate locator" on the Bureau of Prisoners website). Now we figured that he would be taken there eventually but of course had no warning whatsoever. No goodbyes, just gone. It is a strange and abrupt end to a friendship that was rekindled after ten years of separation. I left the jail with a sense of loss and worry. At least seeing Darren on a weekly basis I had some sort of indication that he was okay...I knew where he was, I could visibly see that he was physically okay, I could get some insight into whether or not he was holding up.

Now Darren is gone into the federal prison system. He seemingly has no contact with the outside world until he is "classified" and given access to a phone and/or visitors, which may take weeks. This is a tense time. Just the last time I visited Darren he told me that the guards at MCIJ had chosen to place in general population the obviously mentally ill man who had allowed his mother to lay on the living room floor for weeks in her own waste. They placed him with a group of inmates the night the man's story was running on the news. Needless to say, the man did not have a good nights sleep. By morning he was transferred out of general population with a gash in his forward and numerous other injuries. You can therefore understand why I am nervous for Darren's safety as he is now being housed in a federal prison.

It helps that Darren is quite streetwise (after years of living on the run underground and a few years in jail previously) and has some survival skills for living in the "inside." It also helps that when the inmates ask him what he is in prison for he can tell them that it is for conspiracy and releasing wild horses that the government had captured to put up for sale so that federal lands could be leased to farmers at a loss so that farmers can graze their cattle. Darren can also hand them a several page story from The Rolling Stone that inmates can read about his case. Darren's crime garners him a bit more respect in jail but of course none of them are completely safe. If nothing else, even if the inmates don't abuse him you can be sure that the guards aren't above taking action against him.

Therefore you can understand the eery feelilng I got when I came home last night to a box on my porch that held nothing other than the clothes Darren was arrested in...tennis shoes, jeans, a few long sleeve shirts and a jacket. No note, no explanation, just the clothes that have been sitting at the jail since December of 2005 and that he wore while being transferred to Sheridan. It is an uncomfortable feeling to have my friend taken away with no contact only to receive a box of his clothes in the mail. Shortly I will be asked to pick up Darren's personal items that the FBI confiscated from his apartment after they arrested him (laptops, phones, cds, video tapes, etc) that they no longer need for the prosecution. My friend is gone and in his place I have bags and bags of letters and mail he received while in jail, books he read (prisoners can only keep so many personal items with them), pictures he released to me so that I can mail them to him later once he has reached permanent residence somewhere and his clothes.

Meanwhile I am studying the twenty page guide of visiting prisoners in federal prison...you can embrace only twice and only for a brief moment, once when you first arrive, once as you leave. You can't wear shorts or skirts or revealing clothing of any kind. You have to agree to take random drug tests. You had to have contact with the prisoner prior to his incarceration and you have to have some sort of influence on his life once he is released.

The prison system is supposedly to protect the public from criminals and to help them learn to live within our system. I am witnessing first hand that all they do is expose the inmates to all sorts of ugly elements, place them in fear for their saftey and serve as a place to alienate people from the outside world, the people that most need to not be alienated. Jails and prisons are not making the world a better place.

What's this about not looking a gift horse in the mouth?

I once received a horse as a gift...September 1979 as a matter of fact. And that "gift" was part of my life through sometime in 2002 or so. In that time I looked my "gift" horse in the mouth more times than you can possibly imagine (I taught her to kiss which took quite a few views and then once she learned how to kiss, counting the number of times I looked at her mouth became impossible). Not to mention she also had tooth issues in her later years (I have a couple of her teeth by the way which is kinda gross I suppose) which required mouth viewing.

Why do I bring all this horse mouth stuff up? Well, I have another vegan rant. Sorry for dwelling on the same subject but hey it's too frickin' hot in this place these days and that just causes the pissiness to rise to the top like cream.

Yesterday was my birthday and I spent nearly the entire year looking forward to having my (cheesy stupid ceremonial and department wide hated) birthday gathering at work. The lucky one gets to pick their special choice of dessert and we all stand around and watch each other eat until one of the bigwigs says we can leave. It always sucks for me because with the exception of when people choose fruit I can't eat the stuff anyhow (because it isn't vegan) so I just stand there stupidly and watch them eat. Well yesterday was supposed to be the day that everyone was going to eat a great, award winning chocolate three layer cake from Piece of Cake bakery in Westmoreland. Didn't happen quite that way.

