The PDX Experience

OMG Internets. O. M. G.

I just watched the absolutest worstest movie I have ever seen. And I have seen my share of crappy movies. Like Krull. And Amazon Jail. (Yeah, look that one up.)

But this one, this took the cake. Even as far as bad lesbian movies go, which are already bad, this was bad. And that is BAD.

It was called Maggie and Annie. Or annie and maggie. Or you know, two girls’ names.

First, it was a softball movie. Or at least it claimed to be a softball love story. Like as if the writers were having lunch:

Writer 1: “Hey, let’s make a lesbian romance!”

Writer 2: “Yeah, those are always easy fun! Don’t they like softball? Let’s make it a softball movie!”

Writer 1: “yeah, but we don’t know any actresses who can play softball”

Writer 2: “No problem. We’ll just film them standing out in the field and smacking gloves.”

So. Not one of the main characters was ever seen actually PLAYING softball. Standing in a softball field, yes. Yelling out encouragement, sure. But not one of them was ever seen catching, fielding or batting. There was some team of softball players playing, viewed from a great distance, like say beyond the fence at center field, but that’s about it.

Next, one of the main characters is married to a guy. A very nice, understanding guy, who didn’t freak when he finds out his wife is screwing her best friend. He even calls up the best friend, who had moved away to ‘let the flames die’, and suggested that they share his wife.

Uh huh.

Wait, it gets better!

The sex scenes were OH SO VERY LAME. They looked like two kindergarten girls playing dress up, except they were playing ‘two girls kissing’. There was lots of giggling and dreamy-eyed staring, and CRYING (omg who cries the first time they sleep with someone? Ugh). If I’d been one of those girls, I would’ve been all like “BITCH QUIT YER GIGGLING AND LET’S GET NASTY!” or something. Ok actually I don’t talk like that. Really not ever. But I’d be thinking it REALLY REALLY HARD.

And then. AND THEN.

So poor lesbian girl runs away to San Francisco (of course) to get away from the insane passion that she so (un) obviously shares with the married chick, to no avail. Married chick goes on and on to her husband about how depressed she is and how much she misses lesbian chick. And he just nods sadly until he finally calls lesbian chick and works out an arrangement to ’share her’ (like a nice car or something, right?). And lesbian chick is all happy and drives home, and gets hit by a drunk driver and dies.

OMG HOW STUPID RIGHT??! RIGHT!!!

So married chick is all like ‘I’d have been so mad at you if you died without me saying goodbye…”

Ok I hate her. What a selfish little bitch! She has this great guy, a little girl, and all she can do is go on and on about how depressed she is, when the poor lesbian chick at least has the decency to try to move on, and she didn’t have a family to turn to at night.

Bitch, please.

I’m gonna watch me some Underworld, Rise of the Lycans. I need to cleanse my palate.

See what being Internet Famous will get you?

Actually, see what being Internet Famous and not saying no will get you?

It gets you involved in amazing, fabulous, inspiring projects which suck all the sleep out of you.

Like this one.

Watch this spot.  No, this spot right here.  Right.  Here.

Video:

Streaming live video by Ustream

Chat:

Social:

I’ll be embedding the stream there for your viewing pleasure.  And if you tune in around 9:30am on Saturday, you’ll see me!  Yes, I’ll even be ON THE AIR.  Or the stream.  Whatever.  Followed by the variety show, which I’ll be running behind the scenes.  Only a fabulous charitable event such as this could get me in front of that many people and try to be funny.  And I will.  Try.  But please, I have a celebrity’s sensitive ego.  It squishes easily!  Because that’s what Internet Famous people do.  They have squishy egos.  Like a sponge, soaking up all the opinions about ME from everyone who of course is talking about ME.*

So, even though I’m permitted to sleep tonight (and really tomorrow night too, but don’t tell anyone)…I don’t think I’ll be able to.  Sometimes…it’s good to be wicked.  Famous.**

*You all do realize I’m joking, right?

**Just so you know, I don’t really think I’m famous.  Not in the least.  I know it might seem like I am, but I’m not.  Please, stop sending me money.  No really, you can stop.  Well ok, maybe after you send that last check.  THEN you can stop.  I mean it.

Something fabulous happened last night, my dear internets. It was so strange and surreal and well… Here. Read.

I’m at the Bagdad Theatre last night, watching Word to the Wise(men), a festive storytelling event full of scantily clad elves, cupcakes and music. That in and of itself is fabulous, I know. Being at the Bagdad and not running an event is kinda strange for me now, but some friends of mine were represented in this effort in various ways, and I was being a fangirl supportive.

I see a friend of mine walking over with a few other people, so naturally I go over to say hello. Thats what you do in these social situations, acknowledge people you like, right? See I thought so. Anyway, my friend introduces me to the guy with him: “Morgan, this is AGuy.  AGuy, this is Morgan.”

