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From our correspondent in the wild

So I received a text from a friend last night. The text said: Hey first sighting of dumpy khaki butt in the wild! And there was the photo. I asked her to elaborate on the time and place and how it made her feel. The results you may read below. I like this. Feel free to join the foreign correspondent team. It makes me feel like the editor of a newspaper that reports only on frivolous things.


At first sighting of said pants* in the wild I was elated and shocked. The elation obviously was due to the timing of said sighting, and the relevance of their appearance. I was just entering the Tin Shed when it happened, and happened to be dining with my mother. The end result of the sighting, however, left me feeling as if one the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse had just decided to dine with us. The gravity of the moment sunk in as I realized that only too soon they would be ubiquitous throughout Portland, and in fact as I stared at the unfortunate heart shaped mom-butt on an otherwise nicely shaped woman, there was no denying that Ms. Wrong was right on target, and there was no other option but to snap a picture.

*American Apparel Riding Pant

Buy Local

The nice thing about living in Portland is that I can sincerely support local bands. It's wonderful. I'm sure not everyone experienced this, but when I hear "local band" I have this horrible high school flashback of creepers and leopard print and shitty, emotive punk rock played down at the community center with a bad sound system and all the girlfriends up front, standing awkwardly and toe tapping because it's daytime and they don't know how to dance and there are the two best friends who really want to mosh and know all the words and are rushing around bumping into the girlfriends while they cringe. And the standout memory for me is that the drummer of one of these bands only had one testicle, that's called cryptorchidism, or maybe it was just that he had two abnormally large testicles, but no matter. It was a stupid rumor and the point is, that sticks out in my mind more than the music.

So Dirty Mittens are playing with some other local bands (Reporter, Copy, White Fang) at Holocene next Wednesday (May 12). They had a show at Mississippi Studios a couple weeks ago, and it was so fun. So Fun. It's pop, but kind of doo-wop and there are horns (not usually a fan of horns, perhaps because of ska and Kenny G but it works for them) and I'm not going to go into some big explanation of what they sound like because you can listen to a song here.

Neigh

The things that really get to people are always a fascinating window into the psyche. For example, Alexa hates cake, people who eat cake, people who hate mayonnaise and apparently people who pick their teeth in public. Charissa can't stand men with tiny lady hands or men with tiny creepy teeth. Heidi hates convertible drivers in Oregon (I'm not sure if she makes an exception during the summer months).

I hate these pants.



They are spandex pants modeled on english riding breeches, complete with the reinforced knee for the serious equestrian. This annoys me for several reasons. You can get them for about $20 at any store that sells riding apparel and tack but American Apparel is charging about $70 for them. I have expressed how I feel about leggings but the devil continues to plague my soul by sending pantless minions out into the world with their short t-shirts and their camel toes. And because American Apparel is producing these, people all over Portland are going to be wearing them, and I am going to have to look at dumpy khaki butt all summer and probably all fall and winter too. Ugh.

Weekend o' Firsts

I don't even know where to start.

I lost $6. Turns out my years of hanging out with horses does nothing for me in the high class world that is Portland Meadows.

We created a new shot. It needs a name. It involves whiskey, real maple syrup and a bacon chaser.

I went to Broder for the first time. I'm guessing that means brother in Swedish, but it's definitely a guess. I had the smoked trout puff pastry thing with a baked apple. Rian got the greens as a side. Not recommended. I seriously think it was steamed lettuce. I do highly recommend the restaurant in general. And the plus is that now that I am old I wake up really early. We were there before the rush. We didn't have to wait on the sidewalk and sip cold coffee. I just walked in, sat down at an open table by the window and sipped hot coffee until Rian arrived. That was also a first.

We went to Mt. Tabor. Yes. That's a first for me. It's kind of shocking. I'm not sure why. I don't have a good excuse.