Category Archives: Creating Connections

House cleaning

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This is a post about cleaning house. Not like, you know, vaccuuming and mopping and dusting, although that is where it starts; more like cleaning out all the random thoughts and stuff lingering around in my head that I’ve been wanting to share. Stuff that just didn’t warrant a blog post of its own.

One of the things that sold me on my house was the wood floors throughout nearly the entire thing. They’re so easy to clean, right? I mean, with carpet, you never know what can be lurking beneath the surface of those little fibers. They remind me of cilia. Or, you know, the ocean floor. And we all know what sort of beasties can hide under there, right?

Ok ok maybe I’m exaggerating a touch. I don’t hate carpet. I quite like it in fact. But I digress. (I do that a lot, though. Oh look shiny! Anyway…)

So when I bought my house, I also bought myself a fancy shmancy vaccuum cleaner that claimed to do wonders with wood floors. I used it religiously for the first couple years. And then I quit. I don’t know what it is, but one time I just didn’t want to drag the whole thing out, deal with the cord leapfrog game, yell at my dog for attacking it, which 1. she’d been getting much better at, having figured out how to attack the switch that kept the bagless dust collector compartment attached and flipping it – I’m telling you, my dog’s a Freaking Genius, and 2. loudly, since of course the vaccuum is running, etc. I just whipped out the broom and swept. And discovered something interesting: sweeping is kinda cathartic. I find that my floors feel cleaner, since I know the broom didn’t spray crap out the back vent. I also start thinking about stuff while I sweep. Anyway. I swept my floors tonight, and starting thinking of all those little things I’d like to mention, such as…

What? It’s a new year?

Whoa, where did the year go? It’s been a year of lessons for me, emotional ones. A lot of growth, which is never bad. I may go into more detail at a later date on that. And I found out I’m going to get my very own nephew, complete with a Baby Decoder Ring and Binky accessories! How awesome is that? I’ve made some career decisions that may or may not have been good for me, but that remains to be seen. My dog somehow found herself on the news, Live @ 7 with Steph Stricklen, but then she is pretty damn cute. I bought an iPhone, restarted my blog after a 2 year or so hiatus, and met oodles and gobs of cool Portland tech and blog folk. Not a bad year. I wouldn’t put it on the top 10, but certainly the top….err..30. Ok ok 20.

Happy birthday to my adorable little pup!

im000103

Ahhh!! The cuteness! It burns!

Yes, the jessinator turned 3 this week. Happy birthday to this fuzzy little creature, my little life saver / loyal companion / partner in crime / exercise slave driver. You are one in a million! For her birthday, I took her to our doggy daycare, Dogs Dig It, and she got to pick out a free toy of her very own when I came to get her. She picked out a duck, which she’s been carrying around ever since. Well, as much as she carries around toys. It’s not quite like a ball, I guess. But she did carry it all the way out to the car before she forgot about it, and carried it all the way into the house before depositing it on the kitchen floor. It’s love, I tell you.

I had my mad skillz affirmededed

After much convincing from @djtv, (ok really not *that* much convincing), I signed up for a class on DJ Mixing at SPUN Academy. Taught by the one and only @MrBallistic, that veritable icon of old skool DJness and a fellow Twitterer along with @djtv, the class had us on turntables the first night. At first I was all, you know, thumbs. Or well, jerky. As in not smooth, and clueless. But by the end of the class I was mixin up some killer tunes and had the pitch control nearly figured out. Mad skillz, I tell ya. Mad. Skillz. Crap. Now I need a catchy DJ name. And Nita, if you read this, for the last time NO. Suggest that one more time and no mic for you!

And finally…

I enter this new year full of hope for the future, fearful of being disappointed once again, but determined to not let that stop me now, as ever. I leave you with a few words from those lovely English boys, the Chameleons, ever the thoughtful blokes:

It’s just coincidence / Well you can talk that way / But I have to say / I don’t believe in it / And with the chill of chance / I decided to dance / The days away… / But I wasn’t worried at all / Dreams are what you live for /

Here’s hoping dreams come true in spades this year.

