Author Archives: Pamela

One thing I cannot get over is people talking on cellphones in public places. I want to accept this as it is clearly here to stay and I’ve thought a lot about it. If two people are walking through the grocery store having a conversation, this doesn’t bother me. But if someone is pushing his/her cart through the dairy aisle with one of those ridiculous cordless earpieces and jawing away in a one sided conversation, I want to rip his or her tongue out.

My biggest peeve is people yakking on public transportation. I get it, it’s dead time. Why not use it to catch up with friends or family? But I have to share an enclosed space with that person and I want to read my book or stare out the window without one or more people yelling into their phone in the background. Especially inappropriate interpersonal disputes like the woman at the (different public space) library (!) complaining to someone I am guessing was her spouse about being stuck at home with the baby.

Yesterday the woman next to me was doing the psycho call and as a woman who has made a number of psycho calls in my lifetime, (but thankfully, not for eons) I wanted to feel some compassion for her misery. At the same time I was super uncomfortable and trying to act like I couldn’t hear when everyone at the front of the bus could totally hear her in the midst of making The Call that is never a good idea.

The psycho call is the call you make after a relationship is over and the other person has clearly moved on but you have not. You make this call with the idea that it will accomplish some sort of closure, that you will have the last word, that you will show that you are the bigger person. In fact, you will probably say some of these things during the course of the call. But what you are really doing is being a psycho loser who wants an opportunity to say out loud all the nasty things you’ve been thinking about this person since the breakup.

Example from yesterday, “I’m glad you have a new girlfriend. No, really, I am. I hope you two are happy. A rich girl is just what you need until three months from now when you start lying to her. … No, I’m not bitter.”

Also there may be more than one call. In this case there was a call when she got on the bus which terminated during the bus ride but then she flipped open the phone and dialed and flipped the phone shut about 30 times (are you getting a sense of where this call gets its name?) and then resumed the call again near the end of the bus ride.

I should have grabbed the phone out of her hand and hit her over the head with it.

photo by nickherber

The other night I caught the last 15 minutes of one of my favorite cheesy romantic comedies of all time: The Cutting Edge.

I’m not a big fan of the Winter Olympics but I love figure skating although not so much that I follow it on a regular basis. If I happen to notice that there’s a major championship going on I might tape it and I’ll check the results online. Like turns out the 08 World Championships are going on right now.

The Cutting Edge stars Moira Kelly as a spoiled pairs figure skater. Her Dad, played by Locke, is really rich so she has her own personal skating rink and foreign accented coach but she’s such a shrill harpie that she can’t keep a partner and her people get more and more desperate to find her one so she can win the Olympic gold medal and eternal glory.

Enter the dreamy D.B. Sweeney as a hockey player who for some reason switches to figure skating. I can’t remember why and the wiki says he was injured and his peripheral vision was shot. Not sure it makes sense that such an injury would make you an ideal candidate for pairs figure skating but then none of this really makes sense so you just have to get caught up in the moment.

Of course they instantly loathe each other but their skating works and they really want to be in the Olympics because of all the fame. Quick! Name three sets of Olympic Figure Skating Champions. Can you do it? Me either and I’ve watched Olympic figure skating since the 70’s.

The whole movie is fabulous but the last 15 minutes, as is in any romantic comedy, the best part. I can’t remember exactly what happened but I think Moira realized she was in love with D.B. but then thinks he’s a womanizing cad after showing up at his room in the night. Brokenhearted, she decides that after their final Olympic program she’s going to retire from the sport and forget this foolish love.

Meanwhile, D.B. realizes he’s in love with this feisty-brat and so right when the official is calling them to come do their final program in the Olympics, he tells her he’s in love with her. It’s the most ridiculously fabulous confession of love in modern cinema.

She doesn’t say anything at first and they storm onto the ice and then as they stand there waiting for the music to start, she informs them they will be doing the Flying Petrenko (or whatever) this really dangerous move where he swings her around in circles by her feet and then lets go and she does a bunch of flips and twists and lands in his arms.

They skate in a curiously tiny Olympic ice stadium with close up shots of about 12 people, cheering. There are tight close ups of our heros and then incredible long shots of real skaters flipping around. And this is all intercut with their rivals, the Russians with their unfortunate hairdos, making sour faces.

