PONYtales

Veering Off Course

2009-04-08T00:07:00.002-04:00

A few thoughts after reading Friday's article in the New York Times about visiting Portland by bicycle:

- Why does the old gray lady always focus on North/east Portland? They did mention Hopworks on Powell, but visually, the photos are from the St. Johns and Broadway bridges and the intersection by Beaterville. I like it up there, too, but when did that neighborhood become the representation of the whole city? Then again, maybe I shouldn't complain, since the newbie transplants will all move there and leave Southeast alone. Wait, I'm moving to NE soon...nah, below Broadway doesn't count.

- Love the mapping program at byCycle.org, the bicycle version of the subway lifesaver HopStop.

- I wish I had known about Portland-based documentary Veer (which follows five local cyclists) when it was still hanging around Portland theaters. Instead, I'll have to wait until it comes home from screening at Lincoln Center on May 5.

- Maybe tell people where to rent bikes in town! For my New Yorkers, when you come to visit, we'll start here. And we'll rock and roll around town!

PAUSE 2.0

2009-03-29T19:35:00.003-04:00

Maybe I'm a flake who can never manage to start something she starts. Maybe I'm lazy. Whatever (big "W" gesture with my thumbs and index fingers). I don't feel like writing about Portland anymore. I still love Portland. I still love New York. And who knows...maybe I'll be inspired again to blog about it/them. But for now, I'm just going to enjoy spring in Portland, the most beautiful time to be here, and not spend time in front of my computer trying to record it. I still love ponies. And I'm still "blogging," maybe on a smaller scale, at Percolating (random thoughts and camera phone photos) and Subway Reading (coming soon!).

Sushi Shocker

2009-03-06T20:41:00.006-05:00

Photo of Sushi Takahashi from EverywhereMag.com

I was amazed to find out the other day that Kristen never knew about conveyor belt sushi joints until she stumbled across one in San Francisco. There are NONE in New York -- how can the epicenter of international cuisine and food gimmicks not be home to at least one of these?? Not being a huge fan of sushi, I only went to my first one last summer with a former co-worker, where I got a kick out of picking only the cheapest color-coded plates, which also happened to me my favorite Japanese restaurant staples: edamame and gyoza. There are so many of these places in Portland I can't even begin to name them all (what's your favorite?). Jeez, there's even one in our newly remodeled Hawthorne Fred Meyer! Which I admit made me laugh out loud since it's looks so randomly out-of-place in the middle of a grocery store deli. (Side note: Entertaining to read the Twitters about the remodel, and it appears I'm not the only one who was surprised by the sushi boats.)

Anyway, this whole shocking turn of events got me thinking about the unique little features of Portland and New York that the two cities don't share. This blog is loosely about trying to figure out how exactly to define the common energies of the two places. But since I'm trying to choose between them, maybe I should examine what each offers that the other can't. Starting with conveyor belt sushi. Stay tuned for an ongoing old-school Excel spreadsheet to examine this further.

PAUSE

2009-03-05T16:45:00.004-05:00

When I started this blog, I wasn't a fan of diary-style blogs, full of mundane day-to-day activities that, really, only the person writing cares about. And I'm still not. But I softened my stance to write about my trip to New York, since I felt the experience would be, well, PONY-centric. And it was! But since I seem to be changing my mind about everything every single day, especially where to live and what to do with my life, I think it's time to put my personal revelations on the shelf for a bit until I get them sorted out for my self. So back to the posts about Portland and New York, not necessarily about me. There's plenty to talk about, you'll see! And if you're curious about what else I'm reading/seeing/thinking about, check out my random new Tumblr blog, Percolating. Thanks for reading!

Split Personality

2009-02-28T19:07:00.000-05:00

Here I am, the last day of February, back in Portland. It feels good to be surrounded by my stuff (even though I desperately need to purge) and cuddle with my cat. I am dying to see my friends and catch-up. There are three concerts I would love to go to in the next week, new restaurants that opened in the past two weeks, and no sales tax. It's good!

I wanted to go to Bunk Sandwiches for lunch today. Maybe because the last time I went, I was reminded of New York thanks to the Woody Allen shrine by the cash register and the stray copies of the Times to read while waiting for hoagies with hot peppers:

Too bad it was closed by the time I got my act together to head outside. My last couple days in New York were all about finding delicious and cheap lunch. Porchetta was my first stop on Wednesday. With just a tiny counter and a few bar seats in the window, the East Village spot reminded me of Bunk or Pine State, tiny and relatively new Portland outposts of one kind of food (sandwiches and biscuits, respectively) done really well. Porchetta, if you don't speak Italian, does pork. And nothing but pork.

You can get the delicious stuff in a sandwich (just bread and meat) or on a plate with beans and greens. Simple, tasty, and wow, filling – I think I could only now eat more pork after wolfing down that sandwich three days ago.

I think the bacon/ham/pork trend is reaching its saturation point in the foodie world (though it probably has at least six more months to hit backlash in Portland), but I will always be a fan. It is just soooo good!

The rest of Wednesday: My first time in Queens to visit my friend Emily's place. I only saw two blocks, seemed like any other borough at night. I made Emily try an Oregon Pinot noir even though she hates red – I didn't convert her, but she didn't gag either! – and we ate pizza and watched American Idol. He's kind of a hack, but I love the holographic-shirt-and-sweatband-wearing "Norman Gentle," aka Nick Mitchell, for not taking the ridiculous show so seriously – he's wacky and campy and spazzy, oh my! Last stop: Stanton Public to meet Kristen at her co-worker Matt's going away party. He's moving to Boston to take a "creative breather," he told me. Another one of his friends lit up when I said I was from Portland: "I want to move there!" Kristen is planning to move to San Francisco. Am I nuts for wanting to move to New York?

I love how in the largest city in the country, you still find yourself orbiting the same small worlds. I was in SoHo nearly every day of my trip, always for completely different, random reasons. I must have walked by the corner of Prince and Elizabeth Streets close to ten times, always curious about the diner-looking Cafe Habana. A fan of Cuban food ever since I discovered the sorely-missed (in my opinion) Canita (sister of Pambiche), I knew I must have been drawn there for a reason and went back with a purpose on Thursday. Yum! The mole burrito was good enough, but the roasted corn on the cob – ahhhh-mazing! Probably because it was coated in butter and queso fresco. I could eat it every day – and I just might if I keep ending up in SoHo.

Another afternoon of working in my "office" (aka, the library), and then happy hour with Kristen and her work friends at Valhalla. I love that word; vikings or whatever nonsense, I just love the way it sounds. Tons of craft beers, kind of reminded me of all the taps at Bailey's Taproom. I chose hard cider. Such a girl. Kim and Robin and I later headed to the College Humor Live show at the Upright Citizens Brigade. So many barely 21-ers there! I felt old. The guys were funny, the guest comedians – including SNL writer John Mulaney – wunderkinds with so much talent. I'm no stand-up, but it made me want to put more creativity out there.

My last day consisted of lots of wandering, maybe just trying to soak it all up and bring some back to Portland with me. Lunch was a classic street vendor hot dog – my favorite NYC hangover cure from years past. I'll probably never outgrow that. I had come to feel like I really was living there, had settled in to a bit of a routine. My friends kept forgetting I was leaving. I didn't feel like I was really leaving until the plane finally took off. With a non-stop flight, I was back in Portland so quickly, plopped back into my life. But it feels different, I feel different.

I miss New York. I don't want to sound like an inconsistent ninny who doesn't know what she wants, when I was just rambling two weeks ago about how much I missed Portland... but maybe I am. Or maybe it's impossible to ever definitively choose between the two. On my last day in New York, walking through a brown and gray Central Park, my mom left a voicemail and told me to have a good flight back to Portland, which she said she wouldn't call my "home" anymore since I should start thinking of New York as home. And that's partly true – reinvigorated to make the move despite any fear, I'm beginning the process of mentally "moving" as well. But Portland will always feel like home. New York is part of a journey that I know will lead me back here, a quest to find myself in new and challenging surroundings, to prove I can make my life whatever I dream it to be. (Thanks, Thoreau: "Go confidently in the direction of your dreams. Live the life you you have imagined.") But considering how proud I felt every time I told someone, "I'm from Portland," I'm pretty sure I'll be leaving my heart right here in the west.

They Always Go There on Cash Cab

2009-02-25T01:13:00.007-05:00

That would be McSorley's, which I finally made it to tonight. Supposedly New York's oldest Irish tavern, dating to 1854 – and a prime spot to mingle with suits, Euro tourists, and packs of dudes. Many cabs pulled up while Mari and I sat by the window, proving that it's quite the destination, but none with Ben Bailey or passengers waving newly-won cash. I swear, I have to move to New York just to satisfy by burning desire to get on Cash Cab.

Mari and I first got dinner at MAX, a spot chosen to satisfy my pasta craving and to put us in the McSorley's vicinity (I've been getting daily texts from my friend Tyler telling me to go or I'd be disowned). Turns out the tiny space, oil-cloth tablecloths, and two-seater bar reminded me of my favorite Portland spot, The Italian Joint. Sad, because that restaurant – where you could get bread, salad (with the BEST raspberry vinaigrette) and a pasta fit for two for under $10, plus a giant carafe of house red for $11 – is closed, so yesterday's rumors go. Fucking economy. This was, of course, not so cheap, but the smoked mozzarella and asparagus ravioli was delicious. I'll eat anything smoked or pickled – those carcinogens are just too tasty to resist!

I arrived at 7:40 for dinner, and we were the only ones in the place; by the time we left an hour later, it was packed. I noticed the same timeline at Union Hall last week – at 7:15, I had my pick of most every seat, but by 8:30, I was crowded around by big groups – and told Kristen about how those big "happy hour" groups start convening as early as 5 and reach their peak around 6 in Portland. She was shocked. No one leaves work that early in New York. The later schedule works with my nocturnal tendencies, but still, I want happy hour at the usual time! Now that I think about it, I haven't noticed a single happy hour menu this entire time – uh oh.

Beers are cheap at McSorley's, though – $4.50 for two, albeit half pints. Saunter up the bar and choose between light and dark ales, that's all they got. We double-fisted it and found a prime table in the window, surrounded by old photos and memorabilia, none of which has been removed since 1910. I'm a sucker for history like that. One beer in, we noticed this mug on the table:

Root beer float? That was my first thought, but no. We decided it was the discarded foam from all the beers – not poured with the greatest care, at least a third of the mug was foam, so people must dump it off to get the goods stuff faster, we figured. Silly girls. Turns out it was spicy-ass mustard, to be used on the famous McSorley's Cheese Plate: saltines, white American cheese, and raw onions.

A generous pair of gentlemen not only informed us what exactly what is in that mug, but shared the gourmet treat with us. We each tried one. That was enough. Then we pondered why Mari thinks people in New York are nicer than people in San Francisco – maybe the more traditional East coast manners? And I wondered if the fact that Mari and I are both not the girliest girls has something to do with us growing up in California – not wanting to be considered ditzy valley girls, we avoided overly feminine stuff the older we got. These seemed like very poignant observations at the time, but maybe that ale was just really strong. All I know is that I want to go out on a limb and wear a skirt tomorrow.

File Under: Why Didn't I Think of That?

2009-02-24T10:24:00.001-05:00

I think I may have just finally defrosted from my icy travels last night – and it took a whole night under warm and cozy blankets. If I could walk around New York in a Snuggie, I'd be all set! Instead, I forgot mittens yesterday and don't think my fingers have ever been so painfully frozen.

And still, I was happy the whole way, up to Columbia and back to Park Slope, even when I realized that taking the B train to 125th left me on the wrong side of Morningside Park, which may look skinny and easy to cross on the map, but is really a near-sheer climb up from the east to the west. Wind whipping, cumbersome bag on my bony shoulder, I stomped up hundreds of stairs in heels. I'm not necessarily well-prepared for this urban boot camp, but I'm getting used to it. And I like it.

At Columbia, I met with Ann Cami, an adjunct in the Developmental Psychology department who teaches about children and media – good fit. I'm endlessly fascinated with the way children see the world, how they learn and think, and how that shapes them as adults, and the program focuses on just that. What may or may not be a detriment: it doesn't prepare you for a specific career. I could combine it with my editorial background to go into children's entertainment or media literacy; of if I want to go into private practice, continue on with a doctorate in psychology.

