You loser! That was out!

I went and played kickball last night with my friend’s team. There’s actually a league in this town founded by a lacrosse teammate of mine. It’s incredible. Imagine a bunch of twenty- and thirtysomethings playing a game most haven’t participated in since grade school. Then imagine lots of PBR being drank at these games and it is not your parents’ kickball game. The best part is that last winter, it even spawned a dodgeball league. Talk about your pent-up aggression release. It must be awesome.

Ch-check it out.

Quote of the day: “I only have two questions: #1)What kind of loser would want to play adult kickball and #2)Where do I sign up?” Craig Kilborn, The Late Late Show

Why I need to buy headphones

The most obnoxious thing happened to me on the bus on Monday morning. I got off the MAX to go catch my connecting bus and ran into this girl who also works on the Hill as well as volunteers at Our House. She thinks that we are better friends than we are and I’m OK with her believing that as long as I don’t have to do anything, like hang out with her. Either way, we start chatting and get on the bus. We sat down together and chatted some more before she noticed my bracelet.

For the past few weeks, I’ve been wearing a bright yellow Live Strong bracelet. My roommate gave it to me, and since every cent of the proceeds benefit Lance Armstrong’s cancer foundation, I feel pretty good about wearing it.

Now, this girl glanced at my bracelet and said, “Oh, you’re wearing one of those.” I looked at what she was pointing at and said, “Yeah, it’s great.”

“Well, my friend and I looked into that and decided that we couldn’t support it since Lance Armstrong is just a big cheater.” She settled back with a little self-satisfied smirk on her face.

Mind you, it is 7:30am on a Monday morning. I am lucky that I am wearing clothing that matches and covers my entire body at this point. I am nowhere near a coherence place where I want to start aggressively debating drug testing and guilt. I just sort of looked at her, tilted my head sideways and said, “I am so not going to talk about this.”

She got this patronizing look on her face and said, “Oh, is this something you get emotional about?”

I stared back in disbelief and just said, “No, but I do believe that we are talking about a five-time Tour de France champion who happens to be the single most frequently tested athlete on the planet.”

“Well, all I’m saying is that he’s a cheater.”

“Well, you can believe whatever you want, but I’m still not going to talk about this right now.” She finally started jabbering on about her ex, who was obsessed with bike racing and all this other stuff, so I sort of tuned her out and nodded the rest of the bus ride.

All I really wanted to do was get on the bus, sit down and finish The Da Vinci Code. What was wrong with that?!?

Quote of the Day: “I wanna say a little something that I hold to be true/The disrespecting women has got to be through/To all the mothers and the sisters and the wives and friends/I want nothing but love and respect till the end.” Sure Shot, Beastie Boys

You're always up to no good

Well, in a rapid and rather convenient twist of fate, I now have a new place and brand new roommates to boot. My mother always said that the girls in our family tend to land on their feet. I always thought she just meant my sister, but it appears to go for me as well.

Anyway, I decided to hit Craig’s List to see if I could score a new place and it actually worked. I am now going to move in with two strangers, but we seem to get along ridiculously well. On Sunday night, I went over there to check out the place and meet the roomies. Steamboat showed me around the place and then we sat around on the couch and talked for an hour until Strong Draught showed up and then sat around talking for the next half hour. Indeed, we talked quite a bit and had a good time and I ended up getting offered the new roommate spot.

Tintin and I went out for beers last night to discuss her impending move and to hear the whole story as to how Chicago Artist Boy asked her to move. She was so worried that I would be upset or disappointed when in reality, I would have been much more upset/disappointed if she hadn’t decided to go when she did. Besides, she and CAB need to figure out where this relationship can go when they are in the same city. Long distance over long periods of time blows.

Last night was also Steamboat’s birthday, so all three new roomies went to the Lompoc for beers and sat around hanging out. I think we are going to be ridiculously compatible roommates. I even filled out the ginormous application sheet today stating that I am not a bad person and that I can afford the rent. No really, I swear!! There was a little line on the application asking why I am moving out of my current place. I wrote that I wanted to change neighborhoods, which is true, but not entirely true. I want to be in a place where my roommates and I are at the same place. The Couple is very much in nesting mode and they put a lot of time and energy into the house. I respect that immensely, but I don’t feel that sort of motivation or inspiration as it isn’t my house and I feel no ownership towards it. Thus, I have a hard time getting excited about paint chips. I’m more than happy to put my two cents in regarding tile colors, but when it comes to sanding, grouting, and dirty work, I’m also more than happy to retire to the couch to watch MTV.

