We departed Pennsylvania on Monday morning and made it to the state line by 3pm, which was good timing. As we were about out of the state, I got a call to learn that my Mom was being admitted to the hospital because she was having difficulty breathing. So the visit that started with Dad in the psych ward ended with Mom in the ER.
My wife was not feeling well most of the trip and wondered about the onset of a migraine. Midway through Ohio we were certain and by the time we reached Ann Arbor she was at a 10 for pain. Her sheer will got her home without puking. Mr. Man did not fall asleep as I anticipated so when we arrived home at 11pm this was the scenario:
My wife runs into the house, ignores the cat who is desperately seeking attention and beelines to the bathroom to begin puking. I carry the few essentials into the house with Mr. Man. I put the food items in the kitchen and he and I head upstairs. I know my wife is puking and I HATE puke. I yell at Mr. Man to run and hide in his room. He gets upset and goes back to his hissy fit about how he wants to assemble legos. My wife needs water, so I go and get some and give it to her with my eyes closed so I don't see the puke that has gathered in the bucket. I go back to the screaming child and dodge the bites and scratching of the cat, who is still desperately seeking attention. I try to get Mr. Man settled but I'm flipping out about the puke and the sheer chaos of everything and I'm not helping anyone. When I return to the bathroom my wife, who is smart but not lucid, has begun dumping the puke down the drain in the tub - which promptly backs up. There's absolutely no way I can deal with that, so I flip out some more. I forget what happens next. My wife tries to clean up the bathroom and console my son. At some point I go back in with Mr. Man and I help him calm down, explain why I'm upset and we go to sleep. My wife sleeps in the bedroom alone and in pain.
The next morning I am supposed to go to work, but my wife is still very sick and cannot be with Mr. Man alone, so I stay home. I am worn out from last night and I have little reserves to call on. After cleaning the shit off the wall and floor that the cat left for us, I begin putting legos together with Mr. Man, who is very hyper. Let's just say I won't kill you, but I'm not a very pleasant mom to be with.
It's at this point that I realize that I used every ounce of energy to get through the visit with my family and that now I have nothing left to call on. When we were visiting my family, my wife and I made it through and supported each other, for which I'm grateful. Now I'm just mad that everything took such a toll. Regardless, I feel worthless - not able to care for my son or to help my wife.
Tuesday, December 27, 2005
Highlights Part I: The Last Trek Home
We left at 8:00 pm on Thursday night to drive for the next 12 hours while Mr. Man slept. This was the beginning of my last driving trip home to Pennsylvania for a holiday visit with my family. It was a short one, lasting only Friday morning to Monday morning. I made it until about 3am, when I had to pull over for a 45 minute snooze. Fortunately Mr. Man did sleep most of the night from about 11pm until about 6:30 am. My wife and I were able to have good conversation, which is largely impossible for more than 2 hours with a sitter any other time in our life. This was excellent and was what kept me going. We arrived home at my mother's house at 8:30 am, which was amazing timing and a relatively painless trip (aside from the not sleeping).
The first excitement was my father, who apparently went off his meds early in the week and was hospitalized in the mental health unit on Monday. I was quite ticked at this, as this was going to be my last visit before our cross-country move and I did not want Mr. Man visiting his Gramps in the mental ward. But when we arrive Friday morning, I learn that Dad is not in the nice family-friendly hospital, rather the yucky institution housed in the large estate about an hour away. I learn at 9am that the clinic has no discharge date for him and that they don't allow visitors under age 10. When I talk to Dad, he is insistent that he is getting out of the hospital for the holidays and if I need to, I should call his Senator to get him released. During a pause in our conversation he says his psychiatrist is releasing him today. I don't know what to believe, so I give him my phone number and tell him I'll check back in with him a bit later.
Meanwhile we make plans with my mother to meet her for lunch. In a bit I get a phone call from the clinic saying they are releasing my father and could I come pick him up. I agree on a 3pm pickup. We meet my mother and have lunch, drop Mr. Man off with her at her office to stay with her while my wife and I go pick up Dad. I am freaking out the whole time because Mom's chronic disease has clearly been taking its toll and I worry about her ability to care for Mr. Man and drive him home safely in the car that's too old to safely affix his car seat.
My wife and I find ourselves on another hour drive to the clinic to pick up Dad and arrive later than planned. They release him from the horrid facility and we spend the next hour driving him home listening to him go on about how things are changing, cigarettes are healthy, cleansing and healing and how it's going to get really warm and spring is going to come. We discuss plans for Christmas Day and he says he really wants to see his mom, so we make plans for my brother, Dad, my wife, Mr. Man and myself to drive over to her house on Sunday. We drop him off at his home.
I've had 45 minutes of sleep in the last 40 hours and return to my mothers' house for dinner. My moms are excited we've come to celebrate their giving of many gifts. I have no money and have come with no gifts for anyone save a few homemade art projects of Mr. Man. I just want to sink into the earth and be swallowed whole.
