The LONG awaited album from Dirty Projectors is now available. Enjoy. So far I like all of them.... Album for sale next week, but available online for a limited time. I am looking forward to going with some admired company.

Youth Lagoon, Wonder Ballroom, Portland, OR, July 22!!!! Dirty Projectors, Crystal Ballroom, Portland, OR, July 25!!!!!!!

"Premium" messaging ain't so premium

Like most everyone out there, I hate scams, and I intentionally try to avoid them. Technology is hardly helping us. With the evolution of personal telecommunications devices, sadly, you can't easily avoid getting embroiled in a scam or two. In fact, you have to get involved at the start in order to save yourself literally hundreds of dollars a year.

A little background: In the last year, like many of you readers out there, my cell phone has started to receive spam text messages. They typically say the following kind of things:

"Impress ur friends with Amazing Facts 2 ur cell from the brainbender.com. Text HELP for help or call 8002357105 $9.99 STOP 2 quite Msg. & Data Rates May Aply." (spelling mistakes are actual, not mine!)

These kind of rambling incoherent messages are the kind of messages I will always ignore. My first instinct is to delete them. However, such precautions cannot protect you anymore from robbery. Apparently, one actually has to reply to the message with "STOP" to avoid being charged $9.99.

These SMS scams are called "premium message services" and they allow so-called companies to bill your phone company the subscription fee so it shows up automatically on your bill. Even if you have an unlimited data plan, you still get charged $9.99 due to some loop hole these crappy scam outfits have found a way to manipulate. These messages will come into your phone as a 4, 5, or 6 digit number. So when you see a text come in from a weird short number, make sure you reply with STOP. Better yet, call your wireless carrier and have them put a block on premium messaging services.

I called Verizon to contest the $9.99 charge and ask what the hell was going on. The customer service lady on the line, although ultimately helpful, sounded like she'd been hearing the same call all week long:

Verizon Lady: "Yeah, I got charged for something similar last month myself. You got to be really careful these days. Have you downloaded any games recently, or trivia feeds? It says on my screen that on 4/02 you received a message from something called Voodoo. Do you recall that?

Me: No, I would never download anything called Voodoo. I want to contest the charge.

VL: Well, I can meet you half way. I can refund you $5.

Me: I want to contest the entire charge.

VL: Well, I can meet you halfway myself, anything more I have to get permission from our supervising manager.

Me: Go ahead and do that.

(8 seconds passes while I'm on hold)

VL: Well, I got permission, you will be credited the $9.99. That doesn't happen very often.

Me: Yeah, I am pretty lucky.

It's official, I can park my car.

"
1980s garage door opener for my "new" old house

Spring forward shows in Portland...

3/23/12, Sharon Van Etten, Aladdin Theater
3/30/12, Carolina Chocolate Drops, Crystal Ballroom
4/11/12, Andrew Bird, Arlene Schnitzer Concert Hall
4/30/12, Washed Out, Doug Fir Lounge, 9PM
5/18/12, Ramona Falls, Doug Fir Lounge, 9pm

Pop a shot at my bus stop...

I got a text message from my mom today that read: "On the news they reported bullets fired at NE 33rd and Prescott."

First thought through my head was, "Hey, that's where I catch the bus. The corner with the green house where the creepy kid that watches me from his 2nd story window. Hmmm."



Turns out the bullets may have been intended for that creepy kid. There are bullets through that window tonight. I wonder how the kid is doing? Maybe this means he'll keep his distance from that window. Before tonight, I just thought the household was composed of a grandma and her two underachieving grandsons. The older brother smokes pot out on the side porch in the mornings, while the younger kid peers out the window at people waiting for the bus, often smoking as well.

The Oregonian wrote that the shooting was involved with some rather clumsy sounding hit and runs. This is where the story starts to not make any sense to me. They sound like separate incidents. Why would a 42 year old woman want to shoot a gun into the room of a reclusive 18-19 year old kid? The Oregonian has GOT to get its reporting under a tighter standard.

30 Year Relationship, Social Media Fumble

A few hours ago I submitted my second offer this month to purchase a piece of residential property in Portland. This time, thankfully, it's a better match for my income and need to be close to a bus stop that takes me downtown in 25 minutes. Plus, there's a tattoo parlor across the street, good coffee, and a $4 movie theater a 4-5 minute stroll away. Living at the foot of Mt. Tabor (okay, the far northeast foot) sounds like a good thing right now.