It's a big investment that deserves more consideration. I'm feeling a renewed interest in new media and web development, and damn, I just want to work again. Do I want to, am I ready to switch over to a new path? I've said it before, but this is the first time in my life that I'm not sure of my next step – is it this first real decision that makes me an adult, finally? I keep wondering how I'll look back on this cross-roads in my life ten or twenty years from now, how each of the choices could play out: Portland or New York, editor or psychologist or teacher or writer.... When I was little, I used to tell people I was going to be a doctor and a lawyer and a writer and a veterinarian and an actress. I wish it still felt possible to do it all.

Back in Brooklyn, I went to Alchemy again (close to the subway, and hey, I like it) for some wine and food. The bartender had on a University of Puget Sound shirt, turned out to be from Washington. I told him I was from Portland, and I thought maybe we'd have a friendly fellow Northwesterners rapport. Nuh uh, he was not having it. Whatever, that's why it's PONY and WANY or some crap like that!

And proving that Portland is indeed much cooler, I came home to a link to the portland to new york Facebook group (thanks, Mike Hughes!), full of eighty-four members who "lived in Portland now living or visiting new york city and want to link with people they know." I'm going to suggest they rename it PONY. Or maybe I should start my own PONY group? This one doesn't seem very active....hmmmm. Why didn't I think of that? Perhaps it's not too late. Nope, never too late.

Winsome Whirlwind Weekend Wrap-Up

2009-02-19T23:51:00.011-05:00

WARNING: This is gonna be a long one. I promise it'll be worth it. But also feel free to skim for only the scandalous parts.

I'm not sure exactly what's happened over the past four or five days, but I'm finding myself more and more hooked on this city. I feel at home again. It's energy and confidence and creativity that I haven't felt in a long time. It's hard – it's cold and my coats aren't thick enough, I pack my "office" and lug around a leaden bag all day, I don't know the most efficient trains and end up zigzagging all over Manhattan and Brooklyn, walking in circles and generally taking longer to get anywhere than I probably should. But the more I push myself, the better I feel. And the more assured I get to go further, and the more inspired I am to follow through on new ideas. And I'm just having fun, plain and simple. Portland is an amazing place to make a life, but I almost feel like it's time for me to earn it. I have to go away and stretch myself to really be content. I have to throw myself in the ocean and prove I can swim – and remember that even though it's effort, I have fun doing it; then the daiquiri on the beach will be that much more rewarding!

Enough introspection, let's rewind and recount the weekend...

Thursday, February 19
If you recall, Thursday was to be quite a busy day for me. Lesson learned: don't jinx it by blogging about the schedule the night before. I showed up at NYU and no one knew I was coming, nor did they know where the person was I was supposed to meet. Forty-five minutes later, I finally found someone who told me she had called in sick. Nice. I will never call in sick to work again.

Well, time for lunch then...headed up to Madison Square Park for some infamous Shake Shack. If I remember correctly, they opened soon after my ASME summer, and everyone was talking about the burgers, the fries, the frozen custards – serious cult following led to impossible lines. Now there are three locations, but it's still a popular lunch spot – the line took close to thirty minutes! And was it worth it? Eh, not really. The burger was fine, but kind of bland and soggy compared to In 'N Out; the fries were perfectly crisp, but the crinkle cut reminded me of the frozen ones you make at home; and the frozen custard chocolate shake...ick. Too nutty, or bitter, or something for my taste, and not nearly sweet enough. Maybe I'm too used to artificial flavor, but I kind of cringed every time I took a sip. The fauna were 'uuuge fans, though; birds sat right next to me and aggressive city squirrels nearly nabbed a fry when I wasn't looking! The pictures are hilarious, but I have to wait 'til I get home to the download cord to share them. Booooo.

Next up, my inaugural visit to the New York Public Library, which you may know as the refuge for freezing New Yorkers in the brilliant The Day After Tomorrow (can't help it, I love disaster movies!). It was slightly less desolate and a tad bit more warm and inviting, thankfully. It is, without a doubt, my new "office." Sitting in the periodical room, surrounded by murals of the great publishing buildings of the past, who wouldn't be inspired to genius?? Ok, I'll settle for productivity, and it worked wonders. I'm going back tomorrow.

I continued on the unfamiliar motivated-to-try-new-things path by going to a free pilates class that Melissa had looked into while she was visiting. I know, you're shocked! It turned out to be a very intensive bodywork class, less aerobic workout, less full-body yoga stretching, and more specific isolated muscle exercises. There may be nothing I hate more than not knowing what I'm doing (hence sticking with the familiar), and fitness has always been foreign to me. It makes me feel stupid, so I avoid it. Throughout the hour, though, even more than being reminded how out of shape I am (no news to me!), I realized just how much I don't pay attention to the individual parts of my body, how they move and interact in everyday motions, and how I can better take care of them. If/when I live here, I need to make this a regular thing. Any Brooklynites reading this, check out Ophra (that's oh-fra, not the other one) at Force and Flow. Seriously.

Resigned to a lazy night at "home," I hit a few bodegas for some food (this shopping-as-you-need-it thing is also hard to get used to) before Kristen invited me to meet up with her and Robin in Park Slope. Excellent, hot food! The problem is that the Atlantic stop on the subway is attached to Target, and I couldn't resist. If only I knew exercise as well as I know shopping! A few necessities later (and I promise, truly, only necessities, and travel sizes at that), I made it to Alchemy, my favorite kind of dense and dark wooded tavern/restaurant, where I wolfed down a veggie burger (with havarti cheese!) and traded dating advice. I am so out of practice!

Home to Lost catch-up and a bit of PONY news from home: Arthur Gregg Sulzberger, the heir-apparent to The New York Times, who had been a county court reporter at the Oregonian, is now at the city desk of the Times. It was expected that he'd end up back east, of course, just glad to add him to the PONY people list. Think we could swap stories? Ha.

Friday, February 20
I had scheduled lunch with Marlene, the Executive Director of ASME, but this time I had to reschedule because of another PawLinks conversation/interview (more on that later). I was able to make a later lunch with Meredith, another fellow ASME intern, at Spring Street Natural, where I had another veggie burger. The perfect food, I swear!

From there I wandered SoHo, got a wedding gift for PJ (another intern, shower on Saturday), and made my way to the Housing Works Bookstore, which Six-Word Memoirs Rachel recommended – she does work there, after all. I could have spent all day there, like the library – looking at room, I suppose it's no surprise I like to be surrounded by books. Unfortunately for my suitcase, I also can't resist buying books, especially vintage ones. This time, I picked up a 1951 review copy of Exploring the Child's World, a collection of insights and advice from a woman who interviewed kids and, unlike many during that time, listened to them as complete human beings with valid ideas, emotions and concerns. So much common sense now, but apparently groundbreaking at the time. It's fascinating to me to see how expert thinking and recommendations change so drastically with the times.

Cool book, but no place to sit and plug in the ancient laptop, so I just left early to stake our window seat at The Magician – same bar as last Friday with the awesomely cheap happy hour. Emily, one of my roommates from the ASME summer, showed up first, so we got to catch up, then Robin, Kim and Kristen (the trio of Brooklyn-dwelling, Hearst-employed ladies, I should note) arrived, making it about half of the ASME crew. When Kim's friend, Adam, joined us, it turned into an evening of coin toss dares and ballpoint pen "tattoos" – I'm stilled faintly marked with the New York Times "T," a lightning bolt heart, and a pair of so-nerdy-they're-now-hipster-cool black glasses. (Adam, a digital artist/designer/tech communication grad student, had been to the Times Open, a day-conference about open source API, using the new public archive of Times articles dating to 1981, full of inimitably searchable and sortable data. Fittingly, the attendees got a Nerd Merit Badge (you can buy your own) bearing the paper's insignia, providing the inspiration for our ink. Long description, but it was all interesting to me – I am a nerd.)

Now, back to the party... Kim and Robin left to go to a show, Adam went to a birthday party, and Mari met up with us, leaving me with two of my best friends to hit the town. Oooooh-kay, yay! We went to Back Room, which serves drinks in teacups and has a speakeasy vibe with its hidden entrance. Yet another library-esque spot (this seems to be the theme) – the VIP room is hidden behind a bookcase. We would have stayed longer, but we needed food, so we hit up Schiller's Liquor Bar, also with a slight '20s style, this time in the form of a hall of mirrors. I ate yet another veggie burger and loved every bite. From there, Kristen went home, and Mari and I went to 205 to meet her friends Jamie and Wes. Nag champa, techno music, but free drinks thanks to their birthday-boy friend. Deal. And I had the hilarious "pleasure" of meeting Cliff III, who is in the shipping business in Singapore, a trade his family has apparently been in for over 200 years. He grew up quite rich in Manhattan and went to prep school in San Francisco and "summered" in Nantucket. He is the first person I've ever met that I think I can call "pedigreed." They really exist, it blew my mind!

I think it was nearing 4am when we finally went to sleep at Mari's. Phew!

Saturday, February 20
Late start, obviously. After looking at the bridal shower invite, I was relieved to see that jeans were acceptable attire. No time to get back to Brooklyn from the Upper East Side – especially with the party in midtown – so I wore my same outfit from the night before. Classy! PJ and Ryan have been dating since before our ASME summer and are getting married in March, and after watching them match nearly every answer on the homemade video Newlywed Game that her friends had organized, I'm more sure than ever they're perfect for each other. So we celebrated a lot, of course, with tons of food, wine, tea and cake. Stuffed.

Kristen and I headed back to her place to refresh for the bachelorette portion of the fun, that same night. I was amazed at the energy I had, considering the hangover that kept me in bed all morning (or maybe that was the trick!). We went to The Randolph, a cozy nightspot, for schmancy, expensive cocktails – I wanted to order PBR – and I managed to stay relatively clear of all the girlie screaming and shrieking. Lots of fun, but huge groups of girls aren't my favorite scene. I stuck with Emily, Meredith and Brooke most of the time, trying to take advantage of the time together. We capped the night with drunken (everyone else) dancing at Happy Ending. Although now that I think about it, I'm not sure anyone really danced because it was so wall-to-wall packed. All that matters is that PJ was drunk and having a blast and telling everyone how much she loves them. That's all you can ask from a bachelorette party, I suppose!

Sunday, February 22 - today!
I ventured out by myself today, which was nice. I'm more content to explore alone in New York than anywhere else. There's so much to see, so much to get done, it's easier to just stick with your own agenda sometimes. This time was a trek to the Brooklyn Flea, which is massive and massively cool in the summer, as I'm told, but smaller and indoors in the winter. Still, the vintage junkie in me had to check it out.

First off, DUMBO (Down Under the Manhattan Bridge Overpass – basically Brooklyn, near the river, between the bridges) looks just like the Pearl. Warehouses turned into lofts, with walls of retail windows on the bottom. When I walked by West Elm, I seriously got confused about where I was. Second, the market was kind of disappointing. Kristen warned me, but I didn't think it would be that small. Probably under 20 vendors, a mix between clothes, jewelry, house decor, photos. I've spent more time and found so many more things I wanted to take home at HOUSE on Hawthorne; I think half my own house is decorated from that vintage warehouse. But still, I did manage to find another vintage book for my collection: Get Wise to Yourself! This one's a doozy, from 1928, full of ways to analyze your physical features and gestures as clues to your personality – it's become an exact science, they say! Does the ball of your foot hit the ground first when you walk? You're "administrative – suggesting the owner or magnate." Do you have large earlobes? Then you are "generous and benevolent." It gets so much better: forehead slopes, nose bulges, lip angles, chin shapes. Please, come over or send me photos so I can analyze you! As they say, "grasp courage by the forelock; sharpen your pencil; put your pride on the ice for a moment, and proceed to the charts with a heart for any fate."

New collection: vintage self-help books. Hilarious.

Quick dinner and margaritas with Kristen to honor National Margarita Day, then up to Mari's to watch the Oscars. We drank Prosecco and ate brownies shaped like train cars (Mari went to Williams-Sonoma today), and Mari and I tied with 16 out of 24 predictions spot on. That's a record for me. Now I'm watching The Soup and should really be asleep.