My brother comes home from work, reports that he talked to Dad about our plans to go to our grandmother's house on Christmas Day and he is pissed that no one asked him. He is angry and does not want to go. Apparently he didn't express that to Dad, just to me. I make a mental note to negotiate with Dad tomorrow on behalf of my brother. It's midnight and I go to bed.
The next day I negotiate a settlement between my grandmother and Dad to have her come to Dad's house on Christmas Day. She is passive aggressive because she is 75, plays the organ in church early that morning, has a 45 minute drive and can't see in the dark. Dad and my brother are equally unpleasant about the whole settlement. The three of us head to Dad's house for lunch. We endure Dad saying that one day we will eat beef because when we eat animals they attain spiritual enlightenment. Go back to eating your California burger, Dad.
We return to my mothers' house on Christmas Eve for a larger family gathering of aunts, uncles and cousins. I drink Jack and ginger ale. After everyone else goes to bed, my brother and I flip around the channels and he falls asleep while I watch the end of Good Will Hunting.
The next day my mothers' house celebrates Christmas and I realize my son has turned into greedy guts, in search of the most presents. The same thing happens at Dad's house, where Mr. Man receives 4 huge boxes of Lego sets to assemble. I begin working with Mr. Man to assemble the fire rescue helicopter with 260 pieces. I drink wine and the helicopter sort of works. We progress on to my uncle's house for post-Christmas dinner. We play games and depart on my uncle's story of how he caught a 13-foot, 300-lb shark and had to beat it and gut it so that they could get it ashore safely. And, yes, he ate it.
I am exhausted. My last trip home to Pennsylvania for a while is all that I expected, plus more. We leave the land I love and the people called my family. When I cry I don't know if it's because I'm sad or relieved.
The first excitement was my father, who apparently went off his meds early in the week and was hospitalized in the mental health unit on Monday. I was quite ticked at this, as this was going to be my last visit before our cross-country move and I did not want Mr. Man visiting his Gramps in the mental ward. But when we arrive Friday morning, I learn that Dad is not in the nice family-friendly hospital, rather the yucky institution housed in the large estate about an hour away. I learn at 9am that the clinic has no discharge date for him and that they don't allow visitors under age 10. When I talk to Dad, he is insistent that he is getting out of the hospital for the holidays and if I need to, I should call his Senator to get him released. During a pause in our conversation he says his psychiatrist is releasing him today. I don't know what to believe, so I give him my phone number and tell him I'll check back in with him a bit later.
Meanwhile we make plans with my mother to meet her for lunch. In a bit I get a phone call from the clinic saying they are releasing my father and could I come pick him up. I agree on a 3pm pickup. We meet my mother and have lunch, drop Mr. Man off with her at her office to stay with her while my wife and I go pick up Dad. I am freaking out the whole time because Mom's chronic disease has clearly been taking its toll and I worry about her ability to care for Mr. Man and drive him home safely in the car that's too old to safely affix his car seat.
My wife and I find ourselves on another hour drive to the clinic to pick up Dad and arrive later than planned. They release him from the horrid facility and we spend the next hour driving him home listening to him go on about how things are changing, cigarettes are healthy, cleansing and healing and how it's going to get really warm and spring is going to come. We discuss plans for Christmas Day and he says he really wants to see his mom, so we make plans for my brother, Dad, my wife, Mr. Man and myself to drive over to her house on Sunday. We drop him off at his home.
I've had 45 minutes of sleep in the last 40 hours and return to my mothers' house for dinner. My moms are excited we've come to celebrate their giving of many gifts. I have no money and have come with no gifts for anyone save a few homemade art projects of Mr. Man. I just want to sink into the earth and be swallowed whole.
My brother comes home from work, reports that he talked to Dad about our plans to go to our grandmother's house on Christmas Day and he is pissed that no one asked him. He is angry and does not want to go. Apparently he didn't express that to Dad, just to me. I make a mental note to negotiate with Dad tomorrow on behalf of my brother. It's midnight and I go to bed.
The next day I negotiate a settlement between my grandmother and Dad to have her come to Dad's house on Christmas Day. She is passive aggressive because she is 75, plays the organ in church early that morning, has a 45 minute drive and can't see in the dark. Dad and my brother are equally unpleasant about the whole settlement. The three of us head to Dad's house for lunch. We endure Dad saying that one day we will eat beef because when we eat animals they attain spiritual enlightenment. Go back to eating your California burger, Dad.
We return to my mothers' house on Christmas Eve for a larger family gathering of aunts, uncles and cousins. I drink Jack and ginger ale. After everyone else goes to bed, my brother and I flip around the channels and he falls asleep while I watch the end of Good Will Hunting.
The next day my mothers' house celebrates Christmas and I realize my son has turned into greedy guts, in search of the most presents. The same thing happens at Dad's house, where Mr. Man receives 4 huge boxes of Lego sets to assemble. I begin working with Mr. Man to assemble the fire rescue helicopter with 260 pieces. I drink wine and the helicopter sort of works. We progress on to my uncle's house for post-Christmas dinner. We play games and depart on my uncle's story of how he caught a 13-foot, 300-lb shark and had to beat it and gut it so that they could get it ashore safely. And, yes, he ate it.