I won’t spoil the ending (HA!) but a definite must see if you like cheesy movies and ice skating.

Later that evening I watched the latest episode of Jericho and there was my dreamboat D.B. Sweeney playing an evil badass. What happened?

Last month it was 16 years since I started working in Downtown Portland and I still love it. When the weather is good and even when it’s bad, I walk all over town to get fresh air, take care of banking, have my delicious Alexis fried cheese fix, try on wool pants, or have my favorite sausage sandwich from the midweek downtown farmer’s market.

When were down at the old office I would walk by the river almost every day in good weather. Like a regularly scheduled break, every day around 2p or 3p, I’d head out and walk by the river to clear my head for the last couple hours of the work day. I usually walk on the west side of the river but Eastbank Esplanade is nice too and it makes a big loop. I’ve gotten out of the habit at the new office but if it ever stops raining, I’m going to get back to that.

For one of the best birthdays I ever had, besides the one in Germany, we got a room at the Paramount Hotel and spent the afternoon hanging out downtown. We went to the Fox Tower cinemas to see a Wes Anderson movie, I think it was The Royal Tennenbaums, and then went to late night happy hour at Dragonfish for snacks and exotic drinks.

Whenever the family is town we always make a trek to Powell’s books. Go there first and pick up a handy walking map. Lucky for me I can go on my lunch hour. It’s a long walk, but do-able. I need to go this week because last time I was there I bought a book I already have and need to trade it for one I need.

One of my favorite downtown meals is paella at Southpark. They also have fabulous fish specials. Mother’s Bistro is also yummy for breakfast, lunch and/or dinner but really busy so you have to plan ahead. Bob and my new favorite dinner spot is West Café which is a couple blocks north of the museums and Schnitzer and where we go on our lecture night.

Bob and I are both museum nerds and belong to the Portland Art Museum and the Oregon Historical Society. Every once in a while I go to the museum on my lunch hour. It’s enough time to peek at the special exhibit or do a lap in the
Confederated Tribes of Grand Ronde Center for Native American Art.

I haven’t been in years but Saturday Market is a good spot for visitors. Lots to eat, look at and buy. Easy access to river walk and light rail. Voodoo Doughnut isn’t too far from the market, either. I also haven’t seen the Rose Garden in Washington Park in a long time but it’s a lovely spot to visit.

My friend Tonya and I used to meet for walks in Forest Park which is really nice. We haven’t managed to synch up our schedules since she became a successful independent businesswoman.

Bob and I sometimes drive over to Portland on Saturday mornings for the Farmers Market at Portland State. Actually, Bob more than I. He discovered that some of our favorite vendors from the Vancouver Farmers Market have switched to Portland. Tons of great stuff to eat even if you’re not taking a fruit and vegetable stash home.

I’ve always wanted to do the Shanghai Tunnel tour and I never have but a woman in my writers group has done it twice and says it’s really cool. I’ve also never been on the Portland Spirit because I’m not really into boats, but I walk by it all the time and it looks fun for people who like boats.

A fun day trip is to drive out into the Columbia River Gorge and check out McMenamins Edgefield for some food and a beer and a walk around to check out what’s going on there.

If you like wandering around looking in shops and grabbing random snacks, downtown is perfect for that or the Pearl which is where you find yourself if you go to Powell’s.

On the other side of the river is Hawthorne which is my favorite. There are also shops and stuff on Broadway around the Lloyd Center and out on Alberta.

Every time I re-read this post I think of something else but I’m going to make this my last addition: Old Wives Tales on the east side of the river is a great spot for breakfast, lunch and dinner and their menu includes items for special dietary requests including vegetarian, vegan and gluten-free.

Photostream From Mom’s Birthday is Up!

The first part of the group arrived on Friday evening and camped out at various locations.

Saturday morning Erin and my team drank tea and worked on our photo project. We had a bunch of photos from Aileen and Erin had scans from Dad and Grandma and I had scans from a never ending collection of old family albums that I am scanning. Or more accurately, not scanning but intending to. Scanning is tedious work.

