Runnin' from the Law

It came from the stalks, lumbering forward, driven by the unseen forces of converging ley lines.

Maybe it wasn't so dramatic. It's really me, walking through a corn maize while Amber takes an out of focus picture. But it was getting dark. Friday night, on Suavie Island, just north of the city, we spent some time bungling around the Pumpkin Patch. This year, the maze's theme was Portland, City of Bridges and stretched into the stalks. The greatest difference we found between this corn toy and the ones in New England was the amount of corn still attached to the towering stems. We could have picked and pickled enough to last a winter.
The maze was fun and we challenged ourselves to go forward and backward through it with and without the trivial directions. We were only lost once or twice and quickly recovered. GPS be damned.The following Saturday, we discovered the Smithsonian magazine was offering a free museum day for select museums. Through some financial revue, we chose to visit the Oregon Historical Society, which cost slightly more than the other available museum. We need to be frugal in these trying, economical times. What? Don't judge us.

The museum featured several exhibits, all focusing on something to do with Oregon. Most memorable of all the exhibits, Puppetry: An Out of Body Experience. The art and puppets were created by Michael Curry (I guess he's from Oregon?) and he has worked on Broadway. The Lion King commissioned Curry to create its award-winning actor-pets, or actor-puppets, or pup-tors.
He also worked on some more ethnic puppetry, as you can see below. He made giant Day of the Dead puppets, and those wires just in front of the figures made them move and dance. I couldn't figure out how to make them jitter-bug, but we sure made them shake it. The entire museum was worth the free coupon and we had an enjoyable time, until I set off the alarm.
We were in the pioneer section, having viewed the Portland hats and geological review, heading toward the Lewis and Clark exhibit. The museum had recreated the tent of a botanist traveling with Meriwether and Willy with fine detail. Drawings and notes littered the wooden table, a foot-locker lay in the corner, a fine lantern lit the canvas from above, and I innocently poked my head in for an inquisitive look. Perhaps I was too close, or too curious, but the overhead alarm sounded with three less than cordial blasts and shocked me backwards. Probably what it meant to do. It was a brief brush with the law, but I'm a changed man, skirting the fringes of acceptable society, staring down the man, loitering. You know the kind, Jimmy Dean like.

No one ever showed up after the alarm sounded; I think I saw a museum employee pacing the floor nearly fifteen minutes later, but nothing ever came of it. It's nothing like the art heist from the Isabella Gardner Museum, but by the time I tell my grandkids, it will be.

Oh Honey, Your Roots are Showing

Amber went to the dentist today, but no lollipops for her. Apparently, only 5% of all root canals ever present with problems. I told you my baby was special. Top 5%! Oh, yeah.

There still aren't any official solutions, but we have a few next steps. Monday, that's right, the day before her internship starts, she has another appointment with another specialist that actually performs a procedure that could help. With his expertise and DDS endorsement, we're hopeful that Amber won't need dentures before her time. I'd still be here to cut the corn off her cob whatever the prognosis.

Are you kidding me?

For the last few weeks, I have had gum pain, to which I attributed to the move and the stress that has accumulated since then. But yesterday, it dawned on me... this was the same tooth that I had the same feeling with right before I needed a root canal. Huh. Why would I have the same symptoms? I called a dentist around here who was able to see me right away because he was afraid that I had an infection. Well. It turns out that the original infection, from last year, never cleared up. I have had the infection all along and just a few short days before I start my clinical, it needs attention. I have an endodontist appointment this morning for a consult. All this wonderful crap without dental insurance. Needless to say I was in tears many times yesterday and probably again today. What if I need surgery? Oh my god! The surgery part I don't mind, but how much is this going to cost? I need this molar!

I was laughing because the office staff yesterday was so focused on the cosmetic aspects of my teeth- "oh they are so white and straight", etc. For some reason, I received the gift of multiple cavities, jaw problems and lasting infections. I hope that my future children will get Matt's teeth. When he fell on his face, he didn't have any issues with his teeth. Sure they were sore, but nothing came out or broke! He has had no braces and no wisdom teeth have impacted any other teeth. GAH!