Oh wait, there's more? Just a few loose ends..... The job stuff. I've had a few more conversations with the business/marketing/strategy person and the product/user experience developer for PawLinks, and I think they've gone really well. The more I talk about it, the more ideas I have. Tomorrow I've got to finish up some research of their plans so far, plus analysis of a few competitors, then I'm talking with the founder again to share some ideas and nail down a plan/expectations for my proposal. I want to do this. But I also need to earn a living.

Last but sooooo not least, I haven't given up on the subway reading lists. I think they deserve their own blog, though, photos and all. It should debut tomorrow. Also, more cool links and information when I can finally catch up on my own web reading and searching. Thanks for reading my diary for now!

*What, you really thought I would post scandalous stuff for the whole world to read on the internet? You'll have to email me personally for that dirt!

Everyday New York City Rain

2009-02-19T00:29:00.004-05:00

Another lazy day for Liz. But only because I was up nearly all night "working," so had to get my zzzzz's during the day today. After some email catchup and more lunch/happy hour scheduling, I finally headed out of the apartment around six – and wouldn't you know it, the rain finally found me! I had been so spoiled by the near constant sun over the past week that I forgot I even packed my galoshes. But after WAY too much time indoors over the past 36 hours, I was on a mission to explore the neighborhood and find myself a wifi coffee shop to do some more "work" – even if I was going to walk a mile in those $6 booties (I know, I can't get over the price either!). But that Brooklyn Industries puff coat....seriously, it's like walking around in your own dry and toasty cloud, completely sheltered from the elements. I am starting a savings fund for my very own. Ask your nearest bank how you can contribute to the Liz-Has-No-Body-Fat-So-Needs-A-Huge-Puff-Coat-To-Survive Foundation.

Anywhooo, comfortable bundled up, I walked by Grand Army Plaza, picture-perfect brownstones on Union Street, bike shops, yoga studios, and the packed Park Slope Food Coop. I realized that I hadn't seen a single Subaru since I've been in New York, and then on the very next block spotted two of them. They were from out of state, though (New Hampshire and New Mexico), so I still remained convinced that Subarus are decidedly part of only the Portland end of the PONY spectrum.

Kristen's recommended coffee shop, Tea Lounge, was overrun by the time I got there, so I ended up at Union Hall for a glass of wine with my laptop. I immediately declared it a new favorite, with vintage chairs and couches (think Kennedy School's movie theater), built-in bookshelves lining the walls, and indoor bocce ball. I also hear they host pretty good bands in the basement. Considering all that and it's in Park Slope, I was pleasantly surprised at the very low percentage of barf-y hipsters. I got lucky on this one!

More walking toward Smith Street in Cobble Hill followed, and a yummy dinner of Provencal beef stew with Kristen at Bar Tabac, a cooler, dimmer, cozier version of Portland's old Brasserie Montmartre. I've never been to Paris, but it felt so authentic to me I wanted a cigarette afterwards, and I haven't thought about one in weeks!

One stop at a newsstand for my daily Twix fix (instead of that smoke), one train ride during which I couldn't make out the titles of any of the books being read (bummer), and we were home to watch Top Chef and (hopefully!) go to bed at a decent hour.

Tomorrow's a busy one and I can't wait. First thing, I'm meeting with the admissions coordinator for NYU's Applied Psychology graduate program. What's that? I've never told you about my secret identity as an aspiring child psychologist? It's been brewing in me a long time, from my days working with kids at camps to the one psych class I took at the end of college, which made me want to learn so much more. With no clear path in front of me, I'm trying to explore every possibility and listen to where my gut leads me. And I tell ya, I haven't been so excited about something as I am to take this real step toward a move I have pondered quietly for years. A visit to Columbia to learn about their Developmental Psychology program is also on the books.

After that, I'm treating myself to Shake Shack. We'll see how it compares to In 'n Out. Then my first visit to the New York Public Library, which I hope will inspire some truly genius work. Ha! I'll end my "work" day with a free pilates/yoga class (thanks, Melissa!) and dinner/drinks with my new friend Eli, the soon-to-be former Executive Director of MoveOn.org, who I randomly met in L.A. with Becky right before New Year's. He's promised to show me what he deems to be cooler sections of Brooklyn than Park Slope – i.e. his neighborhood of Fort Greene. Kristen says the place he picked, No. 7, is delicious, and coming from my favorite foodie, I think that means he's off to a good start!

Working for Work

2009-02-18T05:40:00.002-05:00

I said it yesterday, and I'll say it again: Life in New York is pretty much the same as life in Portland, except for diversity, subways and trash on the street. And rats in the walls. But when you're working all day – in my case, on the couch with my laptop – it feels exactly the same. I could have gone to a coffee shop, but I was lazy. Still, I managed to get lots of research done, caught up on emails, and updated my sample Glamour blogs (four new posts). They wanted to see more, so I guess that's a good sign!

It's going to be morning soon. Even the Portlanders are sleeping right now. I'm ridiculous!

Stories to Read, Stores to Tell

2009-02-17T00:26:00.005-05:00

I ended yesterday, and began today, with Paul Auster's memoirs of destitution and failure, Hand to Mouth. I hoped that in reading about a favorite writer's struggles – and knowing about the success he later experienced – I would feel a little stronger in my confidence that everything is going to be okay (EGBOK, as my mom likes to remind me) for me. Right now, I'm still feeling very awash in confusion, fear and lethargy. Ick. Not the book's fault, mind you. Just the result of an overactive catastrophizing brain at the moment. The memoirs themselves are light enough to infuse the subject matter with hope. I'll let you know how I feel when I finish the book.

At the same adorable bookstore where I found the memoirs, Unnameable Books, which I came across on Bergen Street during my venture into Park Slope yesterday (smaller even than Reading Frenzy, stacked floor to ceiling with used books), I also picked up a collection of stories Auster edited for NPR's National Story Project. We know by now that I'm a fan of stories collected from real people, and while I love web projects like Six-Word Memoirs and Fifty People, One Question, which collect stories via Twitter and video, it's nice to hold this book, turn the pages and catch a glimpse of people's lives.

On the train back to Brooklyn from Harlem last night, reading the book, I looked up for a moment and realized that six people around me were also reading, and the stories they chose seemed to offer a glimpse into their lives as well. Isn't it true that the stories we read say something about our own life stories? So now I'm keeping track of what I see people reading on the subway. And since I've been riding the subway a ton (see below), it keeps me entertained...

2/15, midnight, 2/3 to Brooklyn: 1776, Medical Terminology for Health Professionals, A Bona Fide Gold Digger, The Wave, New Moon, Bruiser 2

2/16, 2pm, 3 & Q to midtown: Janacek's Essays, A Civil Action

2/16, 5:30pm, R & F to LES: Mary Todd Lincoln, Eclipse

2/16, 11pm, 6 & 3 to Brooklyn: The Crown of Creation, New Moon

So the Twilight books are still pretty damn popular. Can't wait to see what other patterns I notice.

And now, to sum up the last three days:

Saturday, February 14
Melissa and I got a late start, making our way to the Brooklyn side of the Brooklyn Bridge nearing sunset. Turns out the light was gorgeous on the Manhattan skyline. But in just my red ballet flats, my toes were frozen by the time we landed in Manhattan, so we headed to Century 21 to warm up. During my first visit in 2003, I remember being unsettled by this temple of consumerism sitting so bright and shiny across from the hole of the WTC site. How frivolous. It still strikes me as odd, but maybe the best thing we can do for the country is spend a little. Eh? I managed to do my part by snapping up black Nine West booties for six bucks, plus a brown knit skirt for all of $2. Quite a stimulus package! Back in Brooklyn, we put on some dresses (and my new shoes!) and trekked to Bushwick to our friend Ellie's party. It's out there, and kind of a desolate area (except for the lofts that are surely awesome, with a view of the Chrysler Building). And Ellie didn't answer the phone to let us in. Weeee waaaaugh. One party: bust. But I saw a new area of Brooklyn, I was happy enough. Now back to the Park Slope/Fort Green area for Kim and Robin's friend's party. I was again happy when I emerged from the subway on Portland Avenue. PONY, straight up. At the party, I was content to eat cupcakes, drink wine, and girl talk in the kitchen. No romantic or crazy stories, but I swear I'd be happy to just wander the city all night. At least for a little while. Last stop: the fried chicken place on the corner by Kristen's place; chicken sandwich, macaroni salad and Sprite is yummy at 3am.

Sunday, February 15
Time to see Kim and Robin's place in Park Slope. First, a leisurely stroll from the subway along 5th Avenue, boutique/restaurant/bar/coffee shop central. It felt dense like Hawthorne between 34th and 37th, but looked more like Mississippi, and included high-end spots like the Pearl. And just like on a sunny Sunday in Portland, the strollers, puppies and hipsters were out in droves. Perhaps it's a good sign that I have pets on the brain, but I couldn't help noticing at least eight animal boutiques, spas, vets and daycares in probably a ten block radius at the most. Good sign that there's a huge market for the site, at least. I managed to avoid the clothing stores so I wouldn't be tempted, except for Brooklyn Industries, which is opening it's first store on the west coast in – where do you think? – Portland!

Since I've been living in Kristen's long puff coat from there, glad to know I'll be covered on both coasts when I need to invest in my own. (PDX store opens on March 12.) Also stopped in to Bob & Judi's Coolectibles, which I hoped would be packed with vintage treasures like SMUT or Flutter, but it was too well-organized, bright and clean – and expensive – for me to enjoy the hunt. I need to check out Under the Pig down the street, but so far, I fear that vintage shopping may be too sanitized and upmarket here, devoid of the mystery and quirk in Portland. As evening fell, I set out on my trek to Dinosaur BBQ in Harlem for dinner with Mari and friends, most of whom I've known through her since high school. I still can't believe the city is so big that the trip took an hour-and-a-half; you could be at the beach or the mountain from Portland in that time! At the same time, a city with so many different worlds to explore is pretty addicting. Anyway, good barbecue, even better company, and another loooooong ride back to Brooklyn, getting home near one. Exhausted. But still read late into the night.

Monday, February 16
Woke up to read. Saw Melissa off, back to DC. Headed to midtown to meet Andrew Rhodes at McGee's. Andrew worked at ASME and coordinated the internship program that first brought me to New York in 2003. So grateful to him for the opportunity! Unfortunately, he was laid off in December, so this was a commiseration and catch-up beer. I didn't know that Andrew grew up in West Virginia and moved to New York to become an actor in his 30s. Talk about gutsy! I hope this free time helps him get back in touch with that passion. A bit buzzed, I walked down through Times Square. I'm not ashamed to admit it – I love Times Square. It's so bright and busy, so far removed from everyday reality, I can get lost from all my cares and concerns. This surely marks me as a non-New Yorker, but I love to watch the tourists excite in the city and imagine what stories they'll tell when they get back home. Such a fascinating array of people. So much energy in one place. It gets me out of my head. Then headed down to the Lower East Side to meet Mari et al. Got drinks at Motor City Bar, which reminded me of Kelly's Olympian, but not as cool without the hanging motorcycles, and ate Latin American small plates at Paladar. Food was tasty, but the service was terribly slow and the decor looked as interesting as an airport bar. If that place can make it in such a trendy neighborhood, maybe I should open a restaurant. Ha! Endured all the train changes (thanks, construction) to get back home eventually. One night to have the place to myself. I think I may be more introverted than I've thought in the past.

A Veritable Cornucopia of Fun

2009-02-14T13:25:00.007-05:00

Unemployment. Recession. Inevitable depression. Every morning I wake up with a heavy pit of anxiety, self-doubt, fear-that-my-life-won't-get-back-on-track in my stomach. It feels all-consuming and makes me resist fully waking up to face a day filled with such uncertainty. The irony, of course, is that laying there and stewing in it just gives it more power. Once I get moving, take a shower, put some effort into what I wear, and step out into the fresh air, some hope returns. And if yesterday was any indication, in a city like this, there's a story around every corner.