Here Erin is playing an old game we used to call Anchovy Cliff Divers. She said the water was fantastic. (Just kidding)

Mom, Dad and Carole came over to our house and we went on an epic walk down at Frenchman’s Bar.

It took me about 10 minutes to lose the lens cap of my brand new camera because that’s the kind of irresponsible moron that I am. I offered a dollar to the person who found it and I won!

We took everyone to lunch at La Bottega in lovely downtown Vancouver where I insisted everyone try the gorgonzola cheesecake. This is an incredible appetizer consisting of the gorgonzola cheesecake which is light and tasty and served with polenta and a bit of marinara and you spread it on your toast. It’s a life changing appetizer.

Then it was time to make ourselves pretty, get our stuff together and head over to the Kennedy School.

I was sure to grab the history of the Kennedy School for when I wrote this up but I have no idea where it is. Here’s a quick summary: once it was a real working elementary school and now it’s a wonderful place for drinks, dinner and/or parties. You can stay in a guest room converted from an old classroom. Or if you live in the neighborhood you can stop by for a movie and have a slice of pizza.

One time, many years ago, Bob was off doing some sort of Bob thing. Maybe a concert with a friend or an out-of-town school event. I got this crazy idea in my head that I was going to go do something independent and unusual for me and go to the Kennedy School and see Seven Samurai.

This was a Sunday night and I found my comfy couch. The theater is the auditorium and it’s filled with couches and overstuffed chairs. I grabbed a piece of pizza and settled in, watching this classic which to be honest, was a tad slow for me.

I stuck with it, because it’s a classic and everything. And what do you know, there’s an intermission.

Hm, I think to myself, I wonder how long this movie is. So I’ve just settled back in my seat after a visit to the restroom when I overhear one of the people who works in the theater say that the movie is OVER THREE HOURS LONG. We weren’t going to get out of there until after 11pm. Why didn’t anyone tell me this sooner?

I got up and went home and I’ve never seen the rest of the movie.

Our party was in the Mina Parsons room.

We had a fabulous buffet with salmon and beef and all kinds of stuff. The food was really good. The wine was lovely, too. And believe me, I would know.

We had a nice turn out. It seemed like everyone had a good time. I’ve gotten lots of nice notes. I had a good time, too. Let’s do it again, only next time with less wine.

Man, there is just too much heavy stuff going on right now. Can’t write about it all.

The attorneys I work for have both been out of the office most of the last several weeks. Either I deal with stuff on my end or things pile up until they get back in the office.

This is co-worker’s in box.

Not scary you say?

Well, this is his desk. We’re trying to keep it all reeled in with the crises on the top of the pile. This week there are an unusual number of crises.

I have never been so grateful for a day off as I was today. I expected to have more time to dink around but it’s been more putting things back together. Cleaning out the fridge and buying food; catching up on email and trying to fix a situation (long sob story omitted); figuring out where things are at with the checkbook. You know, that daily living type stuff.

Uncouth Heathen asked about my favorite things to do in Portland and ALL WEEK I kept a file open on my desktop so every time I thought of something I would make a note and track down a URL so I could whip my post together this weekend. Left it on the office computer. doo-doo. It’s coming someday …

Last night we went out to a 10 star fantastic dinner for my sweetheart’s birthday and I have to confess I was weary and using all my efforts just to sit up straight.

Since I wasn’t in the mood for wine, I ordered a fancy fruity soda thing. It was bright pink and very sweet and delicious and I had two giant swigs before I noticed that it has caffeine. I don’t do caffeine, ever. But especially not in the evenings. Who adds caffeine to a pink girly drink?

I drank enough to make it hard to fall asleep. Nothing like being dead tired but laying there in the dark with your eyes open. Then it was my big morning to sleep in and I woke up at 6:30a. I closed my eyes right away and thought, “No! no!’ But yes. I was awake.

I got my sweetheart a surprise for his birthday. When I bought my new camera I bought this for him. He’s a fabulous photographer and a descendant of a fabulous photographer. I thought he’d enjoy having a something of his own to carry around.

I gave it to him last weekend since we were doing the big family thing. I said, “I got you a surprise for your birthday and thought you might like to play with it this weekend. Would you like to open it now?”

