slouching around portland
04.19.03 @ 1:00 p.m.
Last night I went out with Martha, ostensibly to go see the movie Giant at the 5th Avenue theater in downtown Portland. She got to my house a little early, so I was still burning the CDs I wanted to give her. We sat around my kitchen while the CDs were burning and chatted. My dad was in and out and I think he vaguely intimidates Martha because in most of the stories I tell he's either angry or just rather gruff. He's a nice guy, really. Not as bad as I sometimes make him out to be. Anyway. I gave her the Sid Vicious pin I bought last weekend at Hot Topic and happily, she loves it.
We took the MAX (Metro Area eXpress, it's a train like BART or Chicago's El) into Portland and walked a loooong way to the theater (I want to spell it theatre, is that pretentious coming from an American?). We were in no hurry, despite being vaguely late. At one point, Martha said "We're going to miss the beginning... if we had started to hurry when we got off the train, we could have made it, but clearly we do not care." Well, we *had* both seen the movie. Once we actually got there, we found out they were having technical difficulties and ended up standing around on a street corner trying to decide what to do. After a while I mentioned that I had wanted a particular shirt at Hot Topic and they didn't have my size at the Eugene one, so started moseying back down the street to the Portland streetcar stop (a completely different set of public transit train things! Yes, we have TWO!)
It was a lot of fun, we talked about all kinds of things and while we waited at Portland State for the streetcar, we joked that we should mug the only other guy there because he had clearly just bought a brand new midnight blue Fender bass and amp. We decided that were we to take his bass and run, we'd leave the amp behind. "My dad has amps," I reasoned.
We are not common thieves, but sometimes we act as if we are.
Oh my lord, I grossed the hell out of Martha (this occurs to me now as Iggy Pop's Lust for Life starts playing on my stereo) by telling her that Iggy Pop used to cut himself on stage and smear peanut butter in the wounds. Apparently, I've ruined peanut butter for her FOREVER. And speaking of musicians, I found it hilarious that I said, "I'm right, I am the last person in the world who hasn't seen Labryinth" (shocking, no? I'll rent it eventually, don't worry) and Martha said, "But I thought you love Bowie!" I had to explain that what little I know I love, and I know just enough to have cultural awareness of him. Aagh. What I had said made sense to her then, I just can't remember it now.
We spent a bunch of time at Hot Topic, sorting through the buttons. I got the much anticipated Rock and Roll Circus t-shirt and a little union jack button (Martha: "Your mom is going to hate you now." Me: "She'll be disappointed, but she won't' *hate* me.") to keep the Who button on my purse company. We chatted and joked with the clerk, who enthusiatically told me he started the Eugene Hot Topic when I mentioned not being able to find a medium Rock and Roll Circus shirt there. I pulled out a bright pink button that said (in a Sex Pistols font) "More Punk Than You" and showed it to Martha, who thought that I should have gotten it for the irony value, because I while I completely don't LOOK punk, I'm getting into punk music. I'm slowly but surely becoming hipster, I guess, in my appearance. Ringer t-shirts and baseball shirts. All I need are thicker glasses frames and converse, eh? Actually, I'm considering getting some all stars to replace my deteriorating Adidas. Well, they're not really deteriorating, they just look seriously ratty. They're still very good shoes--at the beach a wave rolled over my feet but my socks did not get wet.
We talked a lot about how one of friends is a major poser lately. We weren't nice, not nice at all, and for that I feel slightly guilty but hey, I was being honest about what I've been thinking lately. And maybe she's honestly interested in some of the things that seem so very poser-y to me, but I have a hard time believing that. I know I'm selfish and contemptuous and being even more of a snob than usual. It doesn't help that in the last week I've had very long, earnest conversations with two of the coolest people I know (Martha and Slavik). They are just the hippest, most interesting people and they're fucking honest to themselves. And I just love that. They're hip without trying.
Look at me, it's amazing I have time to write what with building these fucking pedestals to put those two on. It makes it all that much more delightful when they hold long conversations with little ol' ME.
Maaah, the KINKS. I love them so much lately. Martha gave me a lovely song called Alcohol. I am obsessed (not that I haven't been obsessed with the Kinks at other points in my life--They're Mod music, and I adore it.)
We're cleaning house now (man, this is getting to be a long entry) in preparation for Easter dinner tomorrow. Hence me hiding out upstairs with a stereo and my laptop. I cleaned the dust off the card table we need to have room for everybody to eat and then we're going birthday shopping for my dad. I wish I could think of something cool and unique to get him, but I can't. Or a CD he really wants. I know there are lots of those, but we're getting him a gift certificate to Music Millenium, which is I think his favorite store. Grr. I want to be cool and considerate and surprise him with something, but I have no idea what. Maybe something will strike me at MM, but I kind of doubt it. It would seem that the much-complained about dinner at Dorian and Julia's will not be happening. Dorian hasn't called us back and, well, that means we're going to hang around the house and delight in my sparkling company. And maybe we'll watch Scotland, PA which we rented and which I am just DYING to see. Dad also rented The Doors because I was telling him about the Great Frog Society sketch on SNL with Val Kilmer.
PS- Out of context Martha quote: "And ever since, I just can't stop drawing swastikas."
Context: Spring break involved a recreating of D-Day with plastic army men, and to identify Normandy, we of course had to draw French and Nazi flags.
Previously
fuck it @ 08.01.05
fanciful imaginary sea voyages to come @ 07.20.05
*dies* @ 07.19.05
more ootp @ 07.17.05
harry potter: driving our children into devil worship @ 07.17.05
