deliver us from weasels

If there is anything I hate more than snow, it is a city that is completely inequipped to deal with it.

Shutting down the city for over a week has had a direct effect on people's jobs/wages/businesses. etc.

There goes my effort to stop with the negative blogging.

As you were.

Prop 8 and the other anti-gay measures that passed are really killing my Obama buzz.

Oh, I know Obama said he is anti-DOMA, yada, yada, yada but I want to be part of his Agenda. Everyone is about to poop on themselves over change.gov and definitely I appreciate what he has done with that. I mean, hell, that was fast. He even has a little section for the Hunters and Anglers. Well, I would want to calm the gun owners down myself if I were him. It's really best for everyone if we keep them as calm as possible.

But hey, what about me and my people? The ones whose vote you could pretty much count on? Yeah, thanks a lot buddy:




Yeah, I see the hate crimes stuff. But you know what, I want more that.

Labels: gay, politics, whine

I love mail-in voting. Spreading out the voter guides, the Just Out and Basic Rights endorsements, the Anti-Sizemore fliers, and sitting down and pondering my choices on the ballot measures. Ends up I really didn't need to look too hard because some conservative group was kind enough to send me a flier that told me exactly who NOT to vote for. I appreciated that. There was only one overlap in the BRO/Just Out/Conservative endorsements.

As for the major elections, I voted for That One. Pretty much all the major races we gave money to someone -- because we are rich -- no because we have a stake in it and we are selfish that way. We gave the most to No on Prop 8 because even though we are Oregonians we have a huge stake in this and they need the cash.

Speaking of voting, guess who my conservative, racist, rural NC -living grandmother voted for. You guessed it: Obama. I almost fell on the floor when my Mother told me. She also voted against Liddy Dole. I am so proud of her. So Very Proud. At 80+ even she can see that Obama is our last hope. Does it have anything to do with me being a lesbian? Probably not. Or that she just lost the money she planned to live off of for the rest of her life? Possibly. But hell, she voted for Obama. And if she can do this, a woman who still believes black people should only come to the back door, then I have a lot of hope for this election.

I have a whole travelogue of our vacation with pics (a la EarlCootie) I plan to post at some point, but right now all we are doing is trying to get a long list of tasks done before the rain starts. One of these is this backwall of the bathroom. We learned a lot during this project. Whoo boy, did we learn a lot. I think if I had known about how much rot this house had....or how hard it is to paint shingles...or rewire a house...well anyway. This part is done enough. Also, some super exciting job things are going on, too. But not necessarily excting in a good way. Exciting as in, "wow, the US Economy sure is exciting right now!" Wheeee!

From a trip to Lost Lake, then to the SW Coast of Washington. A whole week off. I was so excited about the e-mail waiting for me when I returned to work, that I couldn't sleep last night.

I had an fascinating post planned, but right now I am tired. We did see a bear though. That was exciting.

Mwt and I broke with hermit tradition and attended 3 separate social events this weekend. I know, crazy.

One of these events was the Pie-off. The organization of this event was impressive, to say the least. There was a nice outdoor venue, the web site, even customized ribbons. But it was so well-organized and publicized that a week or so before I started to get completely psyched out by all the hype. I was concerned that I would be out pied. And I was having nightmares about Pie Failure. What started as a neat idea that would use my skills (hey, I know how to cook) and hang out with people like me, turned into dread and fear of failure.

My nightmare did not come true exactly. I did not actually go to prison and get forced by LeloNopo to make a pie crust from memory, but my crust had issues. And the other nightmare that my pie would be laughed at and humiliated was not exactly prescient either. I mean, I did not witness anyone openly mock my pie, but I could tell it felt small. And ugly. I make ugly food that tastes good. That is my special skill. But ugly food has no place among food created by professional caterers.

That's right -- there were professional bakers at this pie off. Now there were no rules that it was an amateur only event and I do not hold the organizers responsible for allowing my sad little pie to be thrown in among the pie sharks, but still. My little pie had no chance among the ringers. My simple bourbon pecan chocolate pie, based on a variation of a pie my grandmother (not a professional chef) made had no chance. It made me sad for the ugly little thing, sitting there among the pies with perfectly turned crusts, who were relaxing smugly in beautiful pie plates with their fancy ingredients awaiting their inevitable ribbons.

In a situation like this, you do your best for your little pie and you have to be willing to let it go off and make its own way in the world. But it's hard to do when of the 49 pies entered, some went to private grade schools and universities and traveled in Europe for the summer before returning to run the family oil business and were just stopping by the Pie-off as a quaint diversion before heading out to their summer homes for the long weekend. My pie did not have these advantages. Not that my pie was ashamed of working his way through state college, living in a tiny house, taking public transportation unironically, and supporting himself his entire life without any help or family advantages. There is nothing wrong with that. But where was I? Oh yeah, the Pie-off. Or, the Pie Fail, as we are calling it now.

So I lost (bet you didn't see that coming). But whatever, I'm not bitter. And some other pie won the grand prize. I can't remember what pie it was. I think it was a savory pie with a special ingredient that may or may not have been soylent green.

After the competition, the pie vultures swooped in and demolished the pies. My pie was partially eaten, so that was good. I saw Melissa Lion eat a piece and she did not die or spit it out (while I was watching), so that was a relief. But the pies that won were gone before I could make my way through the line. I never did get a good look at the top pie. I'm sure it was perfect in every way. But I'm not bitter. I am completely over it. Really.

Labels: cooking, portland, whine

What an emotional week. I don't know if it is me or the world (I like to blame the world), but I have been teary-eyed all damn week.

Mourning the passing of Del Martin. To say I look up to Del and Phyllis does not even get close. The thought of Phyllis without Del after 55 years. Awful. And I can only hope to have the same thing happen to me. You know?

The democratic convention. Yes, Hillary Clinton's speech was very moving and all, but Obama -- wow. And those adorable girls. I love that whole damn family. No, I don't agree with all his positions, and Joe Biden WTF? and I think he threw us a bone there in his speech with the GLBT reference. But I am excited that a black man not from the Establishment (yes, I read the NYer article, whatever) could possibly be the next president. And if he can do 25% of what he promised last night I am all for it. That speech made me feel all patriotic in a way that I am very uncomfortable with. And he is so damn charismatic I can feel it through the TV.

The family line continues. My sister is pregnant and today they found out via ultrasound that a problem they thought they had earlier has resolved and found out the sex. I cannot believe my baby sister is going to be reproducing. I am excited and worried and all sorts of things. I fear for how my family will descend on this baby, but whatever. I have knitting to do.


My job. In the midst of this I made an inadvertant power play that may cause future problems or future success. Who knows. Mainly, we all need to stay employed. Here's to the fuure labor of the witchtrivets household.

Ernest. Sick and at the vet for testing today. Poor little sweet thing. Well, he did eat my shoelaces last night...

So, the weekend. Whatever the sketchies are up to in my neighborhood will probably be distasteful, but at least I have three days to reset and reflect and, oh, work on the house.

Labels: corporateworld, family, lgbt, politics