Gucci Gucci!

I have to admit. There's a big part of me that wishes I could start a rap duo, perhaps a trio, a la Salt n' Pepa, and swagger around, make up some synchronized dances, and rap about things like wedgies, bum poop, and people who don't dance. Those of you who were at Chopsticks the night that Jocelyn and I attempted to recreate Shoop, know this probably isn't going to happen. However, if it does, I'm taking a page from Kreayshawn's book. I especially like the blond girl who doesn't really do anything. Her vague gestures and half-hearted lip-syncing are mesmerizing.

Don't Forget

 Agh! Sasquatch is here. It's my last year ever, yes I am making that ultimatum and I am very comfortable with it, so it better be good. With that in mind, I am going to pull all the wisdom garnered from years past, and not end up wet or shivering or hungry or thirsty or in any other way deprived. Checklist: Go!

1. Sunglasses: Preferably mirrored. Multiple days of dancing and little sleep means you end up looking pretty bad. Sunglasses hide half your face. This is good.

2. Tickets: Though many have forgotten or lost their tickets (Laurence!), it always works out in the end. That said, it's better just to have them in hand.

3. Snacks that are palatable at all times: Portable food is good but no pink salmon in a bag. No PBJ, it's just too dry. Fruit, trail mix and hot dogs. Ramen for late evenings.

4. Clothes: For all seasons. Overpack. Bring many pairs of socks and multiple pairs of shoes. If it rains and you only have one pair of shoes and they are converse and they end up getting all wet and stiff and abrasive, you will be sad you don't have an extra pair of shoes.

5. Random art supplies and notebooks: It's good to take notes. Treasure these moments.

6. Camera: Charged and ready. Last year I only had one day with my camera. It spent the other two in my tent with a dead battery. Never again.

7. Unexpected items: This always happens. You have to embrace it. You end up at camp with a Dora the Explorer pinata or a plastic picture frame featuring Vietnamese girls in 80s swimsuits and that's okay. It's part of Sasquatch.

8. All necessary players for camping: This means pump for the air mattress, poles for the tent, gas canister for the stove. Sometimes it's the supporting actors that stand in the way of true success. 

9. Hydration: I am going to bring lots of Gatorade, coconut water, and just plain water this year. And I am going to drink lots of it so I don't end up a husk of myself, capable only of half-hearted spirit fingers and toe shuffling by the end of the weekend.

10. Sunscreen: Even if it's not hot, we will still be milling about under UV rays for four days, leathering.

Happy Memorial Day Weekend !

Anticipation

Sasquatch is upon us. It always comes so soon, and I never quite feel prepared for the onslaught of music, laughter, dancing, late nights, early mornings, and hilarity that comes with it. This year, however, is different. I packed last night. Days ahead!

Obviously this was only Tier 3 Packing. Tier 2 Packing will occur the morning of and will result in at least five more random items shoved into my bag. Tier 3 Packing will occur five minutes before we leave and this will involve sheer panic and will result in inexplicable and useless items, as well as the last-minute stowing of things that I would not be able to live without (tickets, camera, chapstick, etc.).

So last night I put on LCD Soundsystem, went through my clothes, modeled my outfits, and danced. It's tricky. Danceablity, comfort, style, climate control: all these factors must be considered when selecting clothing for Sasquatch. I always want it to be nice and hot, but the weather forecast is not looking good, and even when it is, you can't avoid variability up there in the Gorge. So, I think I've packed the correct amount of things that I will wear because I want it to be warm, and things I need to wear because it won't be warm (see the abbreviated visual catalog above). My only goal is to not end up looking like a bag lady.

Code name: DH

The term DH was spawned this weekend on a sidewalk in Bend. Sam and I went over there for the Pole, Peddle, Paddle. I did the downhill and paddling portions and the whole thing went like clockwork. I began the race on time, so things went infinitely better than last year. We got 6th place and substantially improved our time! Not quite champions, but still winners.

But anyway, back to the dumplings. This thing happens when I get hungry, and it's totally horrible. I go from being a charming, intelligent young lady, to a mumbling, irrational savage. I am filled with despair. I give up on life. And woe to the person who happens to be with me, attempting to help (i.e. Sam). I am not going to do a complete reenactment of the situation because I would lose all credibility. Plus, Sam would probably feel misrepresented, as this is the sort of thing that deserves both sides of the story. These are the facts: Sam purchased a dumpling from a man with a food cart and a ponytail.  And then we got in a fight about the dumpling.

Even in the midst of this fight, I knew it was totally, obscenely ridiculous. The whole thing was so juvenile that I couldn't even justify it to myself. That didn't stop me from continuing on, bludgeoning reason out of the way, crossing my arms, and refusing the last bite of dumpling. Sam, in fact, threw the last bite away, because we were both too stubborn to eat it.

Once the dust settled and we walked away from the scene of the crime, we both acknowledged it was ridiculous and moved on with our lives. We got dinner and I became myself again. However, we have also discovered that if I am "dumpling hungry" or DH as it is now known, things need to be remedied quickly. For all I know, Sam is planning on packing Cheerios in a baggy for our next adventure out of town.

RIP Club 834

An era has ended. Club 834 has been a wonderful home since September 2009. Its University of Oregon-themed walls have seen the initial excitement of my arrival to Portland, combining forces with Heidi and decorating a new home, interviewing Craigslist roommates, Will's reign of terror, dust bunnies, R. Kelly on the porch, serious conversations over dinner, chaise lounge sleepovers,  Charissa's welcome presence, gardening and tanning on the berm, floor-shaking dance parties, Heidi's homemade fancy cocktails, potlucks, nail painting parties, and lots of laughter. I will miss Club 834. And living with Heidi and Charissa. It's the end of an era.

The big purple house.

Halloween at 834.

My tiny room was basically a giant closet.

Party on the porch.

Garden on the berm.

Reenactment of a photo at the Celebration of Summer Party.

Heidi at the Onesie Party

Stairs of doom.

 Where's Charissa? The Christmas edition.

Kewpie doll and dust bunnies