First, we made a beeline for the Museum of Sex (Tyler was adamant about this, and Karen and Laura both said it was worth a trip), where the featured exhibit currently examines the sex lives of animals. No holds barred. I'd rather this blog not show up in unsavory Google search results, so I won't go into details – except to say blowholes, G-G rubbing, and diddling. Now go satisfy your curiosity over at Wired. Upstairs, another rotating exhibit explored the evolution of porn; I'm not prude, but watching such explicit scenes with a bunch of strangers was, well, a bit strange. And proving that there can be too much of a good thing, we didn't even walk through the whole thing because the videos just got boring. Finally, the third floor housed the permanent collection of antique vibrators, archaic sex education books (my favorites below), erotic art from various cultures, extreme bondage gear, RealDolls a la Lars and The Real Girl, and sex machines, which I had seen photos of at Powell's a few years ago.

Midway through, around the art and before the RealDolls you could, ahem, explore, some dude started to linger too long and try to strike up a conversation with me. Picking up women at the sex museum – ballsy, but not gonna work with me, buddy. Overall, it was an eye-opening experience...I think our culture would be a whole lot happier if it was as honest and educated about sex as the museum. Worth the $15.

Our curiosities fully sated, we needed to indulge our consumer whores and headed to SoHo. Melissa loves Mango; there, I was tempted to buy a clearance coat, but decided it wasn't warm enough to warrant the expense. Over at H&M, we were welcomed with a 20% off coupon, which was all the permission I needed to buy something. My weakness. But Mom would have been proud that I also bought only sale items. My frugality was rewarded by walking by Miss J from America's Next Top Model (not really a fan of the show or the androgynous runway coach, but it was my first celeb sighting, so yay!). And then, boom, on the other end of the spectrum, some Canadian tuxedo-clad guy stopped us, "Got a quarter?" Immediately followed by, "Right up the ass." I was too overcome by laughter to dig for spare change before he had moved on to a new target.

We ended up at The Magician to meet Kim for happy hour. Happy, indeed – a well drink and house red for $5! if we didn't have to get to bowling by 8, that bar would have been my downfall. Luckily, Kim dragged us out into a van cab (not Cash Cab, dammit!) to get to The Gutter in Williamsburg, where we met her friends, some of the staff behind College Humor. This maybe could be considered by second celeb sighting since the guys (and one girl, Sarah) star in the new College Humor Show on MTV. They make money just being their funny selves, lucky bastards. Aaaaaand, The Gutter was the setting for the Flight of the Conchords new song, "Friends," from the last episode. Hearing that, I was downright giddy (the two glasses of wine I downed at The Magician probably helped)!

What the drinks didn't help: my bowling performance. 60. Seriously? Such a sad showing. So I drowned my sorrows in a red velvet cupcake at Enid's, then a Rogue Stout (yay, Oregon!) at Bar Matchless. The bars were more crowded, but stocked with the bearded, skinny jeans, hipster crowd I know so well. If beers weren't six bucks, we could have been in Portland. Even the Camel guy, who gives you free cigarettes in Portland, came around, but could only give out free Zippos since free smokes are apparently against the law in New Yawk. Probably for the best. I still signed up for the lighter, though, and when the guy looked at my license he exclaimed, "Portland – that's pretty much heaven, right?" Sigh....you may be right, Camel guy. I'm still trying to figure it out.

Maybe today's walk across the Brooklyn Bridge will help. Valentine's Day parties tonight. I hope everyone feels some love today!

Moving, Moving Forward

2009-02-12T22:31:00.010-05:00

Today was a transportation clusterfuck. From Brooklyn to Midtown to the Upper East Side, then down to SoHo, over to the East Village, up to Union Square and back to Brooklyn. Phew! And where, oh where has my sense of direction gone? I got off a stop too early on 5th Ave and 59th, which meant I had to walk over three avenue blocks (the loooong ones) to catch the right train to my interview, with time running short. But at least I got to walk by The Plaza and Bloomingdale's. In search of the crosstown bus post-interview (I'll get to that in a bit), I couldn't for the life of me find either that or the subway. I turned in circles in the triangle between 6th Ave and Canal Street before spotting that controversial bike lane and getting wine at a cigar bar that charges $7 for edamame. Seriously??

And the longest trek of all, I dragged Melissa from Washington Square Park to the East Village to get cheap and yummy Indian food at one of the many spots that 6th Street is known for (we chose Taj because it was the first we saw and we were starving – plus, they had a sitar player perched in the window and we got soup, samosa, entree, rice and naan for ten bucks). In subway no man's land, I decided we'd walk up to Union Square, where I lived during the ASME summer. Now there's a Trader Joe's on the bottom of University Hall, and walking in there made me really feel like I was back in Portland, but instead of the impossible-to-find-a-spot parking lot there was an insane line snaking through the back of the store. We didn't want to wait. (Luckily, for winos like myself, there's a separate wine shop to stock up on Two Buck Chuck).

I'm not sure I've ever traveled to such far flung locales in one single day in Manhattan. Walking all those blocks and climbing all those subway stairs, I feel like I had a hardcore workout. The mental concentration and planning it took to navigate the subways, I feel like I had a stressful day at work (and boy, is that satisfying for an unemployed chick). Along the way, I enjoyed a world of music, quite literally – bongos accompanying "The Girl from Ipanema," an Appalachian fiddler, a cappella gospel, bagpipes, and steel drums. Plus, one diminutive woman dressed like Kermit, in all lime green from shoes to gloves, including streaks in her hair. Wha???

And how, you ask, was the interview? It was good. First, it turns out Fetch is across the street from Brother Jimmy's Bait Shack, where I first sang karaoke and used to dance on the bar with Kristen during many debaucherous nights.

The difference between those memories and today's reality made me feel a bit old, but at least wiser.

The meeting itself was less an interview than a conversation about the how the site (PawLinks, for pet owners to connect, learn from experts, organize care, etc) is being developed and what I could bring to the table. He felt the sample content plan and writer's guidelines I submitted as a sort of "edit test" were exactly what they were looking for, and for once, I felt my confidence in myself return. Because this is a startup, there is no real defined job description, and it sounds like the next steps are for me to develop a proposal about how I would launch the content, how long it would take me, and how much I would charge. I could create a plan that keeps me busy full-time, and he plans for the position to become staff down the line. It feels both amazing and incredibly daunting to craft not only the voice and editorial on the site, but my role itself, from scratch. What am I capable of? What am I worth?

These are the questions I won't be thinking about until Tuesday. It's time to get out and have some fun. After all, it's a holiday weekend! I'm sure my loyal reader or two would like to hear about some crazy nights on the town. I'll see what I can do.

Oh, and want to see my sample blogs for Glamour? Letting it all hang out over on...Broke-Ass.

Good Morning, New York!

2009-02-11T16:54:00.006-05:00

Ok, so it's hardly morning anymore. I meant to write this when I woke up bright and early, ready to take on the day, when the sun shone through the windows and I breathed a sigh of relief that it was going to be near 60 degrees today – hardly the frigid wasteland I'd been warned about. I did, in fact, wake up early, but on principle I just couldn't make myself get out of bed (or off the couch) – it was 6am in Portland. Nuh-uh. That's obscene.

Almost eight hours later, I'm sitting in the Hearst building's gorgeous atrium cafeteria (soon to be seen in Confessions of a Shopaholic - barf). Kristen is upstairs, stressing about her work at Delish.com. What I wouldn't give for some work stress. It felt so good to sit in an office, like I had a purpose again. I know I praised being free from the cubicle farm a few weeks ago, but these aren't cubes...they're airy desks, stocked with new Mac technology. There were cupcakes to be had. All in all, not a bad place to come to work.

Last night, I got re-broken-in to New York as we drove through Queens and East New York from JFK into Brooklyn. Kristen lives in Crown Heights, in an adorable studio that she has painted my favorite shade of brown. I felt like I was at home sinking my toes into same the white shag rug we both bought at IKEA. The anxiety I had been fighting off all day seemed to melt away, like it always does at night, and I eagerly anticipated my first day in the city.

This morning, however, the angst returned. Kristen gave me door-to-door directions from her apartment to her office, and I still felt overwhelmed at the prospect of heading in to Manhattan. I am overwhelmed at the idea of the job I'm interviewing for tomorrow – do I really want the burden of creating a site's editorial strategy from scratch again? And I couldn't figure out what to wear!

Keep it simple, I told myself. One step at a time. Skinny jeans, black-and-white striped sweater, and the Jimmy Choo heels I found for $60 at Last Chance in Phoenix. At least I can pretend to be sophisticated (I don't think anyone saw me just eat that Lunchable in this multi-million dollar cafeteria). Just walk out the door, get on the train. And the minute I descended into the subway, that smell, not bad, not good, but the industry and humanity of the city, I felt happy. That brought me back to all the carefree wonder and possibility of the summer of 2003. I need to try to look at these two weeks the same way. Anything can happen – and whatever that is, it will be the right thing for me.

I'm off now to meet Mari at her office by the MoMA. I need to write three sample blogs tonight to be considered for Glamour's new "I'm in a financial pickle" blog. At least that's what I've been calling it. I have plenty of fodder for that! And then I'm going to paint my nails and watch Top Chef with Kristen and try to savor each and every moment, not worried about what comes next.

Tomorrow: lunch with Mari, job interview at 3pm at Fetch (yes, a doggy-themed restaurant for a pet website interview), and picking up Melissa at Penn Station, who is going to be my Valentine. That's when the adventures will start.

I miss Portland. I can forget that when I'm caught up in the sea of people on the sidewalk or on the subway. I've always loved being in transit. But sitting still... This morning, I woke up and thought for a minute, looking out the window, I could be in my living room, hearing the traffic on Belmont. I just want brown walls like Kristen's.

Trying It On For Size

2009-02-09T23:50:00.003-05:00

I've fantasized about living in New York since I first started reading magazines – first, my mom's Glamour, then begging for my own subscription to Teen magazine when I was merely 11 or 12. I pictured myself growing up to wear power stilettos and stylish skirts, strutting through the hallways of a highrise office, then snaking through the crowded sidewalks to sexy after-work cocktails. I dreamed of the Sex and the City life before it ever materialized on HBO.

At the same time, I was really most comfortable curling up with a book, not flitting around crowds of popular girls; I couldn't wait to go to college, picturing myself carrying great books from class to class, thinking hard, writing furiously. Were I to imagine a night I'd most look forward to, it usually involved a fire, hot cider and a novel, puzzle or movie – not the glitz and glamour of the big city. I am, at my core, a nerd, but have a developed a finely tuned ability to fit in with the cool kids.

When I went to New York in 2003 for the ASME internship, I was breaking out of my shell, trying on that magazine persona for size. And it seemed to fit. I felt at home, more confident than I'd ever been, vibrant, curious, full of energy – my best self. But I was living in a fantasy, a three-month-long bubble sustained by parent-funded NYU housing at Union Square, credit cards, alcohol, and the pristine confidence of youth (I know, I'm only 27, but it feels like ages from 21!). It was exhilarating to have New York City as my playground, with every opportunity available, untarnished by reality. But five years later, that is not the New York I would be returning to – and I'm not so sure that was the real me, but someone so entranced by the city that she was able to fully lose herself in the role.

Do I sound jaded? Cynical? Perhaps it's the Seasonal Affective Disorder we Portlanders are prone to. But perhaps it's the realization that I don't want to pretend anymore. Without a job or a plan for the first time in my life, I am being forced to confront my self at the most bare, stripped of the roles I have taken on all my life to fit in. I am increasingly haunted by the notion that I've chosen what I "like" based on external expectations and approval – i.e. what's "cool." I fear that I've been ignoring my internal voice for so long that it's stopped trying to be heard. Do I want to continue on this career path? Why, really, did I choose it in the first place? Who am I if not an "Editor"? What makes me truly, deeply happy? And where do I belong? Quarter-life existential crisis, indeed!

I'm flying to New York in ten hours. I have an interview for a web startup focusing on pets. I should be excited. I have pictured myself strutting in to the meeting in killer heels, full of the same blustery confidence that I had (or faked so well) five years ago. But something doesn't feel right. It may be fear. It may be the paralyzing inertia of not working for three months. Or it may not be the right thing for the real me. I already miss Portland – for the first time in a long time, I don't want to leave. But I have to go, to find out the truth about what I really want. And I plan to curl up with a good book after I knock their socks off.

(I'll [try to] post here daily during the trip if you want to follow the adventures – I promise much more fun interspersed with the introspective ramblings!)

Street PONY, Where Have You Been?

