On Saturday Casey and I went to a brunch event that was put on by Portland Monthly Magazine and a local urban farm to raise money to build an Urban Grange. Soooo Portland.
Aside from the fact that it was for a good cause, the true fantasticness of it was that seven of the city’s best mixologists prepared their signature bloody mary’s for us to try and then vote on our fav. It was truly a tough job and an intense test of character to put myself through something that rigorous. Except no. Because I really love me some bloody mary. In fact, if I had a business card for my personal life it would read:
* Cheese Lover
* Bloody Mary Buff
* Occasional taker of showers
* All-around person
But yah, bloody mary’s are kinda my jam.
Anyways, the day was so much fun. Casey and I did our best to critique (and remember) each of the BM’s (<— that’s not right is it?) but sadly we missed the cut-off for voting. And wouldn’t you know it, the one we liked the least won. What a crock. Regardless, I’ll happily drink the worst of the best or the best of the worst bloody mary anytime.
[ 1. Shrimp in my bloody mary? Please and thank you every day of the week.
2. This is Casey’s face when something is too “horshradishey” ]
[ The judges table. My Everest. ] [ Cheers to all our fellow BMers out there! ]
On Saturday we went to a barbecue in the park that was hosted by some friends from MN who also now live in Portland. It was technically their yearly “Bratfest”, which is so perfectly midwest of them. They provided all the brats and tofurkey dogs and everyone else brought side dishes. Definitely took me back to my roots – although I have to say that I may prefer a Portland potluck over a midwest one. There tends to be a bit more fresh and a little less butter…
And here we go AGAIN with the amazing weather. That’s all I’ll say about that.
Since it was in a park, we thought it’d be cool to bring the Gus monster. By park standards, it was fine to bring him. But by socially awkwardness standards, we should have left him at home. We were totally those people with that kid. You know, the kid who’s screaming on the airplane or throwing a tantrum at Target or talking during a movie and the parents are just sort of sort of oblivious. But let’s be clear, we as dog parents weren’t exactly oblivious to Gus’s shenanigans – we’re just used to his eccentricities that apparently terrify/sound alarm to the rest of the population.
[ don’t let the smiling fool you… not for one second. ]
There of course was the howling – which happens anytime there is any other animal within a 100 mile radius of Gus. He will bark incessantly until they’re either out of sight or they come over and engage in the tooshie-sniffing dance for 8 whole seconds before Gus gets bored and moves on. It’s a lot of build up to not much actual interaction. But the howling… it’s cute at first because he’s so funny and beagle-y, and then it’s just not. So there was that. Pretty much consistently throughout the afternoon. We got a lot of side-eye action from the fellow brat-goers.
At some point, Casey and I got into a game of bocce ball and midway through we noticed that Gus was doing this… thing… where he snorts uncontrollably. It typically happens when he gets a little too wound up and in this case, I think it was a combination of all the excitement around him + the 80 degree weather because the snorting? It came out in full force. I’m going to say there was at least a solid minute of it. We’re so used to it though that it didn’t really phase us, but there were some other people at the party who were all “he’s overheating!” and “get him some water” and “is he choking?” and Casey and I were all “no”. All the
judgy friendly people learned their lesson when they tried to console Gus, at which point he was suddenly FINE and all up on their plates of brats and in their cups of beer. That boy loves his beer. I mean, it was nice that they were concerned but we unfortunately knew better. Gus is special.
Oh Gus. How can you be such a d-bag and so cute all at once?
Also, just a little public service announcement. Did you know that if you initially title a blog post “bratfesting” and leave it up on your computer, your co-worker will walk by and think it says breastfeeding? You’ve been warned. You’re welcome.
I definitely jinxed myself with all the talk of sun and weather is neat! in my last post because since then it’s been raining pretty consistently. Big deal though right… it’s Portland, it’s to be expected. However, when you bike to and from work most days, the rain can be a real beeotch to deal with. Yesterday’s bike ride home left me looking like something that was pulled out of a clogged drain. I.was.drenched. Luckily though, I had my trusty backpack cover to protect all my backpack goodies…
[ And by backpack cover, I mean garbage bag. ]
I’m sure I was quite the spectacle on my way home: hood on over my helmet, pants glued to my legs, feet slipping off the wet pedals, and giant garbage bag on my back. But again, it’s Portland – so I’m sure people just assumed I was homeless or collecting rain water on my back for my farm co-op.
This morning wasn’t so hot either. It wasn’t raining when I left home so I figured I’d be safe… but the Rain God’s decided to dump a few billion buckets of water down halfway through my ride. Again, drenched. I had to change immediately into the only dry things in my backpack – the result of which is that I’m now wearing yoga pants with heels. It’s really cute.