It’s going to be so great to get into a place with a lot of energy and no construction. I live in an awesome house right now, but the construction gets a little old. I do not have any idea how The Couple have the endless energy to continue with all of the projects. I know I wouldn’t have followed through the way that they have. It’s awe-inspiring, really

Quote of the Day: By the time they started showing up, I ran the risk of blowing up/These times, these times get tough/So if I stay we're going to see who's had enough/By the time I needed backing up, ya he was watching, cracking up.” Big Brat, Phantom Planet

Stress! It's not just for breakfast anymore.

Once again, I've managed to plan myself into a corner. Sweet. I've just discovered that I actually have every single weekend from now until mid-August booked, which really takes the fun out of things like impromptu keg parties at friend's apartments or random concerts on Saturday nights.

Don't get me wrong. I like nothing better than to have a full schedule and a full dance card. However, I really need to learn the value of the word "no." I have no concept of what that means, more often than not. For example, this weekend I am headed out to town tonight to attend the Surfrider retreat. I plan to go to meetings most of tomorrow and then surf for a few hours before retiring to Chitown's beach house for a party. Then I drive back to Portland at 0'Dark Thirty Sunday so that I can go to the CART race with Mom, Dad, and Speedy. Mind you, this is all stuff I want to do, so this isn't really complaining so much as grousing that I wish everything weren't scheduled for the same damned weekend so that I could actually attend things and relax rather than spending half of my week recovering from my weekend.

Plus, I'm now stressing about moving as well. Again, part of me has convinced myself to move home for a few months and just let things relax, but the other half has emailed two prospective roommates about rooms for rent. Go figure. I know that things will work out the way that they are supposed to and hopefully that will become glaringly obvious.

I'm so glad that my life is never boring.

Quote of the Day: "Show me, show me, show me how you do that trick/the one that makes me scream she said/the one that makes me laugh she said/and threw her arms around my head." Just Like Heaven, The Cure

Never a dull moment

So, as it turns out, Tintin has made the decision to move to Chicago. I fully support her, as that was something she's been thinking about and we were only going to get a six-month lease anyway. However, it puts me in the interesting position of figuring out where the heck I am going to live now. Part of me wants to say "fuck it," and move home for a few months to save money while the other part wants to get a studio or something and scrape by. It's a very interesting time and makes me really fascinated to see what's going to happen.

My mom always told me that everything happens for a reason, so I'm really curious as to what the reason is for this. We shall see and it should be an adventure, as always.

Quote of the Day: "Curse missed opportunities/Am I part of the cure?/Or am I part of the disease?" Clocks, Coldplay

Lithium isn't just for Nirvana

Tintin and I spent the better part of Saturday morning looking for apartments and actually managed to find one that we didn’t hate, that didn’t smell like cat, that wasn’t on the first floor and that had more natural light than most professional darkrooms. So we agreed, called the landlord, and waited for a response. He called Tintin back yesterday and rather than try and make up the exchange, I’m just going to transcribe it as best I can as it really is so unbelievable that I cannot do it justice with exaggeration.

Tintin: Hello. My name is Tintin and I was interested in speaking with you about the upstairs apartment for rent in your building.
Landlord: Are you the one who lives up the street?
Tintin: Yes, that’s me.
Landlord: In the blue house next to the Strawberries?
Tintin: Yes, that’s the house I live in. Now, about the apartment, I was interested in renting that and wanted to talk to you about drawing up a rental agreement.
Landlord: Now, wait a minute. There’s been some domestic violence problems in that house. Just a few weeks ago the cops got called and there was a large woman in a cast out front yelling. Are you her? I don’t want anyone with domestic violence problems living in my building.
Tintin: (nervously), Um, I have no idea what you are talking about. We haven’t called the cops and there’s no woman with that description living here. So, about the apartment…
Landlord: (insistently) No, no, that happened a few weeks ago. I saw it. There was a lady in the street yelling at the top of her lungs about something and she had a cast. The cops were over there and told me it was a domestic violence disturbance.
Tintin: I have no idea what you are talking about. There is no large lady living here.
Landlord: You’re in the blue house, right? Who do you live with?
Tintin: My godmother.
Landlord: Is she a big woman with a cast?
Tintin: No, she’s tiny. Anyway, about the apartment…
Landlord: Is there anyone else living with you?
Tintin: No! It’s just the two of us and no one has called the cops! There has never been a domestic violence problem here! I have no idea what you are talking about.