I'm glad there's an extra day in February - I would like to wrap this up by the end of the month. Let the painful waiting begin, and let's hope a scourge of Buyer's Remorse can be avoided. I don't want any teary nights over something as simple as where to live.

Post script annoyance: After 5 years of success in preventing LinkedIn from exploiting my Gmail address book, last Friday I fell a victim of clumsy social media management. Apparently I gave permission for this website to contact EVERYONE I ever wrote an email to and request a connection on LinkedIn. Ridiculous. Sure, there are quite a few invitations that were overdue or a victim of oversight. However, a healthy share of the invites went out to folks I've all been happily avoiding (purposely). These particular folks? Definitely not Facebook acquaintances. Lots of them are people that a) didn't give me a job I applied for at some point b) people I went out on one or two dates with c) people I don't even know. LinkedIn has attempted to get me to allow this mass transmission of invites for years. It has failed until now, and for that I do not forgive it.

Lesson of the week: don't trust LinkedIn's pre-populated dialogue boxes. They are intentionally designed to have people do exactly what I did.

Totally in the doghouse

I can't imagine what I did. Or didn't do.....

Okay, I can. Still, the fact that I am in the doghouse is so disturbing.

First time for everything.

Songs are easy to post

I've failed to regularly post as I have promised time and time again. Something I have done in the past is mention songs and artists I've been listening to that express my mood. It doesn't take a lot of poetic language or thought to do this. So I will continue.

Youth Lagoon, 17

Menomena, Wet and Rusting

Laura Gibson, Skin, Warming Skin

Too little, too late?

As a person who is 'new' to the City of Portland I've gotten very comfortable with forgetting about my past. Unless a new person asks a pointed question about previous episode in my life, or I spontaneously want to share a story from the past, topics of conversation and mental cognition have remained, thankfully, in the anonymous present.

But there are days here and there where something is published thousands of miles away, someone is profiled in a prestigious newspaper, this someone being a rather large part of the other life I've been successfully avoiding. I get a little sad because I'm prompted to mentally peruse the many shortcomings and lack of follow through I have in committing to something, to someone, to an idea of being there. People have been there for me and I don't seem to provide a convincing or meaningful welcome home.

As for the publication I mentioned, I am elated this fantastic person is getting his time in the sky. I just wish I could have sent a congrats and heard how his family was so pleased about it.

Beyond MusicFestNW

The big party ended last weekend, but there's still quite a few good acts passing through town. Hoping to get to these ones...

Junior Boys, Doug Fir Lounge, Wed. Sept 21
Robert Earl Keene, Aladdin Theater, Thurs. Oct. 6 (I have a red eye to NYC this day..)
The Girls, Wonder Ballroom, Thurs. Oct 6 (I chose the wrong Thurs. to leave town...)

It's been 10 years

It's been 10 years since the events of 9/11/01. A lot has changed, a lot has actually stayed quite the same. I certainly don't feel a whole decade older. I still feel like I'm in my mid-late 20s. I sort of live that way, too, for better or worse.

The evening of 9/11 I was in my apartment in Washington, DC. It was about 8pm. I'd just returned from my boyfriend's apartment down the street on Wyoming. I'd broken up with him, which sounds pretty heartless, but it was something I'd planned to do the evening before. I felt pretty terrible coming home to an apartment, but the TV was on and my roommate was up drinking wine, so I joined her, and it made things a little bit better.

After that, I went to my room and wrote a little letter, sealed it, and vowed to not open it for a long time. I guess today counts as a long time. Don't get too excited, I didn't find the letter yet. It's lurking somewhere in one of 15 boxes scattered around my sister's house. I didn't have a sudden urge to open it today, though, so I will continue to sit on it for just a bit longer.

The day was an amazing one to live through, my office being just 3 blocks from the White House, we were in the thick of it. I left the office that day without telling my boyfriend I'd gone home (he worked in the same building a few floors up). But I had a pretty good reason. One, I was escorting a woman who was 8 months pregnant to my house on foot. She was on the verge of freaking out and wouldn't consider taking a cab (if we could even find one), getting on a bus or taking the Metro to get home to her house in Alexandria. I thought walking was a better way to observe what was going on around us anyway.

