Musings on Canvas Shoes with a side of Mom Don't Read This

I went to Portland last week for the first time in roughly eleven years.  I'm not gonna talk about that here, other than to say it was amazing, wonderful, best time ever, and I should have more thoroughly considered my footwear.  If you want to know more about my trip, buy me a drink and I'll be more than happy to tell you.  (Spoiler alert: I did not see any crazy clowns.) 

Needless to say, I did not track my Weight Watcher's points while I was gone.  I hit my 5% goal a week before leaving, then ate pizza 3 times before I left.  So, I'm not feeling too hopeful about tonight's weigh-in, but by gods I'm going anyway.  The nice thing about this program is that just by being accountable, it makes these minor setbacks seem not as overwhelming.  Which is part of taking control of what I eat. 

I have decided that when I hit my 10% goal, I'm gonna try and find me a man.  Not to put too fine a point on it but (to quote Carrie Bradshaw) I need to feel the weight of a man on top of me.  I'm a pretty lady.  Eventually I will be a pretty, hot lady.  I deserve to get laid by someone who appreciates me!  Boyfriends are over rated, but banging will never be so. 

My brain is working too fast for me right now.  Time to take the pukey pup to the vet.  Joy! 

Seriously.  Most pitiful creature ever.

Homeless Clown

Next Thursday, as many of you know, I will venture to the town that has held my heart for the last 11 years, Portland Oregon.

I'm excited beyond explanation.  It truly is my home away from home and I hate that it's been so long since I've been there.

To get everyone else as PUMPED as I am, I'm going to share a couple of my favorite stories from my time living there.

First, I would like to share the homeless clown story.  If you've ever gotten me talking about Portland before, you know this story.  But it's a good one, so shut up and let me talk.

In downtown Portland during the summer they have the Saturday Market.  It's basically a bunch of hippies who rent booths and sell their homemade handicrafts.  I got a pair of custom made clogs.  They cost $150 and they never quite fit right, but good gods were they gorgeous.  For clogs.  Milling around, you can always see the best of Portland.  Street vendors, hackey sackers, the little person who sits on his electric scooter between 2 buildings and comes out to ask for money when you least expect it.  My favorite was always the homeless clown.

Under the bridge next to the coffee shop where a lot of people congregated, he set up a little area where he would make balloon animals for money.  He was insanity at it's finest.  Dirty, muttering, his rainbow clown wig almost grey from filth.  My sister and I were in line to get coffee once (like ya do in Portland) talking to the guy who made my clogs.  His entire head was a giant tribal tattoo.  I bet he never regrets THAT now.  Behind us in line was Homeless Clown, muttering to himself.  All of a sudden he started screaming FUCK FUCK FUCK THIS at the top of his lungs and ran off.  From that point on, he had my heart.

At his balloon making station, he had a rug.  It was the kind of rug you would set by your front door for people to wipe their feet.  And like his hair and clothes, it was fairly disgusting.  Next to it on a chair, he placed a sign that said "It's a real rug.  You can stand on it."  

One day my 4 year old niece decided she would like a balloon animal, so we walked over to homeless clown and she, in her precious wee baby voice, asked for a giraffe.  Homeless Clown told her to stand on the rug.  She made no move, I assume because she realized the potential error of talking to Homeless Clown.  He apparently did not like this because he yelled GET ON THE RUG!!! 

She did.  She got her shitty balloon animal.  Next time, we went to the fat balloon maker.  He could make swords and crowns.

Obviously I have no idea if Homeless Clown is still there.  Would I even recognize him if I saw him?  What if he's wearing a disguise?

This turned out way longer than I was expecting.  So next week you will get the story of my only friend in Portland and the time she made me go hiking.