2009-02-09T02:36:00.004-05:00

Almost three years ago, when I was first started editing PDX Magazine, I also began noticing toy horses tied to rings on the sidewalk around town. At the time, there wasn't this website to explain the phenomenon. But researching it for one of the our "PDXplained" columns, I discovered that a local artist, Scott Wayne Indiana, looked at the old rings where Portlanders used to tie real horses as a sadly discarded relic of a bygone era, and decided to resurrect them with the tongue-in-cheek toy horses. It became a community effort, with new horses appearing all over town, one of those fabulous, spontaneous creative projects that makes Portland so vibrant.

I hadn't seen a new horse, though, for a year or more until yesterday, when I stumbled on this pink pony in Southeast. It quite simply made my day. I hadn't realized how much I missed them. And what it symbolizes – the urban canvas of a city bursting with visionary talent – speaks for both New York and Portland. So I've decided it's the new "mascot" of PONYtales. Now we just need a name...

UPDATE: Found My Dream Job, Now What?

2009-02-06T22:05:00.000-05:00

I have a new six-word memoir: Accidentally stole your books from Powell's.

This past Monday I went to the "reading" for SMITH Mag's new book, Six-Word Memoirs on Love & Heartbreak. The crowd was disappointingly small (no standers) and not very forthcoming with their own stories when the mic was passed around, but the editors, Larry Smith and Rachel Fershleiser, were lively, witty and obviously passionate about the project. I can relate!

With opportunity staring me in the face, I got the books signed (both the original, Not Quite What I Was Planning, and the new one) and tried to oh-so subtly work into the conversation that a) I'm an out-of-work editor/writer, and b) I would love to work with them. Except I just blurted out, "I'm an out-of-work editor and would love to work with you." So much for subtle. Thankfully, Rachel was incredibly nice, and despite the fact that "there's no money in it," I left with some SMITH lip balm, her email and the inscription, "If you want some unpaid editing work, you know where to find us!" So while a dream job is usually one that also pays the bills, I'm willing to overlook that technicality to be a part of such a compelling project.

Oh, and in the flurry of my excitement (seriously, meeting editors I admire is like meeting movie stars for regular people), I tucked the books into my purse, completely forgetting that I had yet to pay for them downstairs, and just walked right out. I didn't realize my shoplifting ways 'til I got home. I'm ashamed to not have financially supported our indie bookstore and my new friends (ha!), but I'm assuaging my guilt by looking at the $15 I saved as a down payment on my unpaid editing work. Yeah?

It's Business Time

2009-01-31T20:03:00.010-05:00

Breaking news, y'all! Who will be gracing Arlene Schnitzer Concert Hall in May? None other than our favorite kiwis, Bret and Jemaine!

Yep, the Brooklyn-via-New-Zealand-residing Flight of the Conchords are finally making a stop in dear ole Portland. Jemaine, with his brooding, bespeckled eyes; Bret with his adorable thrift store animal sweatshirts – I simply love, love, love these boys. Hell, I was Mel for Halloween two years ago (which, I think, makes me the 6th or 7th best "weirdo" fan, according to Wired):

The only problem: Do I push my move back to May to see the magic in person? I am seriously tempted. I'm starting to scheme how I can score an interview with them to get their PONY impressions....stay tuned. (Speaking of, watch the second season on HBO, Sundays at 10pm!)

And because I can never get enough:

The Perils of Being a Hummer

2009-01-30T21:44:00.013-05:00

I remember the moment I realized my last name was slang for a sex act. I was watching Saturday Night Live at 12 or 13, and they used "hummer" in a skit. (This whole time, I thought it involved Monica Lewinsky and a book called "How to Give the President a Hummer," but Wikipedia has just reminded me that the scandal didn't break until four years later, so I'm not sure I can trust my memory at all.) Whatever the context, I knew exactly what they were referring to, and I whirled around to my dad, desperately embarrassed – but also irrationally angry that he'd never warned me of this legacy before (in hindsight, I'm very glad we never had that awkward conversation).

Until then, I had, amazingly, never been the target of lewd jokes. All I knew was that Hummer means "lobster" in German, and according to our third grade lesson about surnames, that meant my ancestors were lobster fishermen (where did they do this in Germany? I've never figured that out...). Oh yeah, and it was also the name of those monoliths of the road, which back then were owned by only the military and Arnold Schwarzenegger. The Hummer car company actually sent us a catalog once, full of sweatshirts, key chains, mugs and other tsotchkes – did they junk-mail assault all my distant relatives across the land? Nice marketing trick, guys. I know that I'm "Like Nothing Else," but I don't need to wear it on a T-shirt.

There are certain things you get used to with this last name. I've inevitably collected some curious lobster knick knacks. When I say my last name to close a bar tab, bartenders raise their eyebrows as though I must be joking. Dating...well, let's just say it creates certain high hopes. Even just platonic guy friends never get tired of calling me "Hummer." And I get every Hummer (vehicle)-related news story forwarded to my inbox, making me a mini-expert on a car I loathe. Today's installment, from my dad: Hummer Drivers Get More Tickets. A Lot More. [from Wired] Not too surprising, right? They're bullies on the road. But are they being unfairly targeted because the tanks attract so much attention? Or do Hummer drivers think they're big enough to break the rules more often? I'm going with the latter (and the experts agree). As my dad said, "Our name is being besmirched by 'colossal jerks'!"

I used to think I wouldn't hesitate to change my name when I got married. There's only so many times you can say, "Yes, like the car," knowing the person is really thinking that you've got a great porn star name. These days, though, I think I should hang on to it. Someone's gotta give the name a...well, good name!

By the way, wondering what the PONY connection is in this post? I found a fellow Elizabeth Hummer in New York (who has made the name proud with Hummer Productions). For now, until I tip the scales eastward, we're yet another thing the two cities have in common.

Random Thoughts & Links: Puddles

2009-01-27T23:41:00.006-05:00

I walked all the way home from the cafe tonight, wearing galoshes, and never once splish-splashed through the puddles. I carefully stepped around them without even thinking. Where was my head?? Following unnecessary rules for no good reason? Lame! Just a reminder to me to focus less on what I should do and more on what I could do.

In the spirit (puddles), check out what this neato photo set of reflections in the street. He needs to come to Portland, but in the meantime, there's plenty of NY.

Cold Comfort

2009-01-27T20:49:00.005-05:00

When I read about the 65,000+ jobs eliminated across the world yesterday – yes, in one day – I felt a conflicted emotion that has become all too familiar over the past three unemployed months: the (slightly hollow) comfort of knowing I'm not alone, rapidly followed by panicked awareness that this means even more competition for the few job openings that pop up. Having already heard that a couple jobs I applied for received upwards of 400, 500 resumes, it's all enough to make me want to curl up in bed and hibernate for the winter.

To battle the dark curtain of depression – and resist the reassuring, but motivation-zapping, warmth of my down comforter – I'm trying to keep a sense of humor. And sometimes that means indulging in those "at least I'm not as bad off as that guy..." comparisons. Today's treat: photos of Wired's Saddest Cubicle Contest winners. No matter what, I am thankful to have traded the cage for the coffeeshop.

Safety First

2009-01-22T16:37:00.006-05:00

Growing up in a college town with the most bicycles per capita in the country (Davis, CA) spoils you just a bit. I was riding to school by myself at 7-years-old. I could get to most friends' houses without even hitting a street, instead using the extensive Greenbelt network of playgrounds, grass fields and paths. And when I did hit the roads with the big, scary cars, there were wide, designated bike lanes on every street – not to mention the dedicated bike traffic lights and with more bikes than cars, the most genuine "share the road" philosophy I've ever experienced (I've yet to go to Amsterdam, though, so we'll see).

So when I moved to Portland, which proudly proclaims it's bike-friendliness, I was, well... underwhelmed (seriously: Davis has 100 miles of bike lanes vs. Portland's 38; 17% of Davis residents commute by bike vs. 9% of Portlanders [for real]). And overwhelmed at the same time. With bigger and busier streets, bridges, hills and some horribly designed intersections, I did not feel like the city was inviting me to ride. Instead, I was scared. A lifelong bicyclist, and it took me eight years to hop on two wheels again.

Thankfully, I finally grew some balls and regained my confidence; now, carless for the first time since I got my learner's permit, I ride everywhere. But I still get nervous at night, especially on streets with no bike lane. So I'm rooting for this LightLane to go into mass production:

[Copyright Altitude, via their blog Dustbowl]

While those new neon green boxes surely help vehicles notice cyclists in the daytime, this laser-projected bike lane will do wonders once the sun goes down – your own little safety zone trailing out behind you wherever you ride! It may label me a scaredy-cat nerd (I'm sure the fixed gear-heads wouldn't be caught dead with one), but I'd rather that than end up as another ghost bike.

(And yes, I do realize now that I am, again, spoiled with biking amenities in Portland. I'm not sure what waits for me in New York; although I imagine parts of Brooklyn will feel similar in both scale and hipsters-on-vintage-bikes population, I wouldn't even want to drive in Manhattan, let alone ride my bike. Two recent developments, however – a buzzed-about bike rack design competition and controversy-inducing bike lane on Grand Street separated from traffic by parked cars – leave me hopeful that I'll find a similar bike culture across the country. Now let's just hope it doesn't take me another eight years to adjust to a bigger city this time!)

Found My Dream Job, Now What?

2009-01-13T02:37:00.004-05:00

That was six words.

How would you tell your life story in six words? That's what SMITH Magazine is all about. Well, they're all about storytelling, and using new social media to do it. The six words idea came from a "legend" that Hemingway was challenged to tell a story in only six words. He wrote, "For sale: Baby shoes, never worn." A couple years ago, the two guys behind SMITH put the same challenge to the people via Twitter. The overwhelming response was published in early 2008. I came across the book in a small bookstore in Astoria; why I didn't buy it, since I couldn't put it down, I don't know. But an article about their most recent book, focusing specifically on love & heartbreak, brought me back.

So, what would your six-word memoir be? My problem is that I can't settle on just one. Here are two, in case you're wondering:

People-pleaser, finally making herself happy. • Leaving life of leisure for NYC.

And a third, the title above. I find almost nothing as fascinating as people's stories (yes, I'm voyeuristic that way) – especially told through their own words. I know the MySpace/Facebook world we now live in, which has pretty much decimated privacy, can get tiresome, putting every life on display. But that's why SMITH's curated collections are so important. And the six words leave you wondering, filling in the gaps, imagining the history, the future. Obviously, I would so love to work there. Maybe a special PONY category?

I Love Musicians

2009-01-11T23:24:00.002-05:00

I had a mini-panic attack over the weekend about moving; I let my neuroses get the better of me (unfortunately not a rare occurrence) and started freaking out that I won't have enough money, won't find a job, won't find a place to live, won't have the moxie to make it in New York. That combined with some nostalgia about Portland made me wonder if I've really made the right decision.

Then a few musicians stepped in to remind me why it's worth the risk.

First, My Morning Jacket's Jim James told New York Magazine why he moved to NYC from Louisville:

"I wanted to find different ways to see the world, and reinvent myself, and try to wipe the slate clean. The pace is a little slower back home. I love the unpredictability of the city. I feel like I'm playing some crazy game here – like I'm Pac-Man or something. Even when I'm sleeping I'm there playing the game. Somehow I'm not my normal self. Yet maybe I'm more my normal self than I was before?"

And here I thought he was just an epic guitar player (see Kristen's pics from their Edgefield show in September). Turns out he has also perfectly expressed why I want – need – to move. I love Portland. And watching it grow and change over these eight years has been amazing. But now it's time for me to grow and change. To get out of my comfort zone (and let's face it, Portland is almost too comfortable!), to build a new life as an adult, to see who I am in a new environment, faced with new challenges and new adventures. It's the classic twenty-something manifesto, I know. Thing is, I have never felt more myself than I did in New York during the ASME internship summer of 2003. I showed up all alone and made some of the best friends of my life. I found a place for my spastic (and yes, neurotic) energy amidst the buzz of the city. I'm more than ready to be back. Jim James calls it Pac-Man; George Costanza played Frogger in the streets. I think my game will be more like Tetris, fitting the angular, mismatched pieces of myself together in the nooks and crannies of the city.