Turns out my boss (or I suspect maybe her boss) decided that most people probably wouldn't like eating a vegan cake so they got me a condensed version of the cake I had suggested(single layer small which made it look like a brownie) and ordered a giant non-vegan cake for everyone else (not to mention the cake they ordered actually comes in a vegan variety but they got the kind with eggs and dairy instead). Now, a better person than I wouldn't have had their nose out of joint like I did but I'm not that better person. I'm vegan because I think it is wrong to eat animals as well as eat things that come out of animals (such as milk and eggs). To be frank it pisses me off that on my birthday people chose to celebrate with a non-vegan cake just because they are too veganphobic (I just came up with that word yesterday and you can bet I'll be using it a lot) to buck up and eat a vegan cake for one day out of the year. Never do they refuse to eat the vegan donuts I bring in fairly often from VooDoo Donuts and Might-O Donuts from Seattle. They all love the vegan banana muffins I bring in for them. But oh no, on my birthday they give me this condensed version of the cake I asked for (making it look like something cooked in an Easy Bake oven) and themselves eat this hugely stacked cake for themselves. Urgh.

Okay rant over. I was never gonna make it without posting how pissed I was. Combine my offense at animal products being used to celebrate my birthday with the fact that they never consider that I can't eat their celebratory feasts every other birthday and needless to say I was offended.

The day wasn't a complete bust though...while I didn't win, or even come close to winning, and I nearly died from the smoke, I did have a very enjoyable and air conditioned evening at the local bingo hall!

Your next number is in the monitor...this ain't your grandma's bingo!

Oh, by the way, thank you tons to all of you who ordered art cards to support my quest to make a collage for every I have been on this planet...the orders went way over my request of 40. It's gonna take me awhile to get them all done (and I'll post when they've been sent) but I really appreciate everyone's support of my crazy idea!

Are you getting enough protein?

This is a question vegans get asked all the time. How do you get enough protein? Drives me nuts. Humans really don't need near as much protein as people generally think, in fact it would be difficult to eat a well rounded diet and not get enough protein.

I was out to dinner with my dad, his wife and her family tonight to celebrate her birthday (and sort of mine). Despite the fact that I have eaten meals a couple of times a year with these people for the past several years, somehow when we go out to eat the topic of my veganism always comes up.

Tonight I asked them if anyone ever asks them if they are eating a nutritionally balanced diet. Of course not. Nobody ever mentions to carnivores that they should be concerned about what they eat but take an herbivore approach to eating and all of a sudden people are so concerned about your health.

The funny thing tonight was that this conversation was happening right when the waitress brought out our food. Above is what I was having for dinner. Below is what my dad ate. I pointed out the differences and asked the table, "Now who are you worried about?"

Barry White Update Part 2

This afternoon I was outside watering some plants when a woman drove up in her car and got out. I figured she was one of my local eBay customers come to pick up some Fisher Price Little People but she said that she wanted to talk to me about Jasper.

Turns out the cat that is Barry White to me is Jasper to the woman who lives on the next block.

This woman had been talking to some neighbors who have been feeding Barry White for several years and have recently sold their house. When she inquired what was going to happen to the stray cat they said that they knew that I had been feeding him recently as well.

I learned a little more history about him...he used to belong to people who lived a few houses down my street and was left behind many years ago when they moved. Since then he has been on his own, beg, borrowing and stealing from kind hearted folks in the neighborhood. It is so absolutely amazing he has survived this long.

Anyhow, this woman has fed him on and off for years as well and just wanted to touch base with me to make sure that he is going to be taken care of. I told her that I intended on catching him and taking him to the vet to be treated for his upper respiratory infection and that I intend on caring for him. She offered to let me borrow a trap that she has to catch him and left me with her name and phone number.

This morning I looked out my bedroom window and saw him sleeping in the bushes in my backyard and was so sorry he wasn't able to curl up on the bed with me and the other critters. Knowing that he once had a family to call home and was eventually just abandoned is so sad. But now I'm hopeful that maybe one day I'll actually be able to befriend him even more and remind him how wonderful it can be to have a person who cares for you.

I don't think I'm crazy.

So I had probably one of the most creepy experiences of my life yesterday and I haven't recovered from it yet. I'll let you all in on the scenario only if you promise not to laugh at me.

I was walking to the bus stop and went down a street I nearly always use. As I approached this one house I noticed what appeared to be a mannequin torso on the porch. The house is a little dumpy and you don't see mannequins in my current neighborhood like I did back when I lived in the Hawthorne neighborhood but it isn't that bizarre, this is Portland after all.

