Category Archives: portlandia

Aug5

Today was the hottest day Portland has seen in three years

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Today was the hottest day Portland has seen in three years

(With apologies to Edward Gorey, the alphabet, and poetry in general)

A is for Andy, asleep in his bed.
B is for brain, boiling hot in my head.
C is for Celsius, one million degrees.
D is for death, come quickly, and please.
E is for everything, it sucks, ’cause it’s hot.
F is for FUCK YOU THAT’S WHY, YOU BIG SNOT.
G is for Gawd damn why am I not dead yet?
H is for Hell, where we’ve arrived now, I bet.
I is for icky, our moods and our feet.
J is for Jenni, who perished of heat.
K is for Kelvin, another fine scale.
L is for losing our minds as we wail.
M is for Mama, who can’t even think.
N is for nightcap, but it’s too hot to drink.
O is for OH LORD WHY TODAY?
P is for playground, with water that sprays.
Q is a question, a prayer and a plea.
R is for romance, GET AWAY FROM ME.
S is for sunshine, we got too much thanks.
T is for thunderstorm, absent our ranks.
U is umbrellas, packed safely away.
V is vagina, dripping sweat all fucking day.
W is water, there’s never enough.
X is for xylophone, because x is too tough.
Y is for yellow, the sun in the sky.
Z is for zebra, maybe a stampede will come by.

Jun6

Wherein this becomes, temporarily, a “Mommy blog”

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Wherein this becomes, temporarily, a “Mommy blog”

Boogermonkey will be in first grade in the fall, and for a long time we’ve known that he’s operating on an academic level well above his peers. The official label for kids like him (99th percentile in reading, 91st in math) is “Talented and Gifted,” or TAG, and that distinction is fraught. You’re accused of bragging about your kids, teachers don’t often understand or have time or want to differentiate (even though state law says they have to provide work on their level & at their pace), and then people try to say that you are saying their children aren’t smart or whatever. “Everyone is gifted,” they’ll say. Or they don’t believe you when you tell them, “He’s reading The Graveyard Book.” They say you’re making it up to make yourself feel better, that you think you’re better than other families.

And you know what? FUCK THAT NOISE.

My kid is really fucking smart. And that is a fact. Just like he has curly hair and a wicked sense of humor and brown eyes and runs really fucking fast. I’m not trying to make anyone else feel bad when I say that he knows how to tell time & understands the concept of fractions, and if you do perhaps you should look into fixing those feelings of inadequacy because they are categorically not my problem.

What is my problem is where my child attends school. The school he’s at has very low ratings, both objectively from the state and subjectively from school ranking sites. There are kids in his class now, at the end of Kindergarten, who do not know how to count to 100 or write upper and lower case letters. Even average kids are getting shafted in a situation like that. Kids like Boogermonkey are going to get bored. He’s already getting bored. His teacher says he’s “very chatty” and doesn’t sit still very well. Only 15 minutes a day of recess will get any kid antsy. Jeez, lady. I can’t fix that. Did I mention there hasn’t been a single parent-teacher conference all year and there has only been one field trip?

Lucky for Booger, and for kids like him, our school district has a public charter school for TAG kids and he’s enrolled for first grade. A girl from his class is going to be his classmate and we went to the meetup at the school today. Dudes. There is a vegetable garden next to the playground. There is a Lego Robotics club. The PTA goes to Salem to lobby for better school funding (hello, legal issue close to my heart).

I can’t fix every school. Every school should have a garden and longer recess time and extracurriculars and frequent field trips and all the awesome stuff his school in Eugene had and his new school in Portland has, too. I can’t really do anything about the other schools until I’m part of the PTA going to Salem & lobbying for improvements, but I can and will celebrate when this one thing goes right.

Feb3

Things we learn by riding the bus

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Things we learn by riding the bus

“José isn’t bangin’ anymore.”

The statement follows a long silence and is said in a tone devoid of emotion or judgment.   No more good or bad than if the young man had said, “My mom planted tulip bulbs under her oak tree yesterday.”  It just is, and there is no explanation for why José has stopped bangin’.
Tentatively, slowly, as though I’m just looking around, I turn my head toward the young voice.