And second, the next night, I hung out with my ex, now friend, Mike (Johnson - Reclinerland and Parks & Recreation). He, too, is feeling restless in Portland, so we had lots to talk about. [Side note: He's always wanted to live in London, and I got him M. Sasek's classic children's book This is London when we were dating. This time, two years later, he brought me This is New York. Is he not the best ex-boyfriend ever?] Long story short, he recorded a cover of The Pogues' "Fairytale of New York" with Grey Anne. I know, the lyrics are pretty depressing (broken hearts, addiction), but the name and the one line ("I can see a better time / When all our dreams come true") make it my new theme song. Listen to their darling rendition here.

[One more tangent: Got a better theme song idea for this PONY stage of my life? I'd love to hear it! I'm terrible at remembering songs off the top of my head. During my radio stint last Friday, there was a segment on the best movie montage songs of all time. I would really love to see this time of my life as a movie montage. And I need a song!]

Living the Dream?

2009-01-09T00:07:00.008-05:00

I had coffee today with an old acquaintance (I wish there was a warmer word for someone you know, have never really hung out with, but would like to be friends with). I met him probably over three years ago, back when Kristen and I first thought of PONY. He was always a fan of the idea, even marveled at the fact that I hadn't already ridden my PONY off to New York already (to paraphrase) when he first emailed me again several months ago. So seeing him today was fitting.

Why? Well, because five years after I first fell in love with the city, I'm finally doing it. Call me crazy, but in the bleakest economic climate in my lifetime (and my parents'), when the future of print publishing is in question, I'm moving to New York. I suppose getting laid off and being single for the longest period since college (which means more than a measly two months) will make you do slightly crazy things. If I don't do it now, with this complete freedom, I never will.

So what better time to start blogging again? Over the next three months, I'll be trying to build a bridge between PO and NY, living that PONY concept more empirically than ever. I have no idea what will happen, but that's the adventure. And in honor of the seeking, fearless spirit that I'm trying to nurture, let's take a look at some fellow Portlanders who are headed East:

• Leanne Marshall: Winner of Project Runway Season 5, making Portland very proud and bringing national attention to our thriving indie fashion scene. She told TV Guide about her plans to move right after winning, and Portland Monthly recently reported that she's apartment-hunting. Not sure what her timeline is, but they also note she's hired the new Portland Garment Factory to sew her designs. High-profile "Made in Portland" fashions in New York – PONY, indeed.

• Stumptown Coffee: In name and essence, there may be nothing that embodies Portland more than our most beloved local coffee roasters. Rumblings about a possible migration began a year ago, when the Ace Hotel – which Stumptown caffeinates locally – announced they'd be opening an NYC location. It became official when founder Duane Sorenson moved to Brooklyn, reported by The New York Times in August. He'll open a cafe and roastery in Red Hook, plus make good on that Ace Hotel rumor this year. If only I drank coffee, I'd be all set!

Now, I know I'm not nearly as well-known as these two Portlanders. But they prove that even in a metropolis overflowing with their specialties, if you do it well, with that unique Northwest pioneering energy, you can make it. And at a time when so much is uncertain, I find comfort in hopping on the PDX-NYC wave they're surfing. I'll be updating the list with new finds – building momentum – so check back. Updated sidebar links and more PONY posts as well!

Come and get it!

2006-12-08T19:26:00.001-05:00

Those of us who live in Portland know why it's awesome here. I'm don't need to get into all that. The thing is, we kind of want to keep it a secret so we're not overrun with douches who want to turn us into the next LA or Vegas or something equally cringe-worthy. Like Sacramento.

So while I feel proud that Frommer's has named Portland one of the Top Travel Destinations for 2007 (amongst Krakow, Poland; Tokyo, Zurich, and the original Portland in Maine), I don't really want the hordes to descend upon us in white socks and sandles, matching khaki shorts and - god forbid - umbrellas when it's rainy. Do I sound like a snob? Sorry. I shouldn't, especially because the magazine I edit targets visitors to the city, and I want them to feel as welcome as the longtime natives and converted residents. But let's just hope only a certain kind of tourist is attracted to our fair City of Roses. They don't all have to be hipsters - in fact, that might be even worse - but I certainly don't want them to be Parrot Heads or conservatives.

Oh yeah, and couldn't Frommer's have been a little more original with their description of Portland? Yes, we love Mt. Hood, the Columbia River and all the outdoor activities; we take advantage of the waterfront for pickup soccer and bike riding; and we're proud of our innovative restaurant scene. But there are cooler areas than the "Pearl River warehouse/loft neighborhood," and the Willamette Valley pinot noir scene is kind of old news. I do like the Kennedy School, though. If you really want to know what's cool in PDX, may I suggest you download a copy of PDX Magazine? Of course I may!

An Inconvenient Truth

2006-11-26T19:51:00.001-05:00

It seems that the connection between Portland and New York may be more tangible than I originally thought: According to New York mag's The Five Year Forecast, the legendary Pacific Northwest climate is slowly creeping to NYC thanks to global warming (in the long run) and a new El Nino phenomenon (starting this winter). So does that mean Hawaii's climate is coming to us? Or maybe Alaska's?

Really, though, I wouldn't trade our drizzly winter weather (and sometimes snowy like tonight - yay!) for 300 days of sun. That's just too much for me. But so is a winter frozen solid for months. So maybe Mother Nature can leave things as they are here and simply share our weather with New York. They always have to copy us, don't they? At least we'd be able to stop hearing, "I've heard it rains a lot there."

Kiddie Rock

2006-11-26T19:42:00.001-05:00

I tried to play the guitar at some point in my adolescence. I think I was 12 or so, and my dad plopped down the cash for a beautiful acoustic guitar and weekly lessons so I could back up my wannabe rocker chick persona with actual chops. Alas, I am not so musically gifted, and though I may have learned enough to play a mean "Me and Bobby McGee," I never even mastered "Stairway to Heaven."

I bring up my failed music career because of an article I came across in last Sunday's New York Times: Mama Was a Riot Grrrl? Then Pick Up a Guitar and Play. The trend in New York—and mainly Brooklyn—it seems, is for kids as young as 8 to rock out in fairly successful local bands like Care Bears on Fire and Tiny Masters of Today. Hell, these all-kid bands even got their own Saturday afternoon showcase during the CMJ Music Fest, the top festival for scouting emerging bands. And some of them, inevitably, have famous parents (Spalding Gray, Steve Buscemi, Susan Sarandon and Tim Robbins).

The thing is, it's not that kid bands are anything new, as the article points out (I mean, remember the Jackson 5?), but these new musician tykes are all about indie rock—practicing in basements, playing shows at places like Arlene's Grocery and the Knitting Factory, and citing influences like the Clash and the Pixies—a far cry from the manufactured pop kiddies of the past.

And where are these kids learning about good ole rock 'n roll? Why, from their hipster parents, of course. An article in New York magazine called them "grups" (taken from a Star Trek episode about a planet where there are no adults), the 30- and 40-something creative professionals who wear band t-shirts and Converse, carry messenger bags and listen to The Strokes on their iPods. And when they have kids, they turn them into mini-hipsters, playing Sufjan Stevens in the womb and dressing them in CBGB t-shirts and checkered Vans. Hmmmm....I think all the Portlanders out there would agree that grups are not just indigenous to Brooklyn.

Indeed, neither is the kiddie rock movement. The charming pre-teen sister duo Smoosh came down from Seattle to play our own MusicfestNW in September, and the Rock 'n Roll Camp for Girls has been a local institution since 2000. In fact, New York followed our lead with that camp by establishing the Willie Mae Rock Camp for Girls in 2004. (One final PONY connection: ten-year-old Izzy Schappell-Spillman, a member of Care Bears on Fire—who were also profiled in an even better New York mag article on the topic—attended the original Portland camp since her parents spend much of their time at local lit journal Tin House, which they co-founded.)

It's pretty obvious, then, that it's about time for Portland to nourish the kiddie bands in our own backyard, perhaps creating monthly showcases or cultivating more all-ages nights and venues. I may not have been skilled enough able to play in a band during my childhood, but that doesn't mean I won't be writing an article about those who can in the magazine soon (hint hint). And in the meantime, maybe I'll break out my old guitar and strum a few chords; it's never too late—or too early—to rock out.

It's about damn time!

2006-11-21T09:20:00.000-05:00

Wow. It's been something like a year and a half since I lasted posted on my beloved blog. How sad is that?

Pretty sad....but is it as sad as the fact that I'm at work right now after having been here all night making edits to the December issue and waiting for five copies to print so the staff can do a final proof tomorrow? Wish I could say I would be able to sleep all day tomorrow (a favorite pasttime of mine), but I can't because we have to do the final close of the issue. Ahhh, the "glamourous" life of a magazine editor.

But that's not what this is about....in my sleep-deprived delirium, I've finally gotten off my ass and logged back onto Blogger. I've been thinking about resurrecting PONYtales for awhile now, and I guess now's the time.

As a gentle way to break back in to our theme of Portland-New York, you should all check out Overheard in PDX, inspired by another favorite, the original, Overheard in New York. You won't believe what people say. Would be interested to embark on a qualitative study of how overheard comments differ in New York and Portland....hmmmm.

Oh yeah, and notice the reciprocal link to the magazine on the Overheard in PDX site. Love it!

And now back to my real job, the thing that people actually read...at least that's what I'm told.

Straight from the PONY's mouth

2005-08-27T18:16:00.000-04:00

Long time no blog! I have been swamped at work getting free massages and facials for an article I'm writing on "hidden gem" spas around Portland, exploring haunted sites for a Halloween-theme article and finding out all about every single awesome event coming to town in the coming months. It's pretty freakin' sweet!

Anyway, I guess it's no surprise, then, that now that I'm working at a city-focused magazine, my posts seem to be focused on the Portland media world (the editor-in-chief leaving Portland Monthly). As many misgivings that I have about that magazine, I have to admit that I appreciated a recent PONY-style piece they did called "NY State of Mind." Some of the staffers were in the Big Apple recently and asked people they came across what they knew about Portland. The responses:

Driver: "I've only heard of Oregon."
[What do you know about it?]
"Nothing."
[Just that it's west?]
"I didn't even know that."

Product developer: "Good hospitals. OBGYN researchers in Portland. It's a good market to test new products."

Hotel doorman: "Home of Nike. That's all I know."

Bartender: "The love of my life left me and moved there, so I have mixed feelings."

Woman at lunch: "Powell's Books. Beer."

Marketing exec: "It's so lush and beautiful. My husband toured with Imago Theatre there. I'd love to get back there."

Coffee cart guy: "Isn't it somewhere in the United Kingdom?"

Cabbie: "Is that a store? I'm embarrassed to say I don't even know where it is."

Some predictable, some sad....I know when I lived in New York, most east coasters didn't know much about good ole Portland - common question, "What there?" "What's it like there?" - but everyone who has since visited me has fallen in love with it (Kristin, Brooke). Well, duh!

Oh, and by the way, they illustrated the piece by showing quote bubbles coming out of an apple half. Ugh.

Trouble in paradise?

2005-08-11T22:05:00.000-04:00

Some interesting news on the Portland media front:

Rumor has it (thanks for the heads up, Jen!) that Louise Lague, the new editor-in-chief of Portland Monthly, has been ousted after only 2 months on the job. Yikes! I'm never sure what's going on over there anymore because the two founding editors I worked with left awhile ago (hmmm, now I wonder why...), but something's gotta be up. Check out the more informed gossip at Portland Media Watch (why didn't I know about this blog before today?!).

After only 3 days on the job at PDX Magazine, I can only imagine what all the media gossips will be saying about us in a couple weeks. I guess it's all a part of the job description, especially in such a small market as Portland (hell, even the biggest market - New York - is riddled with gossip!). Us media folks are such navel gazers! I'd apologize, but I just can't help it.

Give and Take

2005-08-04T23:44:00.000-04:00

Sometimes my Dad is on top of some pop culture stuff before me - yes, it's painful to admit, but it's true. Yesterday, I paid him and my cat, Boo, a visit, and he was watching Al Gore's new TV channel, Current.

