Monday, September 29, 2008

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I feel quite proud of myself for hunting down a much more efficient public transpo option for school. Originally looking at a ride on the max and 15 or so blocks of walking each way had me look for an alternative and the number 8 bus is my savior knocking that 15 blocks down to 2 and since it's all in Portland's life saving FARELESS SQUARE I don't have to pay for crap. You don't get as much sun or excercise with that option but with the rain soon to be upon us, I'm not complaining. The only other bummer is that with such a short walk to class the only coffee shop with in 6 blocks is a f*cking Starbucks. I just cant. (a weird note about PSU campus, it has like 4 Starbucks! This is Portland, does anyone actually drink Starbucks, much less enough people to warrant 4 of them??)

Since oreintation, I've been a little concered about whether or not I'm actually making it into the correct classes. My schooling in the past was a 1 year basics/1 year intensive program which is hailed as one of the best in the country but doesn't give you alot of time to develop your own design style NOR do the credits translate to a 4 year school very well. At orientation the councelors mostly shrugged their shoulders and asked me if the class description sounded like something I'd already learned. It should be noted that class descriptions are equally as generic as the names of the classes themselves (type, page design, digital communication... What do those even mean??)

The teacher is a cute, recently graduated grad student/designer/artist/press owner who reminds me of Bam Margera from Jackass. Other than that I was also surprised at the relative normalcy of the other students. I guess I was expecting a bunch of people dressed in black with scarves and shagged hair brooding over glossy design annuals or something but they were all pretty normal looking if not seemingly incapable of speaking. Questions asked by the teacher barely elicited a nod from the bunch. All of them that is except for THAT GUY....THAT GUY had on jeans and a shirt, a wooly unshaven face and as I looked at him I surmised that he might be that funny guy that everybody gets along with, or maybe a quite shy kid who has a knack for sketch art but no... it looks as though THAT GUY is going to be filling the position of the socially inept tool who can't keep his mouth shut regardless of how inappropriate the timing but never fails to crack himself up, loudly.

"Ha ha ha, where'd all the pens go? Like they got lost in the bermuda triangle of pens? Ha ha ha, Where'd they go, that's an important question, ha ha ha" (What the F*uck is THAT GUY talking about?!?! He's talking about pens, what??!)
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Teacher: "so do any of you ever spend time looking through the design magazines at Powell's (an enormous, much loved and locally owned bookstore)

THAT GUY: "Does Borders count?" HA ha ha ha ha h... (borders being the oversized international chain loathed by most locals for putting small guys out of business the world over)

Teacher: "no"
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Teacher: "so here are several examples of magazine design, easy to find on the internet" (as he flips through several web pages)

THAT GUY: "OH WAIT, GO BACK! IS THAT TWO DINOSAURS HUMPING? HA HA HA HA H AHA HA HA!"
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I've decided I'm giving THAT GUY exactly one more class to get his act together before I exert my authority as the oldest person in the room (yes,even older than the professor) so therefore I don't give a shit about anything except THAT GUY shutting up.
That's my new mission. "Curse you THAT GUY! I WILL bring you down!! (or at least get you to keep your f*cking yap closed for most of class)
And here is the rest of it.

Thursday, September 25, 2008

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I like to be hipster about things. I like to turn up my nose at the grotesque humanitary practices of places like Walmart that reach from the local single mom pulling the night shift even though they're screwing her out of healthcare benefits to the children in the sweatshops that most of the products there come from. I want to proclaim "I'd rather DIE than drink at Starbucks" or take the time to learn the history about all the places I shop at so that not a single penny of mine inadvertently goes to supporting the KKK.

The truth of the matter though is that I shop at Target who, while doing great things in the local communities, are probably owned by the same people who own every other big box store and probably buy their products from sweatshops, but only the ones that don't use children.

The truth of the matter is, I sometimes drink starbucks because they ARE on every corner and I'm a lazy fuck sometimes and don't want to go wandering all over the city looking for a not-starbucks who may or may not have decent coffee.

The truth of the matter is I'd only shop organic, local, fresh, raw, free-range, no-additives, majik fairy food and produce if I made about $1000 more a month and had 6 hours a day I could dedicate to cooking from scratch. But I don't.

And I feel bad about it. I WANT to be able to support my local community, my friends and neighbors, the small farmers. I WANT to support places that support their suppliers, that take care of their workers, that offer above minimum wages to the people who grow, create and produce the things I buy and use. But sometimes it's just hard not to lose sight of how closely we are all connected. So then I drunkenly make the taxi driver swing by taco bell on my way home. *sigh*

Emily suggested we check out a cupping that was happening at Stumptown. Stumptown, for those of you living in a small cave with bats (or from out of town) could best be described as a minimalist version of Starbucks with an eye solidly on the bigger picture. Cuppings are essentially wine tasting but for coffee. I'm already a coffee snob of the 8th degree (this is about the level where even with a hangover you will actually turn down a bad cup of coffee or get up and leave to a different restaurant if someone says 'it's not so bad if you put in a lot of sugar') so this was especially up my alley.

The biggest draw of the evening though was that they were going to be doing a cupping with single origin coffees from Costa Rica. (Em and I spent a lot of time in CR so anything 'tico' has a special place in our hearts). The large majority of coffees available are blends, meaning that the beans in that particular coffee come from more than one farm, region or even country. These beans were all from their own micro-farms and the people who own and work these farms were present to talk about their places and processes. It was pretty amazing and for the first time in a long time I felt like I truly didn't mind paying $3.50 for a cup of coffee. It was exciting to see how people who are (insanely) committed to and excited about coffee can make a difference by treating everyone who has a hand in the process with respect and value for their part.

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Tuesday, September 23, 2008

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I felt nervous, my hands visibly shaking. I giggled uncomfortably and took a deep breath as he appeared from the other room. I couldn't help but stare, it was so beautiful. It was as if I could look forever and never be able to get my fill. He came closer and just laid it out there in the open for me, prompting me wordlessly to grasp it with my fingers. I looked over my shoulder at my boyfriend for reassurance that he was still ok with this. He smiled a quiet half smile, and I couldn't tell if it was lust or jealousy that flashed in his eye.


We finished up, I gathered my things and paid the man his money. As I walked out, I felt comforted that my feelings of doubt and shame at having spent so much money had been almost entirely swallowed by excitement and the plans of all the things I was going to be able to use this for in the future.

I suppose it's a testament to how truely nerdy I am. Financial Aid for school is allowing for enough extra money that I can spring for a new computer. My first new one in nearly 5 years. It's better than finding money on the sidewalk. Better than christmas. Better than sex! Well, at least that sloppy drunken kind that you fall asleep halfway through.

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Monday, September 22, 2008

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Went to see Irvine Welsh speak at Powell's today. Yesterday we saw Chuck Klosterman. It's little events like these that make me adore Portland. Maybe the novelty will wear off eventually but I have my doubts.

I think I'm going to start making sure I post short memos about all the weird events we go to. There are a surprising lot of them.

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Friday, September 19, 2008

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It's not the 5-15 people chillin on an enormous craftsman style covered deck like in the 'old days' in the Whiteaker, but the people are good and there are 40s.
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