Now there are several problems with this scenario to begin with. First of all, there is obviously no fat lady with a cast. There are also ostensibly no cops. And the guy is obviously in the wrong, but continues pressing on.

Landlord: I know what I saw. There were cops and a big lady in a cast.
Tintin: OK, was it on her arm or leg?
Landlord: I don’t remember anymore. It was a few weeks ago. Do you have a roommate? What’s her name? Where does she live?
Tintin: (hesitating), I’m not sure that’s any of your business, but her name is the Captain and she lives in NoPo.

Well, we aren’t even going into what I think of that whole scene, but whatever. It’s none of his business and I’m not even sure it’s legal to ask. Whatever.

Landlord: Well, I’m going to have to get a background check because I don’t want any violence or criminals living in my building. I think you’re not telling me something.
Tintin: OK, fine.

She hangs up and proceeds to call her neighbor to see if she knows what’s going on. Turns out, the neighbor has a restraining order against her ex-husband and the cops come by once every few weeks since the ex has inevitable done something stupid and violated the order. So the neighbor offers to call the landlord and sort things out for him. She does, and ends up having much the same conversation that Tintin had with the landlord. It’s ludicrous. She calls Tintin back.

Tintin: So, how did it go?
Neighbor: Well, he’s an asshole. Everyone in that building complains about him.
Tintin: Oh, good. Did it get straightened out?
Neighbor: Well, I tried explaining and he kept insisting that it was your house. I told him that I email with your godmother every day, so he asked if I could have her email me telling me the whole story and then I would email him.
Tintin: Oh, good, so we’ve reverted to grade school.
Neighbor: It gets better. He fervently believes what he saw, so he doesn’t think that I really have a restraining order against my ex because he knows my ex and he would never do anything like that.
Tintin: Oh, God. OK, thanks for all of your help!

So the moral of this story is: It’s a good thing to find out if your potential landlord is batshit crazy before moving in.

Quote of the Day: “Ready? Let's roll onto something new/But heaven ain't close in a place like this/Anything goes but don't blink you might miss.” Somebody Told Me, The Killers

Oooh, oooh, pick me!

So I've discovered how to add pictures now. Scary concept. I promise not to abuse this ability, so if you really don't want me to put up any pictures of you, you have to be nice to me. Just kidding. I'm just using that pic as a sample. The rest will be put through a detailed vetting process to make sure that no one can be Googled and I get blamed for their failed political career.

Other than that, I had an awesome weekend last weekend and just now got the chance to commit it to blog. Marshall, Eeyore, TGWS, and Marshall's roommate Sassy and I all went up to our friends' cabin outside of Leavenworth for the weekend and had a blast. I will be the first to admit that I wasn't sure about how the weekend was going to go at first, but it became readily apparent that it was going to kick ass shortly after we left. The passengers in the car (not Marshall, the driver, who wisely abstained) on the way up managed to polish off the better part of an 18 pack of Rainier between Olympia and Gold Bar, Washington. Yeah, I've never heard of it either. We finally arrived at the compound around 10pm, thanks to Eeyore's inability to pay attention to time. It's all good though, as we happily piled out of the car, threw all of our gear into the loft and raided the kitchen. We made friends with the dogs first and then the people, who we were introduced to en masse, which made for interesting conversation starting. Fortunately, the fire was blazing, the beer coolers were stocked and the people who were already there were very friendly and particularly amenable to s'more sharing. Happy BBM was particularly spirited until she passed out on the floor. Eeyore and Sassy relocated her to the couch and she apparently revived shortly after we crashed out. Benny decided not to let her come wake us up. We ended up staying awake until somewhere near 1 am and made some new friends. Good times.