I'd heard of the channel, of course, because I get various media-related newsletters, but other than the name and Al Gore, I didn't really know anything about it. Well, it turns out that it's sort of a blog for TV....short segments (no more than 15-minutes), many of them produced and submitted to the channel from real people (some crazy guy base jumping off cliffs, another wacky one working random jobs, a documentary of the characters working at the fulton fish market in nyc, etc), and other regular segments like "current Google" - a (young and hip, of course) talking head making comments about Google search results based on a certain word - "current Mentor" - words of advice from people like Deepak Chopra (write in and tell them who you want to hear from) - "current Gig" - a day in the life of a certain job (it's a young female minister right now) - "The Current Parent" - chronicles a young couple becoming parents - "current Maverick" - a profile on someone breaking boundaries (a motorcross racer with lots of scars right now) - "current Culture" - currently (ha!) highlighting the urban acrobats of parkour - "current Hottie" - a, yes, very hot Abercrombie & Fitch model - and more.

My favorite is "current Style" (duh!), though I hate that it's obviously sponsored by Loreal. Still, they had this great feature on last night about La Miroiterie, an artists' co-op in Paris that includes a "store" full of stuff - if see something you want, you take it and leave something you don't want behind. Yeah, I know that it's pretty much the age-old barter/trade system, but it is freakin' BRILLIANT!

Right now, the back seat of my car is full of clothes I don't want anymore, but I'm not quite ready to just give them away. I've tried to sell them several times at Buffalo Exchange, always hoping to get a different buyer, hoping they'll be buying for a new season, but I've still got piles and piles of garments they don't want. If I could trade them for stuff that's at least new to me, I would have no problem unloading my stuff for "free." I just really love the idea that the clothes (or books or movies or music or plates or whatever) that I'm sick of could make someone else really happy, and vice versa. It's all relative. Not to mention how great it would be to just keep all this stuff in circulation, not adding to landfills and not buying new stuff to pile on top of it all. And you know me, little miss consumer, so if even I like this idea, than it must be good!

I think I should open a store (or "co-op") like this in Portland - I'll call it PDXchange. It'll be a hit....though it won't make me any money. Then again, I guess the lack of money has never really stopped me before (i.e. my low-paying journalism/magazine career)...

So, to sum it all up, check out Current TV, channel 125 on Comcast in Portland! And trade yo' stuff!

New Job!

2005-07-31T18:51:00.000-04:00

So I haven't really talked about it a while lot on here because I try to avoid posting to many monotonous details of my professional life, but obviously I have a new job to announce, so I should back up a bit and explain...I have been job searching for the past three weeks. My boss at PR-at-Large, Nikki, is finally making the move to get out of PR and start her own clothing line and/or boutique, a dream she's held for a long time, and is therefore phasing out the business, doing less PR for our clients, leaving not enough money and not enough work to justify my current full-time position. I will keep doing part-time work with her on my own time, but yikes, what about my bills and what about the development of my career??

Yeah, I was pretty well freaked the f#@k out when all this went down, but I tried to stick with the positive outlook I struggle to maintain, looking at this transition as an opportunity for something better. And, luckily, it has turned out to be just that!

I'm starting next week as an Editorial Assistant at new PDX Magazine, set to launch in October. Modeled on the Time Out-style "Listings Bible," it's going to be a monthly publication of entertainment, culture, nightlife, shopping, restaurant, events (etc) features and listings.

I have a feeling that my adventures and research on the job will provide a lot of fodder for the blog, and the experience will prove invaluable to turning PONY into a full-fledged mag itself one day (soon)...so stay tuned!

My Portland Picks

2005-07-29T19:31:00.000-04:00

I made a little debut today, as a contributor to the local weekly e-newsletter and website Portland Picks. Yeah, so my name's not showcased anywhere, but as Mari so nicely pointed out, my "voice shines through (in the bestest of ways)." Check them all out yourself and guess which ones are mine (okay, it can't be #7, but still...I'll post the answers if I get some comments, so post your guesses please!):

Portland Picks:

1 Just Like Heaven

One word for Healing Waters & Sacred Spaces—utopia. We met our masseuse, Brenda, downstairs in the gift shop (next to the gallery) and she led us upstairs to a very serene, warm, welcoming spa space. We felt relaxed before we even received the treatment. Brenda made us feel like an old friend, as if we’d just popped in for a cup of tea.

We treated ourselves to the 90-minute Intuitive Massage & Energy Infusion. Ninety fabulous minutes of lying there in pure rapture as Brenda guided us to a place of serene tranquility. Each massage is unique, depending on what state you’re in, so it’s not a cookie-cutter rubdown. Brenda applied hot stones, essential oils, and even used a tuning fork at the end to deepen our state of relaxation and soothe our overtaxed nervous systems. This should be mandatory for all of us.

She described Healing Waters & Sacred Spaces as a “collective of people who do healing work.” Try a session of Gemstone Healing, Reiki, Sound Therapy, Aromatherapy, or a Soul-Card Reading. They have specialists in all of them! (Our ideal day would be to come in and have a treatment from everyone on staff, pure research and pure heaven.)

Release all that negative energy and find your center. You deserve to unwind and feel divine. You owe this to yourself. And tell them Portland Picks sent you – you’ll get 10% off your first massage!

Healing Waters & Sacred Spaces
2426 NE Broadway
503.528.1430
livingsacred.com

2 You Are Such a Baddoll

There are few things cuter on this planet than baby-size shoes. We want to bronze all of the baby shoes - not just the customary one! And though Baddoll Shoes is really a place for grownups, the itty-bitty Converse and Chuck Taylors (in crayon colors, no less) completely captured our hearts.

We also loved the funky selection of Faryl Robin and Fornarina shoes – we have a super-duper big soft-spot in our hearts for Fornarinas – along with brands like Puma and Diesel, for women and men. From what they tell us, the sportier shoes are flying out of the store, as are the Reef flip flops – after all, it is summer. Oh, and they have Puma flip flops for just $15! Inexpensive enough to buy a couple pairs and keep them in the car for impromptu afternoons at the beach!

Baddoll Shoes
808 NW 23rd
503.525.2202
baddoll.com

3 We’ll be in the Powder Room

Want to have fun shopping for sparkly glam hippie clothes that won’t break your budget?

The Powder Room is “that place.” We loved their mad selection of platform sandals and inexpensive bags and baubles. Big gaudy rings on the cheap? We love it! Camis in every color, with or without beading? We love it! It’s like your hippest hippie girlfriend crashed into a glam-rock video. Totally awesome! (And from what we hear, the biggest seller is the Paradigm dress with delish candy stripes, a halter neck and a leather tie…for only $44.95.)

Don’t tell everyone about it; just go get one for yourself! Watch as others glance at you in envy and then do the kind thing—send them to the Powder Room!

The Powder Room
814 NW 23rd
503.248.9160

4 Get Tangled

Because we are, let’s just say, frenetic, the act of sitting down and actually relaxing or even watching TV is a challenge. We never thought of ourselves as the scrapbooking, berry picking, jam making, knitting type, though we’ve always admired those that could do such things.

Knitting in particular has taken on a very cool, glamorous, Zen-like reputation. With all the gorgeous accessories and luxurious yarns to choose from, it’s become so fashionable. And it isn’t just Grandma who’s doing it. All the models, celebs, and even college students are curling up and creating. It’s a whole new fantabulous trend. And we think it’s about time to try our hand at knitting. (Who’d a thought?) Just a quick private class and poof, we’re making a scarf ! (Cross your fingers for us.) We’ve always held romantic visions of ourselves knitting feverishly next to the big fireplace up at Timberline. The trick is that knitting is a communal habit. It is about making time with a beloved pal to sit and knit.

And our new hangout, Tangle Knitting, also has group classes and events. Our favorite: Stitch and Bitch. And if that’s not enough to get you knitting, check out their amazing knitting handbags (they look like carpet bags...gorgeous!) We’re sold.

Tangle Knitting
440 1st Street
Lake Oswego
503-636-knit

5 Ellaina Comes to Town

We know what you’re thinking; you love the idea of local designers, but you’re not sure you have the cash or the panache to actually buy those often edgy, expensive styles. Well then, check out Sue Bradbury’s soft, comfy, classic-with-a-twist designs at Ellaina.com.

It’s hard to believe that this San Diego transplant has only been living in Portland for a month. From all corners, we are receiving rave reviews about her stuff, and we’re not surprised. Lightweight soft mint-green shrugs, clingy tees with leaf appliqués and lace cutouts, plush pink curve-hugging cords and flowy floral skirts are just some of the feminine pieces that will surely become our wardrobe essentials for the rest of the summer and into the fall. Oh and lest we forget one of our favorite parts, all of the items are priced within our budget ($60 cords, $25 tanks), so now we really can stock our closet with unique, handmade local designs!

Eventually, Sue plans to open a brick-and-mortar Ellaina boutique just like the one she had in San Diego, but until then, you can pick up her designs at Say Say Boutique and Fix Gallery, as well as online at Ellaina.com.

Although we loved playing dress-up in person, it’s also worth it to check out the website for “pair with” ideas as well as purses, belts and jewelry and Sue’s own personal online journal detailing her inspirations and observations of her new home, “the most beautiful place I’ve ever been.” Well thank you, Sue, we love you, too! When newcomers can’t resist Portland, we can’t resist them!

Sue Bradbury available at: www.Ellaina.com

* Say Say Boutique
1010 SW Morrison
* Fix Gallery
811 East Burnside

ellaina.com

6 Quilted Memories

We tried to clean our closet this week. We planned to stick with the if-you-haven’t-worn-it-in-a-year-then-toss-it rule, but we didn’t accomplish much. Our old prom dress, skinny jeans, the ex-boyfriend’s college t-shirt and countless other nostalgic wardrobe pieces are still lingering. We don’t know about you, but we’d have lots more room in our closet for cute NEW clothes if we got rid of these blasts from the past, but we can’t bear to part with them.

Cue Lori Mason to the rescue. The former Nike textile designer turned to quilting 6 years ago with Lori Mason Design, and now she creates personal commemorative quilts out of your precious fabrics. Wedding and baby quilts are quite popular to mark those life-changing occasions, but we also like the idea of creating our own personal security blanket out of the garments that have made us happy through the years. We’ll curl up with the soft satin of that first fancy dress, run our fingers over the worn letters on his shirt we used to sleep in, revel in the memories of how hot those jeans made our butt look back in our heyday, and smile.

Lori also creates ready-made quilts with a modern edge, using wool suiting materials or linen. Her designs are clean and simple, making us think more of West Elm than Amish country. Prices range from $400 for a throw to $5000 for an intricate king-sized spread. Prices for commemorative quilts vary depending on size, pattern (Lori uses only her own original patterns) and number of fabrics used. You are investing in an heirloom. These will be the things the kids argue over.

lorimasondesign.com

7 You are One Hot Mama

When I was nursing the twins, I was afraid to leave the house. I was constantly starved, binging on Raisin Bran at 2 a.m. and listening to the neighbors partying next door. My surreal life consisted of alternating between nursing and pumping (sometimes on high speed to just be done with it, which of course wreaked havoc later). But I couldn’t leave my house because my poor starving twins never stopped nursing. And my bra, yuck! Though I must say I had quite a rack (for a fleeting moment anyway). At that time, sexy was not something I was feeling.

Many companies have claimed to have a "sexy" nursing bra, but their idea of sexy is offering one in black. Ho-hum. Now there’s a new local company that really is making the first-ever, sexy and functional nursing bra! De Ma Vie was started by two nursing mothers who thought, "Why must nursing bras be so unflattering?" We’re trussed up like Vikings when our bras are getting the most frequent viewing by the husbands! . One of the women, Heather Chamberlain, is the creative designer behind the De Ma Vie line and the model on the website. The De Ma Vie line was created in a Portland-area suburb where Heather currently lives with her two children.

Times have changed. And see, it isn’t an oxymoron....you can be a sexy mom, especially in De Ma Vie.

De Ma Vie
503-533-1751

demavie.com

8 Gelato comes to Old Town

We have dreams of being a flapper in the Roaring 20s. We can picture our hair in a bob while sporting a drop-waist dress and hanging out in the speakeasy with our bootlegger boyfriend. That’s why we love Chumley’s in New York, an old speakeasy in Greenwich Village, complete with a steel peep-slot in the nondescript wood door.