He saw the box and looked like a kid at Xmas and said, “Is this what I think it is?”

Then he opened it and made a funny face and said, “What is this?”

It’s not like he was disappointed, it just wasn’t what he thought it was. He thought it was Berlin Alexanderplatz an epically long movie that he says saved his life. I bought him that to open on his actual birthday which means he is the luckiest man alive.

Here’s his first photo set.

Today’s my sweetheart’s birthday. After work we’re going to dinner at one of our favorite local places, La Bottega.

Here’s Bob’s review of Sondheim and Rich.

Last night was our lecture night featuring Stephen Sondheim. Mr. Sondheim apparently doesn’t do prepared speeches so the lecture folks convinced him to come and do a “conversation” with Frank Rich. I’m not into musical theater at all. I was trying to think of the last musical theater I saw and I came up with Annie (80’s) and Jesus Christ Supertar (70’s and there’s a story there but no time to get to it now) and that’s pretty much it. Ever. There might be some school productions I’m forgetting but I don’t think so.

Regardless, the talk was WONDERFUL and I’m certain my sweetheart will post a great review later and I will update and link to it when he does.

My point is, I left my house yesterday at quarter to 7am and didn’t return home until 10pm. So, between the big party weekend and my body’s complete rejection of the notion of “sleeping through the night” along with a surprisingly busy work week, I’m still in zombie mode and am behind on everything and continue to phone-in my blog posts and prop them up with old family photos.

Here’s another classic which I estimate to be around 1970. Nice butt Grandma! I dig the car, too. This was from a trip to Hawaii. My sister thinks Mom was helping her with “her shells” while I’m grinning for Dad with the camera.

Check out my hot Mom and me. (I’m the one with the pacifier.) This is probably Zuma Beach in 1964.

Excellent weekend. Really spectacular. The party went great and everyone seemed to have a good time. I have tons of pictures which I will organize as soon as I can but probably not until the end of the week.

Yesterday I took the folks on a Powell’s run and it was the perfect day, sunny and nice without a coat even though I had a hangover so bad I wanted to die.

My dear husband wrote an item about his music selections for the party here. And he was quite a prince this weekend helping keep things organized, running around with last minute errands and picking up the slack when I was hobbling around yesterday.

Last night Mom and Dad and Priscilla came over for leftovers at our house and then Mom and Dad went off to the motel with the park & fly and they should be sitting in a plane right now getting ready to take off for Hawaii. Lucky.

I had trouble falling asleep last night and woke up a bunch of times, so still not quite feeling like my sparkling self yet. And of course I waltzed into my office to find a couple of forest fires so no slacking for me.

The difference between my sister and me is that I go drama queen in situations where she appears to be barely ruffled.

Many eons ago when we were in college we were on some sort of road trip. I can’t remember where we were going but we were in her car, which was originally my car, which was a 1972 Plymouth Duster that had once been owned by our grandparents. I could probably get at least a half dozen good blog posts out of that car. I’ll have to see if there’s a good photo somewhere.

Anyway, on this particular trip we were low on gas and this was the kind of car that went from a quarter tank to stuttering on fumes in a heartbeat. Knowing this, we took an unknown exit which led to the backroads and not a strip of gas stations and chunk chunk. We were out of gas. I immediately went into freak-out mode convinced that our very lives were at risk and days later people would find our bodies in a ditch.

My sister calmly told me to get out of the car. She locked it and grabbed the gas can (out of gas, not an uncommon occurrence) and off we went, no civilization in sight. Within minutes a car filled with strangers pulled up and offered us a ride. As I protested, “How do we know they aren’t blood-thirsty murderers?” my sister calmly ordered me to get into the car.

The world’s nicest people took us to the gas station and back to our car.

We lived on into middle age. So far.

I bring this up because she’s on her way here right now and just phoned because she got mixed up and went over a bridge she shouldn’t have. When I first moved to Portland I was perpetually lost. It took months before I didn’t cry when I ended up driving over a bridge I shouldn’t have. I was panicking for her, thinking “Oh no, how will she find her way?”

She phoned us from the car, completely calm. “What do I do next?”

And she’s good at fixing things. Why didn’t I inherit those genes?