I am exhausted. My last trip home to Pennsylvania for a while is all that I expected, plus more. We leave the land I love and the people called my family. When I cry I don't know if it's because I'm sad or relieved.
Tuesday, December 20, 2005
Longest Night
Happy Solstice. My wife encouraged me to take tomorrow off so we could be together. I'm so happy I listened to her. No alarms are set for tomorrow and we have fun plans.
Meanwhile, I have now turned down two jobs from last week's interviews. I got another call today for two positions that I thought I had been eliminated from. Perhaps the new year will bring more news.
Meanwhile, I have now turned down two jobs from last week's interviews. I got another call today for two positions that I thought I had been eliminated from. Perhaps the new year will bring more news.
Monday, December 19, 2005
Dilemma
So, I have one offer and I turned down the job that was simply not enough money. The offer outstanding is under salary negotiations, and even at best I'm not sure I'd accept. The salary is low, which wouldn't be so bad if I didn't have to pay $400 a month to get health insurance benefits for Mr. Man! Yikes, I guess I'm learning that I have a good package where I'm at.
However, my current employer is showing its true colors and a love for its own selfish interests. I left last week with two people telling me to my face that they hope I don't get a job. Now said current employer would like me to consider offering February 1 as a start date. Hello? Today is December 19th. What part of the last nine months did you not have to prepare for the fact I am leaving??? Much anger, bitterness and a total lack of interest or motivation to do any work.
Meanwhile, the Dream Job of the ones I interviewed for last week won't be moving further along in its decision until after the new year. They have confirmed that I am a candidate that they would be interested in, but they haven't interviewed the rest of the candidates and I have no guarantee that if I turned down the offer on the table that I would get the Dream Job.
Decisions, decisions. Screw my family with a lowball offer or screw my family by gambling and getting no offer to get us out of here...
However, my current employer is showing its true colors and a love for its own selfish interests. I left last week with two people telling me to my face that they hope I don't get a job. Now said current employer would like me to consider offering February 1 as a start date. Hello? Today is December 19th. What part of the last nine months did you not have to prepare for the fact I am leaving??? Much anger, bitterness and a total lack of interest or motivation to do any work.
Meanwhile, the Dream Job of the ones I interviewed for last week won't be moving further along in its decision until after the new year. They have confirmed that I am a candidate that they would be interested in, but they haven't interviewed the rest of the candidates and I have no guarantee that if I turned down the offer on the table that I would get the Dream Job.
Decisions, decisions. Screw my family with a lowball offer or screw my family by gambling and getting no offer to get us out of here...
Thursday, December 15, 2005
Need my Family
Today was the long day and it's over. At this point I'm exhausted and I want to be in the arms of my family. I got up really early and left around 8am to go take my tests at the transit company. I did better than I thought I would on Access. Scored fine on the rest, despite the fact they were on PCs. (Who actually uses PCs happily?) From there I go on to make the next interview in 30 minutes, which would have been okay, had the bus not been late and then the Hawthorne Bridge gone up. I was 15 minutes late and called ahead to tell them my problem. I got there and they all understood, because they, too, all used transit. This panel interview asked some good questions, the job is comparable to what I do now and the people seem nice. They gave me a budget exercise to complete in Excel. No sweat.
Then I hopped back on the bus to go back to interview at the transit company. My first panel interview is with the leaders of the department I'd be working with. They ask good questions and the interview is fun. I like everyone around the table. Everyone wants to know why I want to move to Portland. When I describe why and what I think Portland has to offer, one of the marketing coordinators says, "Oh, so you're part of the young creative class." For a minute I forget I'm talking to marketing folks and realize I've just been pigeonholed into marketing research. Sure, I say. Actually, I was flattered by the young part. At the end of the interview, they suggest I wait in the library for my next interview with a different panel, which happens in an hour. There's really a library at the transit company, complete with 2 librarians and plenty of resources on all kinds of stuff - mass transit, public planning, anti-car stuff, etc. So the librarian sets me up with the intranet, where I get to check out organizational charts, strategies and other employee stuff. Then I get called for the next panel. This panel consists of other administrative and mid-level managers from a broader spectrum in the division. This interview was also fun and I like all the people around the table again. They ask me the work-related questions and then they ask me the fun questions, like what song or poem has deep meaning for me or what would a semester look like for me if I could take all the classes I've always wanted. (The answers were After All by Dar Williams and Spanish, Ceramics and Knitting.)
Following this interview, I head back to the hostel. I'm exhausted and I have work to do and schoolwork to finish in addition to packing to get ready for an early flight. I check in with my wife and Mr. Man says his tummy hurts. I have an immediate gut-level feeling that he's going to puke. I ignore it because I'm a freak about puke and obsess about puke getting anywhere. They are going to bed soon and I plan to check in with my wife after Mr. Man is asleep.
