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.

Luna Beast Strike Again!

After washing my bedspread, it took her less than an hour to get her dogness back all over everything.

She should be very glad she's adorable.

Pretty sure there's another dog under her somewhere

Stupid Slow and Steady

I've been at Weight Watchers just over a month now.  I have lost 9.8 lbs.

Is is just me, or is that not a whole fucking lot?  True, I don't exercise, but goddammit.  Just because I don't drink soda and didn't have any water weight to get rid of; you'd think my body would REWARD me for that.  I can't help it that my body is over 200 lbs of SOLIDNESS.  Have you seen my ass?  It could stop a train.  Seriously.  Smack me on my ass, as hard as you can.  I dare you.  I won't even feel it. 

Really, any progress is better than none.  I weighed in last night and I am 1.2 lbs away from my first goal of 5% weight loss.  So that's frustrating.

Perhaps I should NOT eat chicken fried steak for lunch.  Even with the gravy on the side.  Or y'know, I could go for a walk.

Sure.  I could do that...

What?  It could be hot...

No I promise. This was my dream.

Last night I dreamed that I kept shitting myself over and over.  And the only toilet I had access to looked like an Infinity pool and when I flushed it shot water all over my hotel room. 

In my extensive research to figure this steamer (heh) out, I ran across this interpretation:

Bowel Movement

To dream that you have a bowel movement signifies that you are successfully getting rid of your old habits/ways and thinking patterns. It is usually analogous to the release of strong emotions, such as anger or hatred.

To dream that you have a bowel movement in a public place suggests that you are expressing regret about something that you said. You may have spoken your mind a little too loudly.

I can't say for sure, but I think they're full of shit. 

Boom.

Animal Torture

Everyone said you can't put a sweater on a giant dog. I set out to prove them wrong.

Also...drunk.

My Brain Visits the Past

I have recurring dreams.  They are never the same dream over and over, but a theme.  They always used to involve my first husband, and me trying to get back together with him.  In the dreams I was living at my mom's house.  Except the one where we went on an adventure and got chased by a shark in a swimming pool. 

The last few weeks, I've been dreaming about high school.  This is a recurring theme for me as well, but not very often.  Last night I had two.

In the first one, it was graduation time!  Everyone was so excited.  The ex-bff and I decided to infiltrate the rival high school to see how they were doing with their graduation rates.  We went at lunch time and to our surprise, everyone that we thought went to our high school was at the other school.  And they didn't graduate for 3 more weeks. 

We felt very superior. 

We decided to check out how their lunchroom compared to ours.  To put it mildly, it was abysmal.  They had hot dogs and...apple crisp.  SO lower middle class.  But they were giving out samples, so that was interesting.  They also had a salad bar.

Really, Rival High School?  A salad bar?  In 1997?

And, as dreams do, it ended there.  I woke up at 4 AM, watched some Andy Griffith and eventually fell back asleep.

High school dream #2 was not so full of me feeling superior.

Once again, it was graduation time.  I was feeling very confident in my ability to leave high school, until I realized that I had basically skipped the entire last semester.  I decided to show up to the 2nd to last day of school to gauge my standing.  I had forgotten my locker combination so I had none of my books, and the teacher who replaced my math teacher gave me a 6 foot easel to carry that I lost. 

(I love dreams.  They don't have to make any sense at all.)

I got to English class only to be ridiculed by my professor for not having my book.  Or knowing anything about what was going on.  So, after class I figured fuck it and went home.

At home, both of of my sisters were in town for Christmas!  My parents were married and we were all living in the house I grew up in.  My niece Zoe was attempting to distract me, but being the observant person that I am, I noticed that my bedroom was completely pink.  My father redecorated my room as my present.  Pink carpet, pink bed, pink matched luggage.  I was soooooo happy, I could've died.

And then Dolly shit all over everything.  Giant, steamy piles of dog shit all over my childhood dreams. 

:)