Hebrew 101, or How to Survive Hanging Out with Crazy Israelis

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The next time you find yourself and/or your time appropriated by crazy Israeli friends, here are a few handy tips to keep in mind.  Hanging out with Israelis is NOT for the faint of heart.  There is a whole host of things that could go wrong during these types of situations.  You could suddenly find yourself acting like you just left the Israeli Army (and we all know that Israelis fresh out of the army are especially crazy!).  You could find yourself totally ignoring common American customs and niceties, like standing in line to order drinks at the bar.  Imagine the poor barkeep as you and the crazy Israelis you’ve taken up with converge en masse, without any form or courtesy.  Sad.  You may even find yourself spouting Hebrew swear words without any guidance on proper usage!  I urge you, proceed with caution.  Here are a few handy tips that will ensure a (relatively) painless experience.

  • Tip #1: Confusion
Sufficiently

Sufficiently confused Israelis. Notice the look of wonder and consternation as water is squeezed from outer wear!

If you’ve ever seen the movie Gremlins, you can appreciate the transformational power of water. Much like the cute little Mogwai, when exposed to water, turn into aggressive little meanies, so do crazy Israelis, in reverse fasion, become more complacent and easy to manage when confronted with a classic Portland rainfall.  A little extra waterspray from Multnomah Falls doesn’t hurt either.   It clearly confuses them, how so much water can fall out of the sky.  Mind you, they are primarily desert dwellers, so this confusion is understandable, and clearly to your advantage.

 

  • Tip #2: Mesmerism
Amazingly enough, it took very little effort on my part to divert their attentions. Crazy, I know.

Amazingly enough, it took very little effort on my part to create this photo opportunity. Crazy, I know. They might still be there waiting for service if I hadn't talked them down.

 There are all sorts of strange and wonderful things around that will mesmerize Israelis on the prowl.  Thinking as they do that Americans are the crazy ones, they will often see things they find unusual.  Encourage them to investigate.  The photo opportunities afforded to you by their antics will amaze even the most hardened critic.  Remember to always keep your camera handy!  If they realize that you are attempting to document their craziness, they may attack.  Stay calm, and inquire how to say the thing they were mesmerized by in Hebrew.  If you’re lucky, they will stop their advance and pause to discuss amongst themselves how to say such a thing in English.  Which leads me to my third and final tip…

 

  • Tip #3: Diversion
All the Hebrew I know

All the Hebrew I know

In extreme cases, a very simple and effective tactic to maintain control in the presense of Israelis is linguistic diversion.  Be sure to indicate that your knowledge of Hebrew is minimal at best from the outset, whether or not that may be the case!   Simply point to some nearby object, and say “Hey, how do you say <object> in Hebrew?”  They should commence to discuss between themselves how to answer.  If you’re quite lucky, you may happen upon a term that doesn’t translate directly, which should occupy them for an extended amount of time.  (One especially confounding term for them is ‘volcano’.)  Use this only as a last resort!   While this approach is very simple, there are some extremely dangerous repurcussions if used incorrectly or too often.  For instance, if your Israeli friends start to think that you’ve developed enough of a vocabulary, they may start to quiz you.  Should this occur, stay very calm, and screw up as best as you can.  This should hopefully throw them off, and they will back down.  However if this does not work, your last option is this:  Throw up your hands, exclaim “yalayala!” or “yala balagan!”.  Be prepared to run away.  Also be prepared for a night of partying.  It could go either way.

I wish you all the luck with your crazy Israeli friends.

Z’hirut, and Peace.

eTown PDX, or How I Nearly Got Ejected From the Schnitz.

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If you know me, you know that my personal muse is Sarah McLachlan.  I regularly abase myself at her feet and quiver with inspiration and yes, lust.  Figuratively speaking, of course.  Oh if only…  Seriously, to my knowledge I have been to her show every time she has graced our beloved P-Town in the past 6-8 years or so.  I never miss a chance. 

So imagine my amazement and excitement, listening to NPR in late October/early November, when I hear that she’s going to be in town at some radio show taping PRACTICALLY ON MY BIRTHDAY.  omgomgomgomgomg!!!! 

After I peeled myself off the ceiling (you have to understand, I haven’t seen her in quite a while, I’ve been overdue!) I looked into the details.  She was going to be one of the guest performers on eTown, a radio show syndicated on NPR (I wake up to NPR these days, although I’m thinking of switching back to 94.7.  Gotta switch it up, right?).  Whatever, I thought.  eTown shmeTown.  It’s Sarah, and I’m goin.