[ Yup, that’s Gus as my screen saver. I’m a proud mama. ]
I’ll save you the torture of looking at this rats nest otherwise known as my hair. Also, is it normal to find mascara on your earlobe after a bike ride? Bottom line, I’ve been looking pretty stellar for the past 2 days.
Maybe by writing this post I can jinx myself the opposite way back into some sunshine? Rain is awesome and junk!
The weather in Portland lately has been top notch. I’m talking 70’s and sunny for weeks now (with the occasional misty shower because it IS Portland mygosh) and we’ve been lurving it so much. Portland is great anytime of the year but when it’s nice out, watch out! The hipsters love to come out and play in the warm weather. And we happily scamper alongside them in our skinny jeans and tank tops and wayfarers.
Why is it so much easier to just, like… live, when it’s nice out? Like no matter how bad work is or how much yard work you have to do or how naughty your puppy is being, it’s always easier to deal when you’ve got a bright shining blob of vitamin D shining down on your skin. Or in my case, my see-through winter skin. Which is now turning a lovely shade of red due to unevenly spread sunscreen while doing yard work. But who cares because SUN.
You know what else has resurrected with this warm weather? My pure, unconditional love for ice cream cones! Good lord, where have they been hiding for the last 5-7 years? We recently found a brewery/restaurant near us that has vanilla ice cream cones on the menu and holy bananafins – it’s like ice cold butter. Don’t judge me – it tastes like actual heaven. Pure clogged artery heaven. As I type this, drool is hitting my keyboard. So f*cking good. Sorry for the swearing but this cone deserves it. Also, can someone manufacture just the bottoms of ice cream cones? Everyone knows that’s the best part. Every time I finish one I just want to start all over again. And sometimes I do…
Anyways, here are some pictures of us enjoying warm weathery things.
1. The fruits of our yardwork labor. Green bean plants galore!
2. Catching some rays with my little sidekick. Gus likes to lay down right next to me – I’m talking side to side – when we lay outside. It’s sweet. Also, sweaty.
3. Dipped. Not nearly as good as ice cold butter, but it did the job.
4. derp derp.
5. Beer tasting, always. This is also the place with the butter cones.
6. Fresh fruit is having its heyday at the farmers markets. I recommend eating it sliced, while wearing reindeer pants.
7. That guy. Supa cute in any kind of weather. Especially when he rides his bike all the way to my work because I locked my keys in my car (again). That may or may not have just happened…
Everyone! Quick! Go have an ice cream cone! But save me the bottom.
At long last, I bring you a few pictures of our new house. And by a few pictures, I literally mean 3. And by “new house”, I mean our new-to-us, 115 year-old house. Clarifications aside, we’re loving our sweet little abode. And regardless of the size, anything more than three total rooms feels like a castle to us. At least once a day Casey and I have a “where ARE you?” moment when we can’t find each other. Which is a crazy thing when we’re used to only having two rooms between the two of us. Because you know apartments: nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. But here in this house there are so many nooks and crannies to hide.
Let’s be honest though, it is an old ass house. So tucked into those nooks are bugs… and piled up in the crannies is dust. Our garage is about one stiff breeze away from crumpling to the ground and we’re not quite sure what we’ll find if we ever buy a ladder tall enough to get us into our attic. (I could get on board with a friendly ghost though, as long as he looks like Devon Sawa circa 1995)
Our house definitely has it’s issues but that’s what makes it special. All those flies? They’re our flies. All all that dust? That’s ours too. And our (soon to be) garage rubble? That’s gonna be killer firewood for the firepit we built a few weeks ago. S’mores for everyone! (Sidenote: we’ve made s’mores 4 nights in a row. Good thing we have extra space in this house because I’m going to need it for all my fat pants.) I’m so excited to see what kind of shenanigans we get into in this house. It’s gonna be friggen’ sweet.
So here are a few photos. We still need to furnish 95% of the house and there is nothing hung on the walls and and and…
Whatever. Take a peek. Also, come hang out with us everyone – and bring a fly swatter!
[ Living room : my favorite room. ]
[ Dining room : + Casey + Gus + peek into our kitchen ]
I will follow up with more pics of the rest of the house. Maybe let’s do this two rooms at a time? Because honestly people, it’s a miracle if two rooms are clean at the same time so…
And in honor of TBT, here’s one more pic of the day that changed our lives. Signing the dotted line for our very first home.
[ Larry Byrd was kind enough to make an appearance at our paper signing. ]