Eighty Four Degrees and Counting

The sun is shining.  Right now.  The sun.  Shining.

To some of you, this may not be a big deal.  To Portlanders, this is a HUGEFREAKINGDEAL.  We spend all year trudging through puddles, wringing our clothes out when we get home, and grumbling about  the lack of vitamin D in our systems.  And we do it all for those rare occasions when this fair city shakes the rain water off and explodes in serious awesome...ness.

It's 84 degrees today and the people in this town are bursting at the seems with joy.  Every radio station seems to be playing only songs with the words sun, sunshine, or some variation of the two.  Roommate and I headed to Sauvie Island; it's only a short bridge away, but feels like you've crossed into some sort of Anne Shirley alternate universe.

There's berry picking, gravel roads, endless expanses of fields and farms, and a nice little beach along the Columbia River.  It's not exactly the blue waters/ sandy white beaches one might expect-- it's more like damp sand and straw nestled next to a murky river-- but it definitely has it's own charm.  Trust me.  And, to entice you more, one of the beaches is a naked beach.  Naughty bits danglin' all over the place.

Roommate and I laid out in that sun all day.  We read, sipped on cheap bear, and at snacks.  Nothing could've been more perfect.  She got a nasty burn on her lower back and the back of my legs turned a lovely shade of lobster.  But our Vitamin D levels were replenished and it would take a lot more to take us off that high.

The entire weekend turned out to be warm.  It was fun to see everyone stumbling out of their houses, bleary eyed and pale, shaking off the winder dust and walking into the warmth of summer.

Of course it's already raining here again, but at least we now have hope that 84 degrees can happen again.

Intimate Conversations

When I see Barcelona play live, it's like I'm intimately conversing with a a deeply important someone.  That means no interrupting or even looking my way while we're having our tete a tete.  Because I most likely have my hand laid upon my chest and a quiet look of admiration on my face.  I'd rather not have you notice that.  Thanks.

Here's a great cover they do of Across the Universe:

Never a Bride, Never a Bridesmaid

I have this friend from my childhood.  Her name is Caroline; we met when were three and spent our childhood and pre teen years together.  We read American Girl Magazine together, threw a baby shower for our news dolls (and required everyone to bring a tangible gift-- which they did), and planned our wedding days together.  We obsessed over boys, held each other after romantic disappointments, and wrote screen plays to chronicle our adolescent love lives. Thank goodness no copies of those remain.

It was around age 14 that Caroline met someone else.  A new girl named Amanda that went to her school. She was louder, blonder, and richer than I was.  I hate to say it, but that made a difference in our friendship.  Caroline's family was pretty well off and we just didn't speak the same language in that sense.  And I guess that starts to make more and more of a difference the older you get.  Pretty soon I was pushed away-- the girl that went to public school-- in favor of the her fellow private school mate who also had a big house down the street in their gated community.

We still went to the same church though, and got together every once in a while.  When we did, it was like being 10 years old again, America Girl Magazine and all.  In my mind, every reencounter with what once was a wonderful friendship would lead to a rekindling.  I'm not sure what it meant in Caroline's eyes, but it was never what I hoped.

I have a boundary problem, I've learned.  I generally invest way too much in people that don't give much in return.  I think Caroline was the beginning of that pattern.  I wasn't aware that it was a problem until I received a text in August that she was engaged.  I was thrilled, of course.  She was my best friend growing up and in many ways, I still thought of her that way.  I had even talked her through the beginnings of her relationship with Adam and was immeasurably happy to see how far their love had grown.

Then her list of bridesmaids came out.  I was not on that list.  I tried to explain it away by thinking perhaps she was having a small wedding (she has 8 attendants) or that it would be too difficult with me out of state (one bridesmaid is in Thailand, another in France, and another in Poland).  I was hurt, to say the least.  But I shook it off, trying to remember that it was her wedding and I shouldn't let my baggage get in the way of my happiness for her.

So, in an attempt to turn a crappy situation into an awesome one, I invited by heterosexual life partner, Katherine, to be my date, after getting confirmation from Caroline that I'd be receiving a plus one.  But after I RSVP'd for us, I received an email from Caroline saying they'd "overbooked" the wedding and I wouldn't be able to bring Katherine.  Shortly there after I read a blog post by Amanda's mom about Caroline and Amanda's wonderful friendship and how they have stuck with each other from their American Girl days to their joint engagements.  I was flooded with emotion.

All of it was the linch pin for me.  Truths came crashing down on me- if Katherine had been a boy, she would not have been disinvited (an issue in and of itself), I should have been asked to be in the wedding, or at least I deserved an explanation.   More than anything, I realized that I cared for Caroline in a way that would never be reciprocated.  So I started to wonder why I should put in time and resources to celebrate someone that apparently finds me rather inconsequential.

I talked to my mom about it and she said mom things like "You and your life are much more interesting than Caroline" and "You have such wonderful friends and people in your life that love you-- don't let this one person hurt you like that."  We came to the conclusion that there are aspects of our relationship that I value and memories I would never give up.  And I am still so happy that she has fallen in love with a truly great man.  So my parents will be my date and we will only go to the ceremony, after which I will go out dancing with Katherine.

Look at that, a mature response to a rather silly and juvenile situation.  I must be growing or something.  Well not quite.  I started an embroidered pillow for the newlywed's that I have since decided to with hold.  I have to get my passive aggression in where I can.

I think I'll repurpose the pillow-in-progress to look like something inspired by one of these from BlueClouds.  Because Caroline would've hated them and I they're pretty well amazing.  Maybe I'll give it to Katherine because she's such a wonderful friend.

Do you have any wedding snafus to share?  Ever been slighted as a bridesmaid, or have any bridesmaid horror stories?  As much as I love a good love story, I'm much more in the mood to hear about the dark side of wedded bliss.

Shelving an Obsession

It's hard to say why I have such a love of stranger's pictures of bookshelves.  It's possibly related to the fact that I have the crappiest bookshelf known to man, and that it hold less than half of my collection.  And yes, I did say bookshelf, as in singular, as in I only have one.  Blerg.

Anyway, I was excited to lean into my bookshelf lust with this lovely Flickr Group.  Shelves and shelves galore full of wonderful, exciting, and inspirational stories.  Love love love.

Here's some of my favorites:

maybe i have nothing to complain about and need to start working with what i've got.

What's your bookcase ideology?  Because I know you have one.  Do you organize alphabetically, by subject, or according to color?  Do you have a library, a stack in the corner, or a book shelf made out of plywood in your closest (ehem, that's me).  Are you a tidy or messy book keeper?  Spill all your neurotic bookshelf stories.  I'd love to hear them.