I clearly remember the hordes of people exiting out of office buildings on 13th Street, all headed to a safe place, presumably with friends, colleagues or even strangers. It took us about an hour and a half to get back to my apartment, with a stop in between at the Whole Foods. Inside, my roommate had already arrived and the TV was on. We didn't even consider leaving our neighborhood at that point, despite the fact history was being made and there were probably a lot of amazing photo opportunities just beyond the windows. It was that intense of a day, you just wanted to close the door behind you, lock it and hunker down until you got the ok signal.

My folks presumed I was alright, I don't think they phoned me until later that evening. I felt a little bad about that, but I guess it is good they had confidence in my safety. Still, I think my mom called my sister first.

Already falling behind

This week it became very clear that summer is beginning to show signs of transition into a wholly different season. That's fall. Here, that's rain.

Last month I could rise at 5:15 and it would already be light outside, beckoning me to go on a run before work. Today, I rise at 6:20 and find the exact same light levels. Why does the peak of summer pass by so quickly, while the build up and let down seem to hang around forever?

This weekend is Labor Day weekend. The last hurrah before the school year begins. Next week I have to face the fact I will share the bus with teenagers again. It's been a really nice, calm last 3 months. The bus always has room and there's not a soul wearing Uggs. Sadly, just like summer's morning light, these fleeting days of figure flattering footwear will cease to exist.

This weekend my old classmate JP comes to visit. The last few months I have been very fortunate with amazing visitors coming to see Portland in its summertime glory, whether it be for pleasure or business, or a bit of both.

Figures

There comes a time
For everyone to sit down
And assess what's there and what is not there
Eternally up in the air

Head in hands day (H-I-H), part II

August 8, 2011 was an officially designated H-I-H day.

The arrival and passage of August 8, 2011 gave everyone a literal case of the Mondays. The stock market plunged 685 points (5%) with global insecurity focused on Western Civilization's hollow finances. Spain and Italy are primarily to blame, with the U.S. right behind in a neck-to-neck race to the bottom. Gelato can't fix this one, kids.


Curves like that don't lie.

The bad news was followed by a lot of media outlets encouraging everyday people to not attempt to liquidate their investments. It's the same thing we heard three years ago, and frankly feel like I got to believe this fairytale to keep sane and not start screaming at strangers on the MAX.

The comforting thing about all that happened today and in the weeks building up to it was we got what was coming to us. It would have been quite ridiculous to have gone through all that angst and bitter public debate for NOTHING. We made our beds, now we sleep in them - even if it's a leaky-ass, skanky waterbed that David Wu keeps in his basement.


Nice bed spread.

Enough of this gloom! Let's write!

Feeling a tad gloomy and partially nauseated when I got home from work tonight, I started to think about things that generally uplift my spirits and how such things can become more plentiful in my life day to day.

First off, I thought about the refreshing alone time that you get when you go out for a long run. That sounded pretty great, so I got on my running clothes, tied the ol' shoes, grabbed my ipod and got ready to roll out the door. But before I left, I remembered to be responsible: I tested my blood sugar to make sure all levels were in a favorable balance before exercising. Unfortunately, that pretty much threw a wrench in my happy time. My blood sugar was too low, so low that I would have to eat a lot of spoonfuls of jam (four or five of them), candy or juice to just walk around the block, let alone run 4 miles at full speed. So I bagged the run, made a simple dinner for myself and continued the happiness brainstorm.

Next, I thought about the nice collection of nearly 600 blog posts I've penned, most prolifically when I was in grad school in the mid-late 2000s. So I went to these blogs, this being one of them, and I started to read, peruse and feel nostalgic for my life of little to no sleep, strange roommates, three-legged dogs and weird Berkeley people. Man, good stuff (shout out to me!).

Here's my new pledge: *try* to make time to write a little something and post it here at least weekly! Looking back at my previous writing samples, I believe I had a talented eye for seeing the off-side and humor in things. I believe that talent is brewing somewhere deep inside, perhaps just partially obscured from the last 9 months working my butt off in an office. It's going to take some practice, though, so patience is needed by any readers as I better hone my craft.

I recall that one goal of my previous blogs was to recruit random readership, develop an online presence and generally impress the heck out of people. I gathered readers by posting my blog on my Friendster page. The result was mixed: I only recruited 4 or 5 regular readers that became involved with adding commentary, etc. So I might try that route at some point and see how it works in today's hyper-social networked environment. Hmm, I suppose I have to put on my marketing genius hat and figure out how to drive regular traffic towards my Facebook page. I have some ideas, perhaps not good or respectful ones, but they are ideas.