AGuy (sorry, can’t remember his name, it takes me a minimum of 7 times before I can remember peoples names, seriously you don’t?) anyway, he says to me as he grips my hand Very Tightly (the same hand I nearly broke on Thanksgiving, ouchouchouch): “Morgan? Like as in morganpdx?” I nod affirmative, slightly bewildered. “Oh man I LOVE reading your blog! You’re so funny and awesome and amazing and I want to have your babies!!”. At least that’s what I think he said. That’s what I heard, anyway. Which means, of course, that I’M INTERNET FAMOUS!!! I’M A FUCKIN ROCK STAR!

Funny, my chauffer hasn’t arrived in my Morgan limo yet. You get one of those when you’re Internet Famous, right? And a personal chef and personal trainer? I expect the checks will start rolling in Any Day Now.

yesterday was my birthday.

it was awesome.

i have more to say about that.  but not just right now.

i have the best friends.

and i am super lucky to have them.

if you have friends, and i hope you do…let them know they’re appreciated.

seriously.  do it.  you may not get another chance.  because tomorrow never knows.

I try very hard to live my life with no regrets.  I’m happy to say that I have largely succeeded.

However.

When I was 6, I started taking guitar lessons.  I still remember begging my parents to make that happen.  I went through several guitar instructors, entered some competitions (which I won) until the ripe old age of 10, at which point I told my parents I was done, for reasons I won’t go into right now.  I’ve never really regretted my decision, since I have worked hard to continue to have music play a large role in my life.

There was one teacher in particular who to this day, I will never forget.  He lived in a grand house with sweeping staircases, and we would have lessons in his library.  His library was an actual room with BOOKS in it.  He was very sweet and kind, and encouraged me to branch out into other musical pursuits, such as the violin and hawaiian style or slide guitar.  I thought he was the best thing ever.  My parents let me practice violin for a week, at which point my violin career ended.

So the other night, it suddenly occurred to me that I wish I had insisted to my parents that I wanted to continue branching out my musical training to other instruments like the violin.  And I also wish my guitar teacher who encouraged that hadn’t died of a stroke so soon after I began training with him.   I think my life would be very different now had he lived longer.

I think I’ll dust off my saxaphone.

Autumn sunshine and autumn leaves conspire to wrap my vision in blazing colors, filling the day with warmth like that of a roaring fire, a cozy wool scarf, a creamy mug of hot cocoa. As if to say yes, the heat of summer is leaving, but there is warmth in winter too. And oh by the way, here is summer’s Grand Finale! I pronounce my requisite oohs and aahs, and shop for pretty big mugs, and contemplate knitting with alpaca.

Welcome, autumn.

I love Portland a heck of a lot.  As such, I try really hard to be a good Portlander.  Using some highly scientific analysis (counting the number of tattooed folk in the wait line outside Pine State Biscuits on a Saturday morning) I have determined that Portland has the highest ratio of tattooed people per capita.  And since I have not gotten a bona fide tattoo in nearly 17 years, I figured I was GREATLY overdue.  So I called up my pal @camikaos, who is something of an expert on the local tattoo talent, for an artist recommendation.  She sent me to Jesse at BlackBird Tattoo on Killingsworth.

Now, I’m not one to get just any tattoo.  My tattoos must have meaning. Notice how I bolded that.  Because it’s important.  So after much deliberation, I got a sun on one arm and a moon on the other.  The sun goes on the right arm, the positive side, the action side.  The moon goes on the left, the negative side, the side of restraint.  These are somewhat Kabbalistic attributes.  Therefore, the words, in Hebrew, the language of Kabbalah: tshuka, passion, on the sun.  Izun, balance, on the moon.

The final product:

izun:balance

tshuka:passion

Two of the most important things to have in your life.  Without passion, life is empty.  Without balance, life is chaos.

Dating sucks.

No really, it does.  I know, I’ve been doing it a little over two years now.

It.  Sucks.  Ass.

Oh sure, you get to meet cool people.  Sure, there’s the prospect of that exciting first kiss, the quickening of breath, hearts racing and all that.  It still sucks, and I just don’t quite know why, or why I continue to do it.  I certainly don’t remember it being like this the last time I was single.  True, that was about 8 years ago, but still.  Maybe its the particular age group I’m dealing with now.  Maybe all the sane, stable, un-fucked up ones are taken.  Maybe I have old-fashioned ideas about dating.  Maybe I’m just looking in the wrong places.  Maybe “things are just done differently now”.  Whatever the case may be, I’m not Livin’ La Vida Loca, that’s for damn sure.  Dating seems to boil down to one thing: playing head games.

That is the one game that I really REALLY hate with a boiling passion am not fond of.

But what the hell.  Sign me up for that emotional roller coaster ride!  Yes, I ENJOY using my heart as a metal ball in the Dating Pinball machine.  If you’re not jaded and disillusioned, then you’re doin it wrong!  Hello, MultiBall!

Meh.  Meh, I say.

A friend of mine told me that relationships are overrated. That if hers ended, she’d just date and be single and happy for the rest of her life. She also told me she’s heard of lots of couples splitting up recently.

Well for her, and all the people thinking the grass is greener on the single side, here’s what I’ve learned after two years.  A few tips, you might say.  Or words of warning.  Take them how you will.