I decide not to venture out to find a vegan restaurant I was considering. I'm tired so I go back to Vege Thai because I know it's good and close. Here I find that I've developed my first friend in Portland. The man who owns the restaurant is happy to see me and we talk about my day and how I like the vegan chicken. I tell him it's okay, but next time I would just stick with the tofu. He is sad that I can't come tomorrow when he'll be getting in special tofu. I tell him I'll be back and likely become a regular. We agree to see each other soon.
I'm exhausted and dreading returning to work, especially after reading my email. I have to pack and have no idea how I'm going to make everything I picked up here fit. This is where my wife would ordinarily take over. Soon I get a call from her and she reports that Mr. Man has projectile vomited all over the bedroom and a friend is on the way over to help clean up, because someone needs to stay with him. I feel so intensely bad that she has to do this by herself. My baby is sick and I'm not there! I want to be home now so I can help, even though I detest vomit. I miss my peeps. I'm going to pack and pout a bit.
Then I hopped back on the bus to go back to interview at the transit company. My first panel interview is with the leaders of the department I'd be working with. They ask good questions and the interview is fun. I like everyone around the table. Everyone wants to know why I want to move to Portland. When I describe why and what I think Portland has to offer, one of the marketing coordinators says, "Oh, so you're part of the young creative class." For a minute I forget I'm talking to marketing folks and realize I've just been pigeonholed into marketing research. Sure, I say. Actually, I was flattered by the young part. At the end of the interview, they suggest I wait in the library for my next interview with a different panel, which happens in an hour. There's really a library at the transit company, complete with 2 librarians and plenty of resources on all kinds of stuff - mass transit, public planning, anti-car stuff, etc. So the librarian sets me up with the intranet, where I get to check out organizational charts, strategies and other employee stuff. Then I get called for the next panel. This panel consists of other administrative and mid-level managers from a broader spectrum in the division. This interview was also fun and I like all the people around the table again. They ask me the work-related questions and then they ask me the fun questions, like what song or poem has deep meaning for me or what would a semester look like for me if I could take all the classes I've always wanted. (The answers were After All by Dar Williams and Spanish, Ceramics and Knitting.)
Following this interview, I head back to the hostel. I'm exhausted and I have work to do and schoolwork to finish in addition to packing to get ready for an early flight. I check in with my wife and Mr. Man says his tummy hurts. I have an immediate gut-level feeling that he's going to puke. I ignore it because I'm a freak about puke and obsess about puke getting anywhere. They are going to bed soon and I plan to check in with my wife after Mr. Man is asleep.
I decide not to venture out to find a vegan restaurant I was considering. I'm tired so I go back to Vege Thai because I know it's good and close. Here I find that I've developed my first friend in Portland. The man who owns the restaurant is happy to see me and we talk about my day and how I like the vegan chicken. I tell him it's okay, but next time I would just stick with the tofu. He is sad that I can't come tomorrow when he'll be getting in special tofu. I tell him I'll be back and likely become a regular. We agree to see each other soon.
I'm exhausted and dreading returning to work, especially after reading my email. I have to pack and have no idea how I'm going to make everything I picked up here fit. This is where my wife would ordinarily take over. Soon I get a call from her and she reports that Mr. Man has projectile vomited all over the bedroom and a friend is on the way over to help clean up, because someone needs to stay with him. I feel so intensely bad that she has to do this by herself. My baby is sick and I'm not there! I want to be home now so I can help, even though I detest vomit. I miss my peeps. I'm going to pack and pout a bit.
Wednesday, December 14, 2005
Freaky Geek Porn
A few more thoughts for today.
The weather here has been wonderful - sunny! Who knew it would be sunny for two solid days--and it's forecast to be clear tomorrow. Apparently there's a weather thing here called freezing fog. Not sure exactly what that is. Perhaps you have to be near the river to see it. But it's talked about a lot. The clear skies have shown a beautiful full moon last night and tonight.
So I ventured down the street to Vege Thai for dinner. I thought it kind of odd when I looked at the menu and saw fish and chicken as section headings. I thought it was a vegetarian restaurant. The menu keeps referring to protein choice and I look closer and realize that everything is vegetarian. They serve veggie meat substitutes - including fish, shrimp, chicken and pepper steak. Soy fish??? Soy shrimp???? I never liked fish or seafood as a carnivore, so I'm not motivated to try them, but I was so curious. Anyway, they weren't vegan. I know because the owner kindly went to check the soy ham. He came back and informed me it wasn't vegan because it has whey in it. I was so geeked that he knew and cared enough to check the ingredients. He does have vegan chicken, but he was out.