Skin smooth, the color of tanned leather, licorice black hair straight and slicked under a baseball hat with the brim flattened.  Pierced ears with large (fake?) diamond studs, thick gold chain, dressed all in red, clothes many sizes too large but in like-new condition.  He’s a cliché, a stereotype anthropormorphized sitting on the 76 at 12:30 p.m. on a sunny February Tuesday.

In the aisle seat, his friend makes a non-committal grunt and raises one thick black eyebrow.  His shiny, puffy black coat hides his thin frame, but his face, too, is young and smooth and tanned, eyes deep rich brown like Dagoba 82% Cacao under thick black lashes.  No hat, just spiked, gelled, nearly irridescent black hair defying gravity like so many antennae.  Like his seatmate, oversized deep navy denim pants.  Boys like this make me think of playing dressup in my mother’s closet all those years ago.

“Yeah,” the boy in the window seat says.  “I know ’cause Russ isn’t bangin’ no more, neither.  He’s kinda like a cousin, sorta, ya know?”

Another non-committal grunt from the boy in the aisle seat and the bus has arrived at my stop.  I smile at the pair as I exit through the back, squeezing my own son’s hand just a little too tightly, wondering what their mothers think of their bangin’.

Aug19

fun times

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fun times

Before I start with the recap of the awesome wedding we went to on Sunday, I have to share these pictures of Boogermonkey with y’all.

A few mornings ago, he was trying to put on my skirt. Of course, his chest is much smaller than my waist, so it kept falling down. I grabbed a chip clip from the fridge & pinned it in the back.

This is a pretty good visual representation of my older child’s personality

twirlyskirt.jpg

And then, last night, he decided he wanted to play dress up. With my clothes. Isn’t he pretty? I think pink is a good color for him. Also: that shawl? I MADE THAT! Swallowtail, by Evelyn Clark, Interweave 200x. Yes, I will add it to Ravelry, as soon as I get better pictures of it :)

OK, so now on to the wedding.

GORGEOUS wedding. Outdoors, on the one bearable day at the end of a miserable heat wave. A bit muggy, but muggy & 80 is a whole hell of a lot better than muggy & 95+ like it had been for a few days previous or muggy & raining like it was the night before & the night after. Llama & I went to college with Vaughn, he & Llama were resident assistants together sophomore year and continued hanging out with a core group of guys, playing video games like counterstrike (I hate that fucking game. 30+ guys playing it at full volume in one dorm with all their doors open: great way to make your girlfriend feel like she’s sleeping in a goddamned war zone). Vaughn is now a cop & about 1/3 of the guys are married, but we’re the only couple with kids so far. Booger & Gurglebutt stayed with LlamaMama for a few hours, which was nice because then I could have champagne without repeating “no honey that’s a grownup drink” a kajillion times. Hello, open bar. The Jen of the past would have been falling over, but the saner, happier, more mature Jen of now had a respectable two glasses.

Enough of that! Onto the pictures. Full set here. Any picture without Llama in it was taken by Llama.
Vows. The priest was awesome. Funny, irreverent, English, acknowledged that not all of us in attendance believed in zombies Jesus.

KISSING!

Husband & wife. Major bonus points for (a) not playing Canon in D, (b) not reading 1 Corinthians (they used Shakespeare instead), (c) not having a “unity candle.”

Dancing. There was a great dip at the end, but Llama had turned away at the wrong moment & didn’t capture it. They were so cute during this dance, though.

CAKE! The best part of all weddings, IMO.

Garter search. He spent quite a bit of time up that dress, lawl. There were little handcuffs on the garter, because he’s a cop.

Guys. Missing: Nick. Not sure where he is, no one really knows why he wasn’t there. The only time we see him is at weddings, and I was sad. Nick, honey, if you read my blog: CALL US. WE MISS YOU.

Off to the honeymoon! Disneyworld for a week.

Jun5

the pirates have returned!