Until then... and check back soon.

A year ago today...

A year ago this day I was fresh from a LA bayou tour and feeling fierce heading to one of the darn near most pleasant places I've ever hunkered down for a few days, Lake Fausse Pointe State Park.

I was getting a little excited thinking about my long hours on the road last year while at work today. What an amazing gift I had to wander around America's corners for a few months on the university's dime. I still haven't completed the project to document my findings graphically - I've only barely gotten started on that project - it may be a long time coming. It is particularly challenging to push oneself on a solo project when you're working 10-12 hours a day at a desk across town. Although the work has been fun, it's certainly not the same as being on the road and being in charge of your day to day destiny, all the while living on a shoe string budget.

Happy V-Day folks.

so it's raining

Fall greetings. Many apologies for the lack of entries. Learning how to work again is taking all my time up and I have little time to do the things that I used to consider very critical to survival. Sleeping and eating ranks considerably higher than this blog.

It's been a few years since I've earned a full time paycheck. That said, it's a little rough getting oriented to sitting and computerizing for 8-10 hours daily. Good news is that the work crew is great, and there's not a lot of awkwardness in terms of getting to know new people. I have an enormous second floor window that overlooks the MAX light rail tracks. There's a bar across the street which happens to be the source of much daily amusement. The rain has started so there is less activity out on the street than there is over the summer (or so I recall from 2008), but at the same time perhaps less activity down there is better. I have a lot of work to do everyday so fewer distractions are a blessing.

My repetitive hand injury, a bursitis swelling at the base of my right index finger, is flaring up again due to work. It's about the size of a small pea. A HELL of a lot of mouse clicks contributed to the condition. I have to get a referral to go to a hand doctor. That doctor can hopefully insert a needle in there and drain the sucker which I was told is full of sticky oil. No pain associated with it yet, but I imagine we're approaching the limits on that given the intense use of the mouse over the last 2 weeks. I wish I had invested more time to learning how to use a mouse left handed in graphics programs. Blast.

Other depressing news is that I am one month into recovering from a traumatic long term break up. I need a few months to think about what is going on in my head. I need to be clear about what I need and am willing to give and compromise on. I'd like to think I am very adaptable, but my latest experience proves otherwise. I am pretty sure I serially sabotage relationships, so I need to work on figuring out why. I wish I had money for psychoanalysis. I swear this all stems from my Dad.

Speaking of Dad, we recently observed on Nov. 14 the 7th year of Dad's departure from this Earth. It rained that day, as it did the day he died while duck hunting on Sauvie's Island. We had a siblings dinner and the four of us shared some Dad stories which were great to hear but made me cry quite a bit. Been crying on and off for the last month so I suppose it's sort of a pattern.

Hope to write more over Thanksgiving. I am thankful for my family and for having something to do that relates to my training. Feeling really alone right now, but hoping that gets a little better somehow.

Ways to waste a beautiful Saturday

This is the task I found myself embroiled in for 3 hours today. 'Why' you ask? I need these damn pens working right to do a project. A volunteer project.

Status: Pens are clean. Two out of seven are broken. Estimated replacement cost: $13-$20 each.

The concert that wasn't to be is to be

Twice in the past two years I have purchased tickets to see the Dirty Projectors in concert in San Francisco. Each time I had to pass the tickets over to someone on CL or just eat them entirely - school got in the way or I was out of town. I have really regretted each missed concert. They always sell out in SF.

Tomorrow night I shall be vindicated! Tomorrow night the Dirty Projectors (click here for tunes) are playing at the Aladdin Theater. Not only am I 99% sure I will be able to make it (pending car accident or otherwise), but I will also be able to enjoy the show from a reclined position (all seats at the Aladdin are in actual "seats"). The only challenge I foresee will be getting there early enough that I get a good seat close to the front, but not arrive so early that I am bored out of my mind waiting for the act to begin. I suppose I can nerd-out and bring a book with me (Devil in the White City, currently).

My time in Portland has certainly not been musical enough. I am still kicking myself for not getting a ticket last month to see Robert Earl Keen and David Jacobs-Strain play at the Wonderland Ballroom. That would have been a great show with a humorous, interesting energy to it.

I also failed to see Panda Bear play at the Crystal Ballroom during MusicFest NW a couple weeks ago. I am LAME. That show would have been so cool. I adore Noah Lennox.

Off to bed...