So I started with marinated tofu with peanut sauce. The tofu was in long strips on skewers, marinated and grilled. The peanut sauce was light and wonderful. There were 4 skewers - it was practically a whole brick of tofu! My entree was pineapple curry. This was not just any curry. It was an amazing fusion of fresh veggies and fruit. The bamboo was freshly grated. Who knew bamboo was so sweet when it's not canned? The pineapple was fresh. It also had broccoli, cauliflower, a few cherry tomatoes and my protein choice was tempeh. Top it all off with fresh springs of Thai basil. It was simply amazing. I've always wanted to taste Thai basil, but I haven't scoured all the asian markets at home to find it. It's awesome. The curry was served with fresh brown rice that was plated in a the shape of an inverted bowl. The jasmine tea was freshly brewed and heartwarming. An amazing meal for a grand total of $13.
I left completely full and happy. I continued walking down Hawthorne, browsed at the Goddess Gallery Garden before heading down to Powell's. When I got to Powell's I found not one, but two. One regular Powell's and a Powell's specifically for cooks and gardeners. I decided to step into In Other Words, the feminist women's bookstore directly across the street. I picked up even more free literature and a book for Mr. Man. It was actually hard not to buy more.
But my goal for the evening was to get to Food Fight!, the vegan grocer. So I ventured on. Food Fight! is a tiny store, but with lots of fun stuff. They have a freezer and refrigerated section, lots of goodies (candy, doughnuts, chocolates and truffles), zines and cookbooks and lots of fun vegan info with an attitude. If I didn't have such a full bag I would have bought more. Here's what I couldn't resist:
So I've had the doughnut and it was simply amazing. The store also sold lots of fake meat products - including shrimp. I didn't even look in great detail at everything because the whole vegan fish and shrimp thing is sort of weirding me out. A fun store. I was the 3rd customer of the day from out of town. Wait until my wife learns you can shop online.
I waited for the bus back to Hawthorne in front of a store that sells juggling equipment. My wife says that Portland is like porn for freaky geeks. I totally agree. I can't wait to move here.
The weather here has been wonderful - sunny! Who knew it would be sunny for two solid days--and it's forecast to be clear tomorrow. Apparently there's a weather thing here called freezing fog. Not sure exactly what that is. Perhaps you have to be near the river to see it. But it's talked about a lot. The clear skies have shown a beautiful full moon last night and tonight.
So I ventured down the street to Vege Thai for dinner. I thought it kind of odd when I looked at the menu and saw fish and chicken as section headings. I thought it was a vegetarian restaurant. The menu keeps referring to protein choice and I look closer and realize that everything is vegetarian. They serve veggie meat substitutes - including fish, shrimp, chicken and pepper steak. Soy fish??? Soy shrimp???? I never liked fish or seafood as a carnivore, so I'm not motivated to try them, but I was so curious. Anyway, they weren't vegan. I know because the owner kindly went to check the soy ham. He came back and informed me it wasn't vegan because it has whey in it. I was so geeked that he knew and cared enough to check the ingredients. He does have vegan chicken, but he was out.
So I started with marinated tofu with peanut sauce. The tofu was in long strips on skewers, marinated and grilled. The peanut sauce was light and wonderful. There were 4 skewers - it was practically a whole brick of tofu! My entree was pineapple curry. This was not just any curry. It was an amazing fusion of fresh veggies and fruit. The bamboo was freshly grated. Who knew bamboo was so sweet when it's not canned? The pineapple was fresh. It also had broccoli, cauliflower, a few cherry tomatoes and my protein choice was tempeh. Top it all off with fresh springs of Thai basil. It was simply amazing. I've always wanted to taste Thai basil, but I haven't scoured all the asian markets at home to find it. It's awesome. The curry was served with fresh brown rice that was plated in a the shape of an inverted bowl. The jasmine tea was freshly brewed and heartwarming. An amazing meal for a grand total of $13.
I left completely full and happy. I continued walking down Hawthorne, browsed at the Goddess Gallery Garden before heading down to Powell's. When I got to Powell's I found not one, but two. One regular Powell's and a Powell's specifically for cooks and gardeners. I decided to step into In Other Words, the feminist women's bookstore directly across the street. I picked up even more free literature and a book for Mr. Man. It was actually hard not to buy more.
But my goal for the evening was to get to Food Fight!, the vegan grocer. So I ventured on. Food Fight! is a tiny store, but with lots of fun stuff. They have a freezer and refrigerated section, lots of goodies (candy, doughnuts, chocolates and truffles), zines and cookbooks and lots of fun vegan info with an attitude. If I didn't have such a full bag I would have bought more. Here's what I couldn't resist:
- a chocolate marble swirl doughnut from the company my wife talks about (for my dessert)
- a kind of soy jerkey I can't get back at home (for me to snack on between my 4 appointments tomorrow)
- a fun zine-like vegan cookbook
- marshmallow spread!!!! (so we can enjoy fluffernutters when I get home!)
- Tuno (really and truly a vegan tuna substitute. I just had to buy a can to satisfy my curiosity
- a surprise for my family.
So I've had the doughnut and it was simply amazing. The store also sold lots of fake meat products - including shrimp. I didn't even look in great detail at everything because the whole vegan fish and shrimp thing is sort of weirding me out. A fun store. I was the 3rd customer of the day from out of town. Wait until my wife learns you can shop online.
