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Monthly Archives: February 2012

Awesome picture post is postponed again. In the meantime, please enjoy this mediocre one.

My household includes 1 photogenic cat who’s got a perpetual boner ready to make love to the camera,

1 inquisitive cat who insists on inspecting the camera up close whenever you try to get a shot of him,

and 1 cat with the most heartbreaking blue eyes you’ve ever seen until a flash is pointed at them, at which point they take on the most frighteningly demonic tint you’ve ever seen.


It was my plan to finally get some decent pictures of the last 2 this weekend and post them here, but after an hour and a half of deep satanic belly laughs and wiping orange hairs off the lens, I’m throwing in the towel.

Instead you get see this awesome tree in my neighborhood I was able to get a decent shot of:

…and listen to this soft rock song I’ve been playing on repeat all weekend while trying to get through work & CPA study.

In related news on the  turning-into-my-Gramma-before-my-time front, yesterday I caught myself gripping the steering wheel with both hands, tapping out the beat to a song on the radio with my thumbs.  I’ll probably start redecorating soon.  Shit, does Kirkland’s still even exist?


I Respectfully Disagree.

From an article in the Tribune (Portand’s most worthless periodical [which is saying something, given that the tragically dim-witted Oregonian and head-too-far-up-its-own-40-going-on-22-year-old-ass Willamette Week also make their homes here]):

Alyson Huntting recently injured her back after falling down some steps, and a doctor at Kaiser Permanente’s emergency room prescribed oxycodone.

It’s a potent narcotic, and Huntting didn’t like the side effects. She soon stopped using it, but was shocked to read this instruction in the pamphlet Kaiser issued with the pills: “If this medicine is no longer needed, dispose of the unused tablets by flushing them down the toilet.”

“It just blew me away,” Huntting says. “This is something that should not be put in anybody’s water supply.”

So I’m not going to make it to the coast this weekend, but I did manage to take a drive out along the Nestucca River road last Saturday.

I’ve never understood all of the hoopla about Oregon being so breathtakingly gorgeous.  The state has always looked to me like it was put together following some regulation checklist.  Snow-capped mountain?  Check.  Crystal-clear lake?  Check.  Dense green forest?  Check.  Rugged cliffs for Ocean to beat against?  Check. Lots of panoramic vistas, sure, but when you get up close you just don’t feel moved.  Like you’re staring at a postcard, is how Emily puts it.

A lake in Georgia might be murky and polluted, but that lake is dynamic.  It changes with the daylight, so there’s a whole pallette’s worth of difference between the lake you see on a summer morning and the lake you see at 5 pm in mid-October.  And the closer you get to it, the more nuance you see.

That crystal clear lake in Oregon just looks like a round bowl of clear water reflecting monochrome evergreen trees all day long in every singe season, no matter where you’re standing.

This is hard to explain well, and it probably has more to do with being raised on East Coast terrain than anything else.

But Goddamn if Oregon doesn’t have its moments:

There was a giant stag with 5-foot-wide antlers behind this fawn, but naturally he took off before I could focus the shot.  I’ve never understood why the does and fawns always stand closer to the road than the stags do.