Anyhow I was staring quite intensively at the mannequin, one because I hadn't seen it before, two because it was the day after 4th of July and everything was covered in burnt explosive materials and three because there was also a black cat on the porch. As I continued walking down the sidewalk it felt like the mannequins eyes were following me. I thought to myself, "Hmmm, this is like those paintings where the eyes seem to be looking at you no matter where you are standing." I kept staring because it was so captivating.

However, just as I was about to pass the house the torso smiled at me. The hairs on my body immediately stood up and a chill went through my body. Out of nervousness or dutiful politeness or whatever I smiled back and kept on walking.

As I continued down the block I was so disturbed and confused and frightened. Was I nuts thinking it smiled at me? Was it a mannequin or was it actually a human? I didn't see any legs, there was no place the legs could have been unless the person was standing up through the porch. And what about the arms. Okay, frankly I'm still creeped out by this.

When I got into work yesterday I told a few of my co-workers (only the ones that know I'm not nuts) and they could see how spooked I was and they got creeped out as well. This morning one of them came to me first thing and asked what it turned out to be.

I haven't gone by the house again. After work yesterday I went to water aerobics and came home on a different bus and today I walked down a different street because I was afraid of what I might see.

Tomorrow I plan on driving by with someone else in the car to witness it.

Trust me, I'm not one to imagine things. I'm really not.

His and Hers

Several of you have asked for an update about Barry White, the stray cat I've tried to befriend and catch to take him to the vet. No luck. I failed catching him one afternoon (3 times) and now he really won't let me get near him. Last night I came home and he was on my back deck and let me walk around him and he even sort of meows at me (not a whole lot comes out) but I have had to begin the process of gaining his trust all over again.

He is really skinny but I don't know how much of that is years without proper food, worms or other health issues or just "old cat body." As many of you no doubt know, when cats age they eventually slim down naturally, sometimes to such a state that it can be quite noticeable. My cat Max for instance (who is 15 years old) is really quite bony (not very pleasant to pet) but he is so fluffy you hardly notice it without touching him.

The plan with Barry White now is to contact the Feral Cat Coalition and borrow a trap that is spring loaded so I don't even have to be present. FCC's resources are precious so I am hoping to not to have to resort to them for the medical procedures (they are pretty much a spay/neuter/release program anyhow), but their advice regarding catching Mr. Barry White I am sure will be valuable.

Starlight by candlelight.

Saturday night my friends Greg, Dixie and I went to see a lounge act. The last time the three of us did that together was seeing Richard Cheese in Vegas a few years back (Greg and I have seen Mr. Cheese again at Dante's since then but being that I wasn't drinking or sitting I've determined it wasn't technically a lounge act). Yesterday's lounge act was actually right here in my neighborhood however, at Tony Starlight's Supper Club on 37th and Sandy Blvd.

I saw Tony perform many a time at the now defunct Club 1201 many years ago. During his prior performances I saw Tony mock dead grunge stars and classic rockers while dressed like Frank Sinatra in a velvet smoking jacket with a microphone in one hand and a martini in the other. Tony has an amazing ability to imitate voices and writes hysterical new lyrics for songs we all know. At Saturday's show for instance we heard his impression of Dave Matthews singing a promotional ad for Big K and an entire tribute to Neil Diamond and Christopher Cross. Tony is backed by a three piece jazz band (with a piano player that is the spitting image of Chris O'Donnell) that provide musical interludes while Tony changes clothing preparing for a routine as another washed up performer.

Not only will you find yourself entertained by the performances at the supper club, you will be impressed with what Tony has done to the club. This particular corner of Sandy has seen many businesses: a strip club, a health food restaurant, a Mexican cafe and one of my all time favorite music spots, The Blackbird (which had the best vegan buffalo wings a girl could wish for). It has long been troubled by a lack of parking (although Mr. Starlight has shown his business savvy by arranging for parking spaces in the Banfield Motel kitty corner from his club) and unrealistic business plans but I think Tony has created a viable contribution to the neighborhood. The transformation of a cold awkward interior into a swanky, vintage club is outstanding. The wait staff are fantastic, the garlic fries were yummy, the drinks were great, the prices reasonable.

I have nothing bad to say about this place. I was excited to visit, pleasantly surprised and can't wait to return.

Treat yourself to a visit at Tony Starlight's Supper Club. Take friends and coworkers, laugh, drink, sing along and help make sure the place survives.