So a friend and I got tickets, and showed up at the appointed hour, for a live taping of this eTown show.  Turns out it’s normally taped in Boulder, Colorado, but they occasionally go on the road and do live tapings in other cities.   Their mission statement is as follows: “etown’s mission is to educate, entertain and inspire a diverse audience, through music and conversation, to create a socially responsible and environmentally sustainable world.” Ok, cool. Nifty.  Very Portlandy, in fact.

I had no idea just how Portlandy.  Apparently they give out an award called an e-chievement award during each show.  Listeners from all over the country send in tales of individuals making a difference in their communites, and from these inspirational people they select one each show to win this award.  At this particular taping, they invited all the prior Portland winners of this national award to attend, and stand up as they were named.  I swear, half the audience were winners.  The hosts, Nick and Helen Forster, informed us that there are more e-cheivement award winners in the greater PDX area than ANYWHERE IN THE COUNTRY.  Yeah.  Portland Rocks.  I knew I loved it here for a reason!  The winner during that particular broadcast was Ed Kerns, who started the Lents Springwater Habitat Restoration Project.  The man is wheelchair bound, and he has single-handedly organized and fostered this fabulous effort, and one which impacts not just my city, but my neighborhood, in a truly meaningful way.  I love the Springwater Corrider Trail, and I bike it often during the summertime.

But back to Sarah and me nearly getting kicked from the Shnitz.  I mean…hello, iPhone right?  You expect me to sit in the presence of my muse, one of the elite few who musically inspire me, and not take pictures?  Me, amateur photog girl?  Shyeah.  Not gonna happen.  I gotta try.  A few fruits of my labor:

Sarah rockin' out!

Sarah rockin' out!

I've seen her so many times, I am familiar with her expressions. This is my favorite. No I am not a stalker.

I've seen her so many times, I am familiar with her expressions. This is my favorite. No I am not a stalker.

The whole cast. Sarah's on the far right, tickling those ivories.

The whole cast. Sarah's on the far right, tickling those ivories.

So, here I am taking these amazing shots, from the very farthest back row no less.  Along comes Ms. Usher, who informs me in no uncertain terms that if I do not cease and desist immediately, I will be ‘asked to leave’.  Ah, the dreaded asked to leave line.  So I wrapped up the iPhone and my friends camera.  Sorry Sarah.  Sorry eTown.  Sorry Schnitz.  But you know what?  The pictures I took that night will mean way more to me than any professional swag I could ever hope to purchase.
The show is going to be broadcast during the week of Jan 21-Jan 27.  Listen for it.  I was there.
Coming up next: Hebrew 101, or How to Survive Hanging Out with Crazy Israelis.

I <3 Portland

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I love this town called Portland a heckuva lot.  So, in honour of the upcoming 18th anniversary of my arrival in this great town, I thought I’d toss out a list of five things I love about Portland.  I know, the usual list number is 10. However, I tend to espouse, at great length, about things I like, so in the interest of keeping this to a nice, blogworthy length, I opted for half the items, but all the love. So here it is…5 things I love about the city formerly known as Stumptown.

#5: Rain.

rain

Rain. Duh.

 What?? What did you say? Rain, are you serious? This, from the girl who lists as one of her most traumatic childhood experiences being caught in a NYC deluge? Yep. It was an epiphany level experience when I realized I actually kinda like the rain now.  Let me clarify: I like Portland rain.  Not torrential downpour, soaked to the bone southeastern US rain, no way.  But the misty, pervasive showers, the gentle sprinkles, they cleanse the air and don’t make me feel like I’m about to drown, which is how I felt during the above mentioned deluge.  Granted, I’m a bit taller now, so my fear of drowning by puddle is somewhat reduced, but still.  Also, the myth (Yes!  Myth!) that Portland gets oodles and buckets of rain keeps people away, because we all know that once they get here, they never wanna leave.  Like me.

Powell's Books

Deep in the stacks @Powells

#4: Powell’s.

Ok I know what you’re all saying.  Yawn.  Of course Powell’s is on the list, EVERYBODY puts Powell’s on their list, can’t you be original?  From my perspective though, I keenly feel the humongous slap upside the head that Powell’s is to other major book sellers (::cough:: Barnes & Noble)  Some of my favorite things in New York when I lived there were Blimpie for the subs, catching a Mets game at Shea Stadium (insert heartbreaking sob here), and going to Barnes & Noble.  B&N seemed like a reader’s mecca to my young, book-loving soul.  Plus, it was in New York, so how could anything else possibly measure up?  Now picture me walking into Powell’s the first time.  No lie, I swear I could hear a choir of angels.  And I remember thinking, clear as if it was yesterday:  “Barnes & Noble, you SUCK ASS.”  Thankfully, my appreciation of Blimpie subs faded long before that.  My Mets fandom however…I’m sad to say is still alive and in mourning.