I waited for the bus back to Hawthorne in front of a store that sells juggling equipment. My wife says that Portland is like porn for freaky geeks. I totally agree. I can't wait to move here.
More Wow and Maybe a Job.
Here in the Mt. Hood Room I sleep by this bank of windows that faces southeast. (For reference, the furniture has been rearranged and there's a double bed where they picture a bunk.) I woke up today and noticed this pink glow. I peeked out the window and saw the most amazing sunrise. Since the hostel is perched up a bit and I'm on the second floor the view was amazing.
The hostel reminds me of staying in Biker Boy's apartment, with that hippie herb-loving smell. The bathroom was scary and kitchen not clean to my standards, but somehow these quirks are comforting. I'm much happier here than I would have been in a sterile hotel. At least here I get to learn at the breakfast table that one of the men slept somewhere outside (porch, deck perhaps?) in his boxers in a mummy sack.
I spent the morning preparing for my interviews and researching one of the organizations. I got ready to go and before leaving the hostel I embarrassed myself and the nice Asian man who open the bathroom door that I had not locked. Well, one peak of me with my pants down at my knees for him.
I took the #14 to the #6 to scout out the state office building, the site of my first interview. On the trip I pass a gas station that sells biodiesel for $2.90 a gallon. Thought lovingly of my wife, who will no doubt make us trade in our Subaru for a used diesel Volvo at the first opportunity.
I had time to spare before my interview so I went to the nearby Lloyd Center, a huge consumer den of hell. It's your typical huge mall with food court and movie theatres where you can be accosted by a variety of kiosk sales people. The beauty, however, is that it has an indoor ice rink. I took my Starbucks mocha and sat in a comfy chair overlooking the rink and watched everyone skate. There were young girls and young men from beginners to advanced skaters. My favorite was this older couple, probably in their mid to late 60s, skating flawlessly and gracefully as a couple. While I was watching skaters, my 2:00 interview called to reschedule for tomorrow because the primary person was sick. My schedule for tomorrow is now jam packed.
I walked back to the state building and poked around in the lobby. One bulletin board announced that the building was supportive of breastfeeding moms and that a breastfeeding lounge was on the 8th floor. A handwritten sign on the door announced that a WIC organics meeting was happening in a conference room. There was a kiosk sponsored by the Lloyd District Transportation Association promoting commuting. Their ads resemble comics. My favorite was one that said: "The price of gas too high?" and it depicted a sign the following prices of regular, midgrade and premium gas: "Arm, Leg, Soul."
My interview went well. It was a scripted, screening interview that will be followed by a second interview with the Director. If I had known I would have tried to do the screening interview by phone and set up a 2nd interview with the Director in-person now, but oh well. Of course, they want to do second interviews next week and get someone hired ASAP.
When I came out of the interview, I turned on my phone and listened to a message from another organization wanting to discuss a position with me. I sat in the state office building lobby, had a long phone conversation with the woman and we agreed that I would come over and meet with her and her boss that afternoon. I hopped on the Max and was there 20 minutes later. I did their interview and met their staff. I think they would hire me, but they want to know if I'm really interested because the salary is below my minimum. I'm sure a long conversation with my wife will take place tonight.
I'm about to go to dinner a Vege Thai, reputed to have really good food, and a bunch vegan. After that I'm off to Food Fight Foods, an all-vegan grocer. I'll probably also stop off at Powell's on Hawthorne. I'm absolutely loving Hawthorne and I think we have to find a way to live in this district. All of the things I just mentioned are on the #14.
The hostel reminds me of staying in Biker Boy's apartment, with that hippie herb-loving smell. The bathroom was scary and kitchen not clean to my standards, but somehow these quirks are comforting. I'm much happier here than I would have been in a sterile hotel. At least here I get to learn at the breakfast table that one of the men slept somewhere outside (porch, deck perhaps?) in his boxers in a mummy sack.
I spent the morning preparing for my interviews and researching one of the organizations. I got ready to go and before leaving the hostel I embarrassed myself and the nice Asian man who open the bathroom door that I had not locked. Well, one peak of me with my pants down at my knees for him.
I took the #14 to the #6 to scout out the state office building, the site of my first interview. On the trip I pass a gas station that sells biodiesel for $2.90 a gallon. Thought lovingly of my wife, who will no doubt make us trade in our Subaru for a used diesel Volvo at the first opportunity.
I had time to spare before my interview so I went to the nearby Lloyd Center, a huge consumer den of hell. It's your typical huge mall with food court and movie theatres where you can be accosted by a variety of kiosk sales people. The beauty, however, is that it has an indoor ice rink. I took my Starbucks mocha and sat in a comfy chair overlooking the rink and watched everyone skate. There were young girls and young men from beginners to advanced skaters. My favorite was this older couple, probably in their mid to late 60s, skating flawlessly and gracefully as a couple. While I was watching skaters, my 2:00 interview called to reschedule for tomorrow because the primary person was sick. My schedule for tomorrow is now jam packed.
