I just completely bewildered a business owner by offering a measurement in centimeters rather than inches for a common household item. Helpfully, I brought a measuring tape to assure the man that 35 centimeters is not, as he was very concerned about, absolutely gargantuan.
Thank you to everyone who came yesterday for our Multnomah County Proclamation Day! We celebrated with a Women's History Month reception sponsored by me and @jvegapederson.bsky.social. The theme for Women’s History Month this year is Leading the Change: Women Shaping a Sustainable Future. #Multco
Portland needs to develop more effective climate strategies, improve community transparency on those decisions and better coordination within city bureaus if it wants to meet its climate goals, according to an audit released Wednesday.
Met a Vivien from Chicago tonight so I'm pleased the experiment is indeed working and we are multiplying in the Pacific Northwest with all vowels represented.
Still have last evening's performance of 'Racecar, Racecar, Racecar' at Artists Repertory on my mind. Surrealist art and performance hits differently in authoritarian times.
Oh they've definitely heard my feedback.
I have spent 4 nights this week in downtown Portland past 9pm and have probably spent at least 90 cumulative minutes just waiting for the bus.
The wild slingshot ride I put my body through from dehydrated to well hydrated.
Absolutely. Which is why I'm watching all these impressive feats from the safety of my couch.
I would train for the single luge myself! Apparently there was an athlete from Taiwan in the sport but they switched to bobsleigh.
Slopestyle is a wild sport because they expect you to deal with ski poles while doing flips and spins? Bonkers.
Energized, activated younger neighbors moved in on my block and immediately did some door knocking and have organized some community building activities. Love this energy from them, but I am chuckling at the invite for a neighborhood swap and potluck scheduled for 3pm on a Monday.
Sometimes a crumb falls
From the tables of joy,
Sometimes a bone
Is flung.
To some people
Love is given,
To others
Only heaven.
- "Luck", Langston Hughes 1947
Went to the 'Dear Portland' installation at Stelo for First Thursday and came away thinking quite a bit about this poem.
Had a dream where I was a seated guest at a Top Chef-like final meal at a modern museum that kept getting interrupted by the threat of immigration agents outside the doors.
It's finally 5pm on a Friday, why has it been a month since the last one.
I have both cut them back and protected with bags before the frost/ice and have totally left them to fend for themselves. They are quite resilient and there hasn't been much of a difference in regrowth, honestly. I find water saturation of the stem to be a bigger issue than cold for the plant.
Literally everything is worse than I thought.
My recommendation to boost employee morale is a live, improvisational jazz band to illustrate the vibes and punctuate key moments during meetings. A worthwhile investment, I believe!
I am both clumsy and light on luck.
😭 truly the worst to smell like coffee all day and have barely drank any!
And today I dumped a whole thermos of coffee made from these fancy beans in my backpack during the morning bus commute. I barely salvaged a half cup.
Too confidently asked the cashier what the cheapest bag of beans were so I didn't end up "paying $25 for some coffee beans". Friends, I ended up paying $25 for some coffee beans.
The instructor played Judy Garland's original version of Somewhere Over the Rainbow during the wind down today and that sent me into a sobbing fit right there in the middle of class. Hope feels so elusive these days, man.
I truly do believe ebikes are key part of the transportation solution but it sure feels silly to wheel into the shop saying, "my bike won't turn on".
Domestic terrorism.
Strong start to the year for professional emails addressed to Vivan.
In a city that prefers to be bundled up and cozy at home, the new record shop that's open until 10pm in my neighborhood is the anecdote I needed this winter.
This poem from Wendell Berry comes to mind today:
It may be that when we no longer know what to do
we have come to our real work,
and that when we no longer know which way to go
we have come to our real journey.
The mind that is not baffled is not employed.
The impeded stream is the one that sings.
Brushed out a mohair sweater while wearing it to relax the yarn. And cats do exactly this for approximately three quarters of their waking life.
You're correct, I had forgotten about that inner SE location! I have 82nd Ave bias and I know it.