#3: Dogs.

Jessie

Jessie @ the Sandy River

Portland is not the number one dog-friendly city in the country.  I find this extremely hard to fathom, as does my dog.  She has a tendency to get quite squeaky in the car when we pass by locations of particular canine interest that she likes.  Therefore, she tends to maintain a fairly constant level of squeekiness as I drive around Portland.  Between our usual hangout at the dog park at Mt Tabor, the constant dog cookies the mailman brings, the occasional splashdown in the uber dog-friendly section of the Sandy River, the thrice-yearly baths at Lucky Lab Dog Washes (Dogtoberfest, Multnomah Dog Days, Tails & Ales)…the list goes on and on. 

 (Err, correction, Jessie says that the Lucky Lab dog baths are NOT on her list of faves.  But they have beer! I insisted. And live music!  And free doggy samples!  She just glares at me.) 

There is nearly always some dog-related event going on around town.  Not to mention all the dog parks scattered throughout the metro area (Mt. Tabor is our fave!)  So what if they’re not exactly welcome on public transportation, like they are in Chicago or whatever.  Or Austin Texas.  Really??  Austin Texas??  Portland dogs are loved, and everyone knows it.  Screw the rest of the ‘we love dogs’ cities…if I were a dog, I’d want to live in Portland.

#2 Nature vs City.

Nature in the city, how I love thee…let me count the ways!  I love how Portland has so seemlessly blended the need for expansion with a very green sense of the need for parks, and greenspaces, and community gardens, and, well, nature within the city limits.  I mean, just consider some of the bigger natural spaces within the city:

Cherry tree near Lloyd Center

Cherry tree near Lloyd Center

That’s the short list.  It doesn’t include the hundreds of city parks and recreation spaces scattered all over.  I’ve never lived anywhere in this city where I wasn’t within a few blocks of a park, and all super nice (at least during the day…).  Having such a plethora of natural spaces, I think, creates oases of calm for a city’s residents; a place to recharge, to introspect, to run and play and love and think.  Perhaps that’s one of the reasons Portland is so progressive, sustainable-conscious and green:  There is evidence of nature’s power everywhere you look.  Nature is perpetuating itself in Portland.

#1: Community

Some of my friends

Some of my friends

I’ve lived in a lot of places, but I’ve lived here in Portland longer than anywhere else.  I remember coming to a realization once, long ago, while living in Syracuse NY (aka the armpit of NY state.  Trust me).  I realized that no matter where you go, where you lay your hat down at night, that the place you live really makes very little difference in your life, when you boil it down.  The place is not you, and you are not the place you live in.  It can have its effects, true, but they tend to be minor; the thoughts you have and the life you live and the problems you face are universal.  I was convinced that that was a statement of truth.  Not anymore.  There is something about Portland, something about the particular combination of sun and sky and rain and mountain and ocean and desert that make up Portland and the Pacific NW that surrounds it, that make it truly a unique place.  And it attracts truly unique people.  Never in my life have I encountered so consistently such caring, thoughtful…good people.  I have had good friends while living outside of Portland.  But never so many, who are so dear to me, and who I would honestly entrust with my life and those things I treasure the most.  I love this place, and all the people in it, whether I know you or not, because you make Portland what it is.  I will be happy to die here, someday.  Um.  Someday not too soon, that is.  Dammit where is that salt…anyone have any wood I can knock?!?

Well there it is.  5 things I love about Portland.  Love Portland too?  Then get involved, and get out there and enjoy it!

Good stuff.

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One thing I’ve learned about myself as time goes by…I write WAY more when I’m down and feeling crappy and bleh and stuff.  When things are going right, I don’t ..well..write.  I guess only one right/write can I handle at any moment.  But I feel kinda remiss about not writing about the rightness, or increase of rightness at least, that’s going on for me.  Especially when I’ve unloaded so much wrongness in this space!