We slept in the next morning until the dogs got insistent and woke us up. We bonded with Happy for a few minutes as she had relocated downstairs from us after rallying off the couch. After that we straggled over to the kitchen in the main house where Marshall and I made ourselves some yummy mountain breakfast. After that, we all sort of laid around playing with the baby and eating before Marshall, TGWS, and I wandered down to the lake to chat and check it out. It was a lake full of fishing boats, but it looked like waterskiing and jetskis were banned, so that was kind of nice.

After we managed to gather a few girls together, and the golf crew came back, we rallied out to Twin Lakes to hike. We took two of the dogs with us and crammed 5 girls and both dogs into Marshall's car. It was particularly funny when one of the dogs decided she really wanted to bond with me and practically climbed into my lap shortly before we got to the trailhead. Either way, it was a great hike and we had a really nice time.

We got back the trailhead just before it started to rain, so we sat around and had a PBR before getting back in the car and heading back to camp. Happy had first dibs on the shower, so the rest of us watched the card game, read magazines or picked through the fridge. Finally after unsuccessfully fishing through the food for the third time, Marshall, Sassy and I broke for the store to buy breakfast materials, s'mores supplies and Gatorade. The first store was nothing more than a glorified gas station while the second had what we wanted, even though we had to ask where the eggs were. Good thing we didn't want any fresh fruit--we were SOL. Loaded down with sugar and breakfast, we wandered back to the cabin. We cycled through showers while Marshall and Sassy made brownies. It was also time to start drinking again, as everyone was rallying and clean, there was a full-fledged card game going and the fire pit had come alive. Sassy even took a beer into the shower with her. Also, the BBQ was raring to go with the marinated chicken and it smelled like heaven. Dinner was delicious, as were the salads and other sorts of things that got set out. The brownies were a total hit--go Marshall--and before we knew it, we were out throwing things in the fire. One of the gals was a total pyro and built up a huge fire. It was awesome. Before long the Jaeger came out and we were passing it around four of us at the campfire, typewriter style. Marshall started, handed it to TGWS, who handed it to me, and I handed it off to Ace, who handed it back to Marshall. Shortly after that, a rather spirited game of Asshole started in the kitchen, so we retired in there are dealt in. At one point, we had half the group crammed in around this teeny little table yelling "Drink!" at each other and throwing cards. Much PBR was consumed in short order, as we rotated positions and ordered more drinks. Eeyore and I got into an actualy shouting match over whether or not the President had to give the Asshole his or her worst cards or lowest cards. It's worst, for the record, but Eeyore insisted that wasn't the case. Loudly. Within six inches of my face. After the rest of the group determined that I was right, we all piled onto the floor to continue playing as the table had nearly given up the ghost, but it shortly deteriorated when BabyMom, Marshall and I tried to start a waterfall and nearly laughed so hard we wet ourselves. Marshall had her cheeks puffed out full of beer for nearly two minutes. I thought it was going to come out her nose. It was beautiful. Once the game broke up, a few people wandered back out to the fire, some went to bed and a few of us plotted to get Eeyore wasted. Which we accomplished, before wandering back out to the fire, where Sassy and I went into S'more mode. We made everyone around the fire s'mores before eating approximately half a dozen apiece. I toddled off to bed full of sugar. However, before I went to bed there needed to be a full-on wrestling match with Eeyore and TGWS where Eeyore lost most of his clothing and pictures were taken. Boobies got grabbed, rug burns were given and Eeyore clearly lost.

The next morning we were remarkably perky for the amount of drunken debauch from the night before, so we cooked, cleaned up our little loft and packed the car. Woody had Eeyore drive her truck home, so we didn't have to all squish into Marshall's car. Marshall, Sassy and I rode back in the Sub, while Eeyore and TGWS took the truck. We caravanned through Leavenworth and through a good chunk of central Washington before gliding onto the beautiful OR I-84 through the Gorge. Rock on.

Once we got home I got to go to dinner with my boss my senior year of college, who was in town visiting. It was totally fun, I didn't get much sleep and I've been coasting on exercise and adrenaline ever since. This week has kicked ass.

Quote of the Day: "But sister, you know I'm weary/and you know sister/My heart's been broken/Sometimes, sometimes/My mind is too strong to carry on/Too strong to carry on." Orange Sky, Alexi Murdoch

This is me and Marshall enjoying the view from the top of our hike in Whistler. OK, really we're just laughing at something Mountain Man said, but it's the same thing...