I walked back to the state building and poked around in the lobby. One bulletin board announced that the building was supportive of breastfeeding moms and that a breastfeeding lounge was on the 8th floor. A handwritten sign on the door announced that a WIC organics meeting was happening in a conference room. There was a kiosk sponsored by the Lloyd District Transportation Association promoting commuting. Their ads resemble comics. My favorite was one that said: "The price of gas too high?" and it depicted a sign the following prices of regular, midgrade and premium gas: "Arm, Leg, Soul."
My interview went well. It was a scripted, screening interview that will be followed by a second interview with the Director. If I had known I would have tried to do the screening interview by phone and set up a 2nd interview with the Director in-person now, but oh well. Of course, they want to do second interviews next week and get someone hired ASAP.
When I came out of the interview, I turned on my phone and listened to a message from another organization wanting to discuss a position with me. I sat in the state office building lobby, had a long phone conversation with the woman and we agreed that I would come over and meet with her and her boss that afternoon. I hopped on the Max and was there 20 minutes later. I did their interview and met their staff. I think they would hire me, but they want to know if I'm really interested because the salary is below my minimum. I'm sure a long conversation with my wife will take place tonight.
I'm about to go to dinner a Vege Thai, reputed to have really good food, and a bunch vegan. After that I'm off to Food Fight Foods, an all-vegan grocer. I'll probably also stop off at Powell's on Hawthorne. I'm absolutely loving Hawthorne and I think we have to find a way to live in this district. All of the things I just mentioned are on the #14.
Tuesday, December 13, 2005
Wow.
Not really sure what else to say. Day one has been quite something. It started out at a crazy 4am EST riding a Big Daddy Taxi to the airport. Once inside I got to watch TSA open and test their equipment because even the airport wasn't open yet. The flight to Chicago was uneventful, but I didn't get to rest or read as I thought I might. I was seated next to a woman who wore the same perfume as my grandmother and also resembled her in many ways. It was comforting in an odd way, even though I don't really have a great bond with my paternal grandmother. The woman sitting next to me brought her Shi Tzu on board in the same soft-sided carrier we have for our cat. The woman was very Christian and spoke about God a lot, but not in a bothersome way. Maybe because I would expect something similar from my grandmother. Anyway, turns out this woman and her dog are also on my flight to Portland. We have a fine time talking the whole way and she says she'll pray for me tomorrow when I'm interviewing. Who am I to complain?
I walk through most of Midway to get to my connecting gate and get to pass under the huge dinosaur skeleton which Mr. Man loves. I smile. I chill out for the next 45 minutes listening to tunes and reading. We board and I am in the 2nd to the last row and I think I'll dread this flight. I'm tired so I snooze for a bit and then they start a movie. It's Cinderella Man, a move I wouldn't ordinarily watch, but it's free and I don't want to read. I'm a sucker and its sappiness gets to me and I'm feeling all squishy for my family.
At this point I open the shade over the window and realize we're flying over beautiful snow-covered mountains. Not huge peaks, but rich textured ridges with sunlight and shadows making them crisp. I'm mesmerized and I stare spellbound for the rest of the flight. As we approach Portland, three giant peaks are off in the distance. Not sure which ones they were (Rainier, Hood, St. Helens?) but they were magnificent.
I was unable to pay any attention to the commotion going on behind me where a young woman passed out and needed medical assistance. I was simply looking out the window, listening to tunes. I can't wait to tell Mr. Man how beautiful and huge the Columbia River is!
After the paramedics removed the woman who passed out, I made my way through PDX to the Max. Couldn't be simpler - purchased ticket from machine and got on. Here's the poem that was nearest me:
"Every galosh is a glass slipper waiting to samba." - Willa Schneberg
Mr. Man will love the Max train. It's a "stretchy" bus for starters. It runs down the median of the streets, including down the middle of the freeway. People hang their bikes on these hooks. There are bike paths on every road I've seen, including those leading to and from the airport.
I get off the train and catch my two connecting buses with relative ease. A woman who rode the elevator with me after getting off the Max asked me if this was my first time on the Max. I asked her if I looked green. She said a little. Oh, well. I was just very happy to be in Portland. I admit it has taken me a bit to get used to the system and where to look for bus stops and figure out which direction I need to go, but I haven't gotten too lost yet!
I checked in at the Hawthorne Hostel, which is a cross between a co-op and a B&B. I'm staying in the Mt. Hood room, which faces the street, has great windows that let in lots of sunshine this afternoon and it overlooks the ecoroof, which is still growing marigolds! The hostel is right in the Hawthorne District, which is so us. I could live right here easily. Veg restaurants, fair trade stores, fun boutiques.
This is in stark contrast to the neighborhoods I scouted in the afternoon in search of some apartment possibilities. These neighborhoods were not fun and friendly with a sense of community. They were totally geared towards cars. Even though the Max runs right along the roads, it's a totally different feel with more emphasis on commuting than actually staying. Not friendly. So rule those areas off the list.
Not that we're looking to buy a house....but the houses are SO beautiful here. Great colors and textures and patterns. Not the midwestern neighborhoods I'm used to seeing!