Um…so I’m feelin good.  I smile when I look in the mirror more and more.   I’ve met some really cool people and been strangely emotionally intimate with these relative strangers, and that’s been …ok.  Good even.  I’m starting a business!  oh em gee!!  I’ll probably do a nice little plug on here for it soon, as soon as my website is closer to being done.  So yeah.  Life is good, I’m envisioning my beautiful backyard every day, and soon you will all be invited to feast on my new patio and enjoy the tranquility of it all.  Just wait until you see it, it’s awesome.  I can’t wait 😀

Canine Sociology 101

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So you all know that I love my dog.  I especially love watching her deal with new dogs, because it amazes me how she’s able to handle pretty much any dog that comes her way.  Case in point:

We’re at a dog park playing fetch.  Enter stage right: new dog, about her size, kinda brown/fawn colored, with owner.  Looks like a big jack russell with maybe some german shepherd thrown in for spice, and colored like a pit bull.  Jessie ignores new arrivals like she usually does for the most part, her motto is “See the ball, be the ball, ignore everything but the ball”.  She’s in the middle of running back with said ball when new arrivals reach the edge of the field, and owner removes leash from new dog.  Jessie arrives at my position, and after her usual 10-15 seconds of chomping on the ball to transfer the maximum amount of droooly happy dog slobber, drops it and prepares for the next volley.  New arrivals are pretty far away at one end of the field to the right, while we’re in the middle, so I launch the ball with my trusty super Chuckit across the field, in the same direction as new arrivals but to the left corner.  And now the fun starts.

New arrival takes off after Jessie like a rocket.  I’m not sure if it’s the ball or the running dog, but it’s making a beeline straight for her.  Jessie doesn’t notice until she reaches the ball, picks it up, and starts heading back.  She sees new arrival tearing for her and stops dead, ball in her mouth.  New arrival stops dead as well, about 15 feet away.  The eyeballing begins.

Jessie stands just looking at new arrival, occasionally chomping her ball.  New arrival stands looking at Jessie, with a kind of possibly aggressive/possibly playful but certainly jumpy stance.  Jessie’s stance seems pretty neutral.  After about 20 seconds of staring (no kidding!) Jessie makes a move to continue to bring the ball back slowly.  New arrival shoots forward, and Jessie stops dead again.  New arrival then walks over to her, and starts sniffing at the ball.  Jessie stays completely still, and after about 2 seconds drops her ball in order to lick at new arrival’s muzzle – a clear calming signal.  New arrival seems to relax a bit, and jessie takes a shot at a friendly butt-sniff.  New arrival is pretty jumpy still, and twitches.  Jessie just stands there, not looking at the dog, while it checks her out.  Apparently satisfied that she poses no threat, but understanding that there’s no interest in playing, new arrival trots off towards owner (who was not paying any attention to this whole exchange).  Jessie watches new arrival until he/she is obviously not interested in her anymore, goes back and picks up her ball (she almost never forgets her ball!), and proceeds to run back to me, slowly at first, but picking up speed. 

And that is how my dog deals with all dogs she’s unsure of.  It’s amazing how she completely smothers any aggressive interest any dog has ever exhibited towards her, without being a total “lay on her back and show her tummy” submissive dog.

Another thing I’ve learned about dog communication is that everything that a dog would do to say “Hey I wanna be friends, maybe you could chill out and then we can play huh?” are nearly exactly what a cat does to say “GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!!!”.  Which causes some fairly major communication breakdowns in my house, and generally makes my house pretty lively on occasion.

Aren’t pets great?

Retreat!!

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Just came back from a retreat this weekend.  It was really good.  But strangely, I don’t really feel like talking (or virtually talking) about it.  Maybe later.  I think I just need to process everything I learned, everything I took in, before I can share it.  Suffice to say that I spent the weekend working on my values; what they are, and what they mean to me.  It was …good.  There’s four weeks of followup as well, which is nice.  It would be hard to do the kind of inner work that I started this weekend, and then be sort of dumped off at the end with a ‘Good luck!’ and that’s it.  There might even be further opportunities to continue with other groups after that, which I think will be qutie helpful.  And with that … I’ll leave you to ponder exactly what sort of cult I have joined.