Out of Sorts

Recently, the weather has been slowly changing. I have complained several times about the unexpected heat here in the city; this is Portland, Oregon, renowned for its dreariness and subsequent dependence on caffeine and hops, not the Mojave. However, more rain has begun to fall and more days now dress in draping, grey cloaks. We were caught in a rain storm over the weekend and every travel book that states Portlanders don't mind the rain or own umbrellas needs to be shredded and used for gerbil bedding. Even though the rain came suddenly and heavy, it felt like we were the only two drenched idiots without an umbrella. The broken streets filled with run-off as more people darted between raindrops than I could have expected. I suspect the stories of Oregonians braving the torrents of fall is mere bravado, something to tell tourists to get them soaked, something every transplant tells family to shake off the burdensome weather. I don't care who you are or where you're from, getting rained on, especially cold, Northwest rain, sucks. Nobody wants to be wet; we're not seals. Even after suffering through a drought, the first raindrops would be pleasant relief, reassuring, and then you would find shelter. We don't sit in puddles if we don't have to. Even those hippy yoga-ers abandoned their oneness with nature when it cams pissing down. Buy an umbrella; don't show off.

I am also caught off-guard by the city's exhibitionism prompted by aforementioned yoga-ers. I have so dubbed them because I don't know what else to call them. I struggled with the idea of practicing a form of physical exercise and meditation in the center of a busy city and still cannot grasp the idea of finding the Eastern peace required for such a pursuit in Pioneer Square. It's like the wisdom of a fortune cookie, somehow unfulfilling. But they're not the only ones. The city is home to fire dancers, rag-tag musicians, magicians, escape artists, vagabonds mumbling through song, and countless others performing for attention and the shower of coins that never seems to fall. It may be my virgin(c)ity, but Portland has an odd demographic running right through its identity that cannot be ignored, however hard I try. They aren't frightening, and like a sad Elvis impersonator, can be off-puttingly entertaining. Maybe that's just city life: pack in some weirdos, some activists, a strong contingent of working stiffs, sprinkle with unemployment, and bake, decorate with concrete and steel and serve.

What a weekend!

We went to the funniest show on Friday, aptly named Get Mortified (www.getmortified.com). It was so funny/embarrassing/ridiculous. A group of 6 Portlanders (only one was native to the area) shared glimpses of their past through their own memoirs. Yes, they read from their teenage journals and travel logues. They recounted their experiences of love, turmoil, teenage angst, mischief, and their beginning of a religious breakout. Yes. It was embarrassing. I was amazed that people still kept journals at that age. I never really gotten into the journal thing, but could only imagine how awkward and ridiculous reading it 10 years later would be.

I did write a travel logue once on a train trip to Florida. The only thing I can recall from it, since I dont know where it is, was that someone got sick and vomited in the train station. By the time the crew came to mop it up, it was gone, but in a wicked gross way. It was disgusting to see people walk in it and not realize what they had done.

Besides that, we lounged on Saturday. I felt sick and have shown symptoms of something (an allergic reaction?). I have 9 ichy dots on my right side that look hivish, but I am not sure..

Yesterday, we went to the market, the Museum of Contemporary Craft, the toy store and watched about 150 people doing yoga at a park in the middle of the city. AND I ate Thai. YUM.

Remember, always check your shoes,
Amber

My first time

So this is my first time contributing more than my pictures to the blog. Things have been great here in the city. Matt is continuing with his job search. I guess Oregon has hit it's all time greatest unemployment rate in 5 years, which is awesome timing for us. Despite that, we are trying to balance stress with fun. We have gone to many parks, museums and other outdoor events. I feel like I am still on vacation because I don't have to start work until the 30th! And if any of you know me.. doing nothing for this amount of time is killing me. BUT I feel like after 2-1/2 years of grad school studying, working and being stressed with internships and research projects that it would be ok. The lack of structure is more difficult than I thought! One week was ok, but 6? Whoa. Soooooo. I have been waking myself up at 7:30 everyday this week and next week maybe 6:30. I have to prepare myself for the new work schedule of 7:00-5:30 Tuesday through Friday. Plus with the walk to work, I will have to wake up just shy of 6 am. Big change from now!

Anxious to start working,
Amber