I'm exhausted now. I had a great first day. Tomorrow I actually cross the river and go into the city for interviews #1 and #2.
I walk through most of Midway to get to my connecting gate and get to pass under the huge dinosaur skeleton which Mr. Man loves. I smile. I chill out for the next 45 minutes listening to tunes and reading. We board and I am in the 2nd to the last row and I think I'll dread this flight. I'm tired so I snooze for a bit and then they start a movie. It's Cinderella Man, a move I wouldn't ordinarily watch, but it's free and I don't want to read. I'm a sucker and its sappiness gets to me and I'm feeling all squishy for my family.
At this point I open the shade over the window and realize we're flying over beautiful snow-covered mountains. Not huge peaks, but rich textured ridges with sunlight and shadows making them crisp. I'm mesmerized and I stare spellbound for the rest of the flight. As we approach Portland, three giant peaks are off in the distance. Not sure which ones they were (Rainier, Hood, St. Helens?) but they were magnificent.
I was unable to pay any attention to the commotion going on behind me where a young woman passed out and needed medical assistance. I was simply looking out the window, listening to tunes. I can't wait to tell Mr. Man how beautiful and huge the Columbia River is!
After the paramedics removed the woman who passed out, I made my way through PDX to the Max. Couldn't be simpler - purchased ticket from machine and got on. Here's the poem that was nearest me:
"Every galosh is a glass slipper waiting to samba." - Willa Schneberg
Mr. Man will love the Max train. It's a "stretchy" bus for starters. It runs down the median of the streets, including down the middle of the freeway. People hang their bikes on these hooks. There are bike paths on every road I've seen, including those leading to and from the airport.
I get off the train and catch my two connecting buses with relative ease. A woman who rode the elevator with me after getting off the Max asked me if this was my first time on the Max. I asked her if I looked green. She said a little. Oh, well. I was just very happy to be in Portland. I admit it has taken me a bit to get used to the system and where to look for bus stops and figure out which direction I need to go, but I haven't gotten too lost yet!
I checked in at the Hawthorne Hostel, which is a cross between a co-op and a B&B. I'm staying in the Mt. Hood room, which faces the street, has great windows that let in lots of sunshine this afternoon and it overlooks the ecoroof, which is still growing marigolds! The hostel is right in the Hawthorne District, which is so us. I could live right here easily. Veg restaurants, fair trade stores, fun boutiques.
This is in stark contrast to the neighborhoods I scouted in the afternoon in search of some apartment possibilities. These neighborhoods were not fun and friendly with a sense of community. They were totally geared towards cars. Even though the Max runs right along the roads, it's a totally different feel with more emphasis on commuting than actually staying. Not friendly. So rule those areas off the list.
Not that we're looking to buy a house....but the houses are SO beautiful here. Great colors and textures and patterns. Not the midwestern neighborhoods I'm used to seeing!
I'm exhausted now. I had a great first day. Tomorrow I actually cross the river and go into the city for interviews #1 and #2.
Wednesday, December 07, 2005
More and Less
What she said with a little less pride, more dread for our house and tons more joy that the buyer for our house was approved for a mortgage!
This last week has been a whirlwind. Saw Melissa Ferrick in concert in a small venue and enjoyed Natalia Zuckerman's slide guitar. A good live show for my wife and I was a rare treat. Got my first call for an interview and did a phone screen on Friday, which went well. I hope to hear about moving on as a candidate this week. Meanwhile, my wife and I made the official plan to move as soon as we get a job, but if not, sell the house and move in early May. A tangible plan with a deadline has spurred me to action. I continue to apply for every position I can find. We've created an inventory of our belongs with a plan for getting rid of what we're not taking and a list of what we plan to buy when we get to Portland. I want to be in the House of Eris - West in '06 for the start of Mr. Man's 6th year.
Mr. Man and I enjoyed the frigid weather at our favorite nature center this weekend and the whole family and some friends enjoyed a great jam at the hippie restaurant in town with homegrown beer. Seems as we get ready to leave this city, it shows us its finest.
This last week has been a whirlwind. Saw Melissa Ferrick in concert in a small venue and enjoyed Natalia Zuckerman's slide guitar. A good live show for my wife and I was a rare treat. Got my first call for an interview and did a phone screen on Friday, which went well. I hope to hear about moving on as a candidate this week. Meanwhile, my wife and I made the official plan to move as soon as we get a job, but if not, sell the house and move in early May. A tangible plan with a deadline has spurred me to action. I continue to apply for every position I can find. We've created an inventory of our belongs with a plan for getting rid of what we're not taking and a list of what we plan to buy when we get to Portland. I want to be in the House of Eris - West in '06 for the start of Mr. Man's 6th year.
Mr. Man and I enjoyed the frigid weather at our favorite nature center this weekend and the whole family and some friends enjoyed a great jam at the hippie restaurant in town with homegrown beer. Seems as we get ready to leave this city, it shows us its finest.
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