A funny thing happened at work today…

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…well actually yesterday.  You see, there’s this person at work.  They have been the BANE OF MY EXISTENCE for nearly two years now.  They go behind my group’s back, second guess everything we do, claim to be an “IT expert” even though they are in a totally non-IT position, and generally makes a huge nuisance of themself.  The kind of person, when they call or email everyone rolls their eyes and says “Oh, great.  It’s so-and-so.”  I’ve gotten to the point, in fact, where I will not even communicate any longer with this person, choosing to hide behind my supervisor (who lets me) and our business analysts (who think they can handle them). 

So what’s funny you ask?  Well..I’ve never met this person.  Not ever.  If I was standing next to them in the grocery line, I’d have not the faintest clue.  Until yesterday, that is.

I get sucked in to THE PROJECT.  I tried to avoid it for as long as I could, but I finally had to buckle down and do the work.  But I got it done.  On time.  Cuz I’m just that good.  Anway…the clients (one of them being this person) wanted to have A MEETING because they were confused over how to use my easy-to-use program.  I was dreading this meeting, because I knew it would be the first time I set eyes on THE NEMESIS, and I was concerned that I would not be able to keep my mouth shut, and I would say something I regretted.  Yeah, this person makes me that angry.  And then…

They were nice.  DAMMIT!!!!  I HATE THAT!!!!  They even gave me a hug and said what a great job I did.  ARGH.  I mean, that doesn’t change the fact that we were manipulated into doing this work, but still…I can’t hate them anymore.  And I’m pissed.

Ok I’m not *really* pissed…just…I knew that would happen.  I knew it.  And I mean, what does that say about our preferred methods of communication now (email, phone, email, text, IM, email)?  So much is lost in the technical translation, that what may very well be innocent or well-meaning or honest communication is so easily colored by interpretation.  It reminded me just how important, how necessary face-to-face communication is.  So next time you want to chat with a friend, or talk to a loved one…do it in person.  You’ll say so much more without saying a single word then you ever could with an email.

Jack’s Back! Well sorta.

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I went to the vet today to pick up Jack.  Jack in a box…forever.  I’d been putting it off for quite a while (see date on prior post), and not just because I still have to pay the 170 bucks that I don’t have (and totally forgot about!  ouch) and I decided I was ready to deal with this next step.  And you know what…I feel better.  It was actually kinda nice.  I mean, he’s in a white cardboard box, taped shut, and I know he’s in a plastic bag inside that box, since Jasper went the same route a year ago, but…he’s back.  He’s back, kinda hanging around the house now (well, on my counter).  I have my Jack Pot all ready to go, and I just need to find a Jack Plant that likes ashy soil (any suggestions?).  He’ll have to stay Jack in the Box until I can find the Jack Plant (this is actually getting kinda fun!) to put in the Jack Pot, but he doesn’t mind.

He’s almost as well behaved as he was before he died!  Just not quite as affectionate.  But still..welcome back Jack!

(Please do not call the local mental services to pick me up.  I’ll be alright.  No really.)

Transition time again

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I am in the middle of my personal transition time.  It comes every year, although some years are more impactful than others.  But every year, between the days of January 6th and January 9th, something, somewhere, happens that affects or will affect me.  For instance:

  • January 6th, 1990 – I get on a train in Boston with all my worldly possessions.
  • January 9th, 1990 – I arrive in Portland, Oregon for the first time.
  • January 6-9th, 1995 – My cat Jack was most likely born sometime around this date.
  • January 6th, 2001 – I met my recent ex.
  • January 9th, 2001 – We have our first date.
  • January 6th, 2006 – My dog Jessie was born.
  • January 6th, 2007 – I begin to recover from a crippling, soul numbing bout of depression.

I know there’s more, and it started with that train trip.  The pattern didn’t emerge until later, although for the first 5-6 years I would always remember on those days, that fateful train trip.  Something happened to me on that trip – I knew that within a few months – and it changed me.  I felt a shift in my psyche during that trip, I felt more grounded, more in touch, more thoughtful, more …aware.  And apparently the ripples of that experience are still…well, rippling.  Ever since I stopped consciously commemorating those few days, those days things happen to me.  Not every year, not that I can tell, but they’re usually good.

So the short version is….I’m feeling better.  Maybe it’s because I started working out a few days a week.  Maybe it’s because I’ve had good friends call me and say hey I want to hang out with you, just because, and we stole a wicked cool ash tray from a place called Chopsticks III .

Or maybe…it’s the power of those four days. 
I think it’s both.