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the pirates have returned!

someone close to our apartment has de-securitized their internets!  YAYZ!  pictures are trapped on my camera (where the fuck does that cord keep going off to?), but we’ve been having fun here in Portland.  Tuesdays are playgroup days with the local API group, Fridays are storytime days at the downtown library, where the librarian blows bubbles & sings songs that Boogermonkey loves.  Llamamama takes Booger on her days off & hangs out with him for a few hours, giving me a chance to breathe & spend time one-on-one with Gurglebutt.

Today Llama had off, so after running a few errands, we went to the Rose Festival.  I thought it would be more of a “celebration of all things Portland” and less a generic fair/carnival, but oh well.  Booger rode his first carnival rides & we saw these really awesome Irish step dancers.  We were too tired by the end of things to go on the pirate ship, but we might go back tomorrow afternoon if it’s sunny, since the ticket-takers weren’t in their booth when we showed up so I still have the admission tickets in my pocket.

May12

We just saved a bundle on our car insurance…

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We just saved a bundle on our car insurance…

When Llamaface’s stepdad died a few weeks ago, it gave us the kick in the ass we needed to get our insurance policies in order & start making a will.  Because Llama is a perpetual cheapskate, he shopped around for insurance.  Not only were we missing out on a number of discounts that our agent never told us about, there had been a claim made against us that he never told us about!  Two hours on the phone with various representatives later and the claim was closed, but we still switched.  Car+renter’s+life for both of us=what we were paying for only car & renter’s with the old company.  Anyone in OR need a good agent, just ask.  U of O alumnae get 5% off car & 10% off life.

Mother’s Day was awesome.  International Rose Test Garden, brunch at Old Wive’s Tales, 3 hours at the playground by the Rose Garden, a skein of poppy-colored sea silk from Knit/Purl, Goodwill for new pants (didn’t find anything, sad face), and dinner at Salvador Molly’s in Hillsdale.

Portland folk should visit.  The complex’s pool will be open at the end of this month.

Internet is super spotty.  Check the twitter (in the blog sidebar) if I don’t post that often & you’re missing me.  Or you could, you know, call me.

May4

settling

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settling
  • Addie’s right, I haven’t posted enough lately.
  • We’re moved in.  We live in Beaverton now.  Anyone wanting the address, e-mail me.  jen{at}gonzopants{dot}com.
  • Furniture has been procured.  We have a new couch.  Sayonara, ugly couch!  Hola, new pretty couch!  We also have an area rug and a coffee table.  I feel all grown up now.  I’ll do a photo tour once all the boxes are unpacked & random shit is put away.  Housewarming party will happen likely in June.
  • Llamaface will be working at the R$ in the Tanasbourne Village Shopping Center, if anyone local needs cell phone stuff, electronic equipment, or just wants to say hello to my sexay husband.
  • Sexay husband is, per my request, growing out his facial hair.  mmmmmmmmm.
  • I’m using internet at the clubhouse of the complex, stealing time while Llamaface hangs with the boys.  Free wifi, woot!
  • Library has been visited, as has Trader Joe’s.  Farmer’s market is next weekend, and I think I’m getting my sewing machine serviced today.
  • Inheritance money came through on Friday from Llama’s late stepdad.  Not a moment too soon, since we got the brakes redone yesterday.  Original brakes, calipers, etc.  After 123,000 miles.  Repair cost: nearly $600.  I thought we’d have to borrow the money from Nana, but now that’s not necessary.
  • The neighbor children are unruly at best and there’s profane graffiti all over the park equipment.  They also play in the man-made creek right behind our apartment, with no adults in sight.  Our downstairs neighbor had to pull a 2-year-old out of the pond last year.  My children will not be playing in the pond, kthnxbai.
  • Need to find a mom’s group to hang out with, need to find a doctor for the boys.  Need to find out where & when the closest stitch & bitch is held.  Need to turn in money for the community garden & start weeding our plot.   Farmer’s market next weekend & I’ll get starts for a bunch of veggies & definitely some strawberries, too.  I know NOTHING about gardening, other than “water it,” so any help, especially good gardening blogs (bonus: PNW gardening blogs) you want to send my way would be helpful.