Little known fact: the “Holiday Tree” that graces Pioneer Square in downtown Portland every year ships in pieces. The branches are all removed for shipping, holes are drilled in the trunk, and upon arrival workers insert the branches into the holes.
I went to the zoo with my nephew over the weekend. He had a birthday earlier this month too, he’s all of nine years old now, which means it’s still going to be a while before he gets my sense of humor and understands why his weird uncle laughs at the things he does.
He didn’t really say if he had a favorite animal or not, although he liked the birds that ate out of his hand, and it’s probably safe to say that he liked the otters, too. I mean, who doesn’t?
I think the organgutan that loped around inside of a waxed cardboard box might have perplexed him a bit. I’d like to think I got the joke, but I have a feeling those monkeys are the ones having a laugh at us.
And then…my camera ran out of batteries. WEAK.
I don’t even know where to start.
I could start with the part where I leaned over the railing after dinner to look at the people on the first floor of the restaurant, and said, “Those people are down there because they don’t even have blogs. That guy over there, what do you think his URL is? NOTHING. FAIL. It’s bloggers-only up here on the Mezzanine.” I mean, I could start there, but that was during the late half of the middle part.
Or I could start with the really surreal part, where we had drinks at Gilt where none of the waitresses are shorter than five-foot-thirteen, and then the Nine Tuxedo’d Men were seated across the restaurant from the table full of drag queens, and the in-bar movie was Jesus Christ Superstar, and tell about how we tried to eat the table’s centerpiece on the way out, which is why I walked all the way to Voodoo Doughnuts with a rose clenched between my teeth, but that part really should come further along in the story arc.
I could start further back, with barbecued ribs and Black Butte Porter and movies on Friday, or Wordstock the next morning, both with non-internet friends, all of whom I think the world of even if those selfish bastards can’t generate any traffic for me.
Or I could fast-forward a bit, to goblets of Gewurztraminer back at the hotel after all the bars had closed, or backtrack to the Vault with its wide selection of martinis, or skip to the part where I was invited to lunch at the TeaZone today, or wind back to breakfast at Besaw’s, where I think they make you wait to eat just so that apple-fritter french toast as a side dish sounds too tempting to pass up.
And I haven’t even touched on the waiter from Bellingham (not Bellevue!) who recommended the cheese, or the bottle of bicycle wine, or Powell’s on Hawthorne, or the pirate tattoos that came in the mail today.
Really, it’s so arbitrary where you choose to start, so I guess I could start three years ago this month when I started this blog, originally so that I could learn more about web technologies in the hopes that I might freelance some design work, and also to distract myself from the mind-crippling funk I was in at the time. I had no idea what it would all lead to back then, all the people I would meet (and those of you I have yet to meet!) and the cross-country adventures it would lead to.
As for where it ends, I hope it doesn’t, although this post should come to an end soon, so I suppose I’ll wrap things up by saying thank you, to everyone who stopped by to wish me a happy birthday yesterday and to everyone else too, just because.
Thanks! It’s been a blast.
Good morning, Internets. It’s been a while. I got you a sunrise.
With apologies to Scott:
Hello, friends. How are you today? Me, I’m getting older. Meh.
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