1. Don’t show any interest in someone you’re interested in. That makes you “needy”. Maintain an air of mild disdain for human connection, or risk being seen as weak. The more you like them, the less you can show it.  And the less you show it, the more they want you.
2. If you’re not dating at least 5 other people, you’re dangerous. Too available.
3. However, if  someone informs you that they’re dating 15 other people, you *might* want to consider leaving.
4. If you’re looking for more than a casual hookup, give up. Committed relationships apparently are no longer cool.  Whoa there partner…do you have FEELINGS about me?  Whoa, I’m not cool with FEELINGS, you know.  Now come over and let’s fuck.
5. Unless the connection is instant and overwhelming, it’s not worth your time. Slowly getting to know someone? Who’s got time for that?
6. People say in their ads/profiles that they’re ‘looking for friends, maybe more’. THEY ARE LYING.  If they don’t think you’re hot on first meeting, no matter how much you have in common or how much you hit it off, you’ll never hear from them again.
7. Speaking of friends: There’s no such thing as going directly from dating to friends if you’ve had sex.  Saying that “We can be friends!” is a lie created to distract you from the fact that you’re being broken up with.
8. You’ll want to learn the art of the passive aggressive text message.  Text is this generation’s sticky note on the bathroom mirror.
9. Never, under any circumstances, friend people you’re dating on Facebook .  Or Twitter.  Or LinkedIn, Tumblr, or any of the other 3 billion social networking sites.  If by some dumb stroke of luck you actually *do* end up in a long term relationship with someone, then MAAAAYYBBEEE you can consider the digital hookup.  Until then, however, keep it off the internets.  It’s safer.  Think of it as a digital condom.  Let’s be safe out there, people.
10. Realize that this is going to be a huge pain in the ass. Dating is like trying to organize a multilevel marketing scam but with the possibility of STDs and more booze.

But seriously, internets.  Dating just seems to bring out the ugly side of people, myself included.  I can’t tell you how many people have reached out to me on the various dating sites, and I take one look at the picture and delete the message with a shudder.  That makes me feel shallow and cruel - but I know what I’m looking for, and they have not met my standards. I’m sure I’d like those people.  I bet we’d be great friends.  I’m sure I have a lot I could learn from them; I believe that of most anyone.  But I don’t claim to be looking for friendship on these sites.  My mission is clear and focused.  Find people I’d like to date, and date them.  If we click a little, have fun.  If we click a lot, explore that potential.

Even more worrisome is that this casual hookup society I find myself in has truly shaken my faith in love.  I view it as a force , as a meta-force if you will; most forces can be described in terms of love or attraction.  I have faith in its inevitability, its power, its universal application.  But the fact that my experiences in the past two years are casting shreds of doubt in that faith shakes me down to my very core.  It scares me more than anything I’ve ever been scared of.  It threatens my foundations.

So think again before you throw in your towel and decide to become a hunter again .  It is not for the faint or the weak. As another friend of mine told me, encouraging me to just spend more time with my friends instead:  “Dating sucks!  We’re way more fun!”

“But Morgan!” you say.  “This post was called ‘In Defense of Dating’!  Not ‘Dating Sucks’!”

Yes, well.  I know, I sound a bit jaded and bitter.  I’m just doing a bit of dredging.  Believe me,  I still hold out hope, internets.  I’m a very hopeful type.  Perhaps one of you can convince me that there’s value in this twisted dance?  That there are people who don’t view relationships as a sport, to be won at any cost?

Here’s hopin’.

Thanks to my good friend Aaron, who brought his prodigious experience to bear on this topic, and to Michelle and her amazing Miracle in July for the Apture suggestion.  You both rock my world.

There’s this girl named Jessica.  She cooks me homemade lunches once a week, and delivers it to me on her bike.  It comes in a cute little homemade lunch bag, in repurposed glass containers with actual silverware and a soft cotton napkin.  She tucks sweet little thoughts on a piece of paper in my lunch. 

No, she’s not my new girlfriend.  She runs a little business called Yummy Box Lunches by Jessica.

I’d post her info, but…I might get jealous.  I mean, there’s only so much room in her little bike trailer, right?

Here’s my lunch from last week.  Try not to drool on the screen, ok?

Green salad w/blue cheese stuffed chicken breast & honey mustard dressing, polenta cakes w/parmesan & truffle oil, hazelnut & candied ginger chew.

What did I say about not drooling? Get your own Yummy Box Lunch!

Hi internets. How are you doing? Good? Great.

I’m actually not writing this blog post at home. Which by itself is not so strange, although it has been a while since I wrote a post away from home. What is strange, however, is that I’m writing this blog post ON MY IPHONE. I know, huh? I mean can you picture me, out and about, doin my thang and writing posts on the fly? On the train? While out drinking with my pals? Spelunking through the woods? Hanging out at a geeky blogging conference?

Ahem.

Yeah ok, I’m at a Wordpress camp, and learned about an awesome wordpress iPhone app. If you really must know.

And I can even take pics on my phone, and stick them right in my blog post without even skipping a beat. Or a talk. Or a beer. Or a dirty gin martini. VERY dirty.

The potential for awesome is endless, right? Yeah, I think so too.

By the way, this is where I am right now. So you can really visualize it. I’m all about sharing, you know.