Back home in Portland, we’re always on the lookout for places with the same secret, underground cool, which is why we love love love the new Old Town Gelato. An offshoot of Old Town Pizza on NW Davis between 2nd & 3rd, Old Town Gelato is tucked into a tiny space next to the restaurant, which is only about as big as the gelato freezer itself. When the door is closed, you wouldn’t even know it was there; but when they’re open (11am-8 pm Mon-Thurs, 11am-11pm Fri & Sat) you’ll know where to look.

You’ll be drawn to their welcoming bistro tables lining the sidewalk. In addition to the yummy gelato and sorbet (we gobbled up the fresh, tart, green apple sorbet, while our girlfriend indulged in creamy hazelnut gelato), you can also enjoy take-out sandwiches, Italian sodas and coffee – no password required.

Old Town Pizza
NW Davis between 2nd & 3rd

In an effort to keep this post from being completely self-promotional, I suggest you check out the rest of today's edition (#80) for more cool ideas and goodies, one of which is those Sigerson Morrison rubber flats I wrote about awhile back (I just can't help writing about myself in some way, I guess!).

Now I know what's wrong with me...

2005-07-28T22:07:00.000-04:00

thank you Gawker!

When I'm moaning and writhing on the floor, despondent that I've abandoned you readers for too long, therefore further paralyzed from posting and falling further into my blogging block, now at least I can take comfort in knowing there's a name for my condition. Someone should start a support group...

Along these same lines, I'm also a sufferer of Restless Leg Symdrome (or RLS). I know, everyone always thinks I'm just nervous or neurotic, and even though I am, that's not why I bounce my legs incessently (even in bed when I'm going to sleep!). Although the "severity" of my RLS is pretty minor - frankly, I like to think of the leg bouncing as my cardio - apparently this condition can be pretty debilitating. Seriously! Check out the RLS Foundation's website! Now will you stop telling me to sit still?! :-)

LATE-breaking news

2005-07-27T15:55:00.000-04:00

Remember my little love affair earlier this month with the pop culture-obsessed beauty editor-written blog Jolie in NYC? Well, lots o' crazy stuff has happened for her in the past week, and I have been remiss in not sharing the news with all you, my lovely readers. (I'm not sure if any of you actually find my media-world news interesting, but it's kind of my obsession, and I'm gonna blog about it if I want to! And I really do hope you find it at least a little bit captivating, even if it's in a don't-want-to-admit-I'm-that-shallow kind of way.)

So Jolie...well, the mask has come off and thanks to a silly beauty publicist (gotta love them!), this anonymous beauty editor was outed last week as Nadine Haobsh, an asociate beauty editor at Ladies' Home Journal:

Small world - my ASME friend, Meredith, is an editorial assistant at LHJ.

Anyway, the blog was quickly taken down, and Nadine's fresh-on-the-table job offer from Seventeen to be their new beauty editor (she had already given notice at LHJ) was rescinded. Ouch!

But, come on, this is the media bubble of New York - no publicity is bad publicity! Nadine had the blog back up by the end of the week (with a new "direct all press inquiries ot my publicist" note, of course) and has now signed with the William Morris Agency to write a book about the beauty industry, complete with TV and movie tie-ins. She was also on MSNBC and is booked on Tyra's Banks's new TV show and Anderson Cooper's CNN show. Hmmm, I have a feeling that all this new excitement is a lot more lucrative (albeit, without all the swag perhaps) than that editor gig anyway.

See? Anonymity gets you nowhere! To keep up with all this craziness, feel free to go directly to the source: Jolie in NYC, now providing the behind-the-scenes stories of what it's like to be newly infamous in the media world (a girl can dream, right?)

Now, if only someone would take notice of our little blog here and hmmm, maybe offer me a book deal? A magazine deal? Maybe just a deal on my car insurance?

need i say more?

2005-07-26T20:59:00.000-04:00

even though the job market sucks.

i apologize for again slacking on the blogging, but i am pimping myself out nonstop hoping someone wants to pay me for what i'm good at - yeah, what i'm good at with my clothes on, too. speaking of which, i'll link to it on friday, but make sure to check out Portland Picks at the end of this week when three little feature-ettes i wrote on local businesses will be featured. if only i was doing it for the money and not just the glory.

anyway, i can pretty much assure you that i will be blogging a whole lot more starting next week because that's when my current hours get cut to half. i'm looking forward to the free time, but certainly not the empty checking account! i'm still waiting for my salary to catch up with my spending habits....one day.

as always when i am being a lazy blogger, i'm going to refer you to yet another cool new blog i discovered. ultra is a local Portland blog focusing on the up-and-coming fashion scene here (yes, we have one!). if you want proof of how cool this city really is (in addition to the evidence i share with you here at PONYtales, of course!), then check it out.

No wonder I'm broke!

2005-07-17T20:40:00.000-04:00

So Forbes just released their list of the top ten Most Overpriced Places in the U.S. They determined these by studying the median home price and other costs of living in relation to the job growth and unemployment or something like that.

Big duh: New York is #2 (though I guess you could say it's a surprise that it's not #1).

The big surprise? Portland is #3!! Wha??????

Now, I know for a fact that Portland is way cheaper to live in than New York or even Sacramento, my home town. In fact, it's probably the most inexpensive cool city to live in! But apparently, our unemployment rate is high and homes are actually fairly expensive, so it's overpriced:

Forbes says: "Portland comes in on the northern end of the list once again. Like Seattle, it took some hard knocks during the dot-com bust. "Oregon's economy has not yet recovered from the recession of 2001," according to the state's official fact book, the Oregon Blue Book. At the end of 2004, the state's unemployment rate was lingering around 7% (it was 5% nationally in June). The quality of life is good, but real estate comes at a price. From the end of 2003 to the end of 2004, the median home-cost price increased by nearly $20,000 to $201,500, according to the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development."

Well, crap, I'm screwed. Just when I find out that my boss won't be able to keep me on full-time at PR-at-Large after the end of this month, thereby cutting my guaranteed income in half (don't worry, I'm job searching!), this fancy-pants money magazine tells me that I'm living in a way too expensive city. Ack! Okay, I'm just going to deal with it through denial: the magazine's statistics don't apply to me and that's the end of it. My Portland is cheap cheap cheap!

I'm a celeb whore - my [now ex-]boyfriend is famous!

2005-07-17T02:13:00.000-04:00

Just when I thought I didn't belong, the Imaginary Socialite posted my email to her:

Marty McFly Is So My Guy

Ya see, I noticed during my obsessive reading of her archives that IS seems to have a thing for the Back to the Future movies. Well, for those of you I haven't told yet (which is, what, like one of you because I tell this bit of trivia to everyone I can), my boyfriend, John, was in Back to the Future II as one of the boys playing the Wild Gunmen video game in the 80's Cafe. His famous line: "That's like a baby's toy!" (said in response to realizing that you had to use your hands to play the game). Yeah! I'm dating a movie star! IS thought that was pretty cool, too.

And as she suggested, I went to imbd.com (Internet Movie Database - go there to look up all the info on any movie or TV show ever made) and looked at John's page (can't believe I never did that before). I coudn't have been prouder! And what is this - John guest starred on Highway to Heaven? I loved that show when I was a kid and I'm sure I saw him on TV and that's when I first fell in love. Ha!

**Additional trivia: For those of you really into this, check out John's sister Noley's page. She was the really successful one, playing Heidi in the Disney remake and Dylan's little sister, Erica McKay on 90210. Lucky!

Some late night ramblings from last night...

2005-07-15T19:58:00.000-04:00

Sometimes I can't tell if I feel that I'm missing out on some things by not living in New York right now, or if I really am happy living a slower pace in Portland. I honestly feel both at the same time - which is the one I should listen to?

Anyway, this quandry comes up most often after I've watched or read something that depicts the single-girl-in-the-city lifestyle I thought I would lead after college, though was never sure I really wanted. A couple media that have been catalysts for this tonight:

Hooking Up
Summer reality shows - I have come to rely on them. According to the show promos, this one has been called "the real life Sex and the City" by some notable newspaper out there, so you know I'm already hooked. Basically, the hour show followed five or six women as they emailed a bit, called, set up dates and met with various guys in New York City. Some bad dates (a self-proclaimed "thin Fabio" with a hot model photo showed up 15-years older than he said he was with stringy red hair and craggy face - ewww!), some okay dates (guy buys dinner, gets a few laughs, but the girl doesn't want to jump his bones at all) and some great dates (ending with late night drinks, passionate kisses, all that warm and fuzzy stuff). At first, I enjoyed the vicarious rush of watching them meet new guys, get butterflies and hear the flirty and flattering things the guys said to them. Do I miss dating?, I wondered. But the more I watched, the more stressed out I became and the more disillusioned I got about the guys that are out there (not to say, single ladies, that there aren't some great catches - I'm just happy I caught one). The show was damn fine entertainment and I will surely be watching again, if only to remind myself that I am so much happier chillin' on the couch in my lovely apartment with my wacky boyfriend.

Score: Portland 1 / New York 0

Imaginary Socialite
A blog by a mysterious magazine editor who is very much plugged into the "hipster scene," as well the media and young celebrity world. I spent a good chunk of time after watching the show catching up on her archived posts. I wanted to think that I was hip and in-the-know enough to guess her veiled references (just the fact that I used "hip" and "in-the-know" proves that I'm not), but reading most of the posts just left me feeling even more left out. Is this the life I should be leading?, I thought to myself (okay, I said it out loud - I was alone at home!). It's not like I hit the town and go to the hottest spots even in Portland, so would I really be doing that in new York? What about the magazine world that I thought I so loved? Am I selling myself short not going after that? The questions swirled in my head as I clicked through post after post, and I wanted to stop but I couldn't. I read them all, torturing myself with self-doubt.

Score: Portland 1 / New York 1

So I'm back where I started, wanting both.

I have this weird complusive nature that makes me never want to miss out on anything, never be out of the loop, never fall behind the trends. That must be why I'm such a voracious consumer of media. And I think that's why I have this desire to live in new York - where it all starts, where it all happens - so I can be in the thick of it and never miss out.

Sometimes I think if I didn't know about that New York life, I wouldn't care. So why do I torture myself with these tastes of New York, even when I know the romanticization (word?) of the city and the lifestyle really is bullshit? It's like an addiction...I had a taste and now I can't stop, and yet I am unable to take the big plunge, instead just sitting on the sidelines, hanging on the fringes and flirting with that life....then going back to the safety of my bed and sleep and my yummy cute boyfriend.

I called John before I went to bed (he's out of town) and listened to him talk and felt at home, finally.

It's gettin' hot in here!

2005-07-15T19:21:00.000-04:00

Okay, so that headline was too easy...sorry. Anyway, wanted to share with y'all Daily Candy's latest Lexicon XV (like the bar in Portland that everyone calls "15" but Selena and I call "X-V"!). It's about the summer heat, and since they put it in their "Everywhere" edition, I guess it's about heat all over the country, but trust me, these funny-ass made-up words are really truly applicable to the the nasty, muggy, dirty, did I say nasty yet? HEAT in New York City. It's hot in Portland right now, which means the sun is shining and that makes me happy, but when it's hot in New York, it is miserable - especially on the subway platforms. I'm feeling faint just thinking about it. Enough of my complaints - Daily Candy is much funnier at portraying the misery:

Lexicon XV
summertime! Summertime, and the lingo is easy.

a.c. pee
n. The nasty drip from an air conditioning unit. Also known as "liquid garbage."

condenversation
n. The exchange of sweat by people in close quarters (i.e., dance floors, cramped elevators). See also: filmic moment.

despair conditioning
n. An unexpected waft of cool air (e.g., from a passing bus) that is at once disgusting and welcome in 90-degree heat.

filmic moment
n. A glistening sheen of sweat on your body or your belongings, and the realization that the sweat may not be your own. (That messenger and I shared a nasty but hot filmic moment in the lobby.)

glute glue
n. The cohesive agent that develops on the backs of thighs in July, forcing one to peel them off park benches, car seats, or bar stools.

little white line
n. The thong outline seen on girls wearing the wrong white pants. (Does that skank with the little white line not check her reflection before going out?)

pit-fall
n. 1. The unavoidable underarm stains one gets from wearing tight, nonbreathable tees. 2. One's inability to avoid wearing tight, nonbreathable tees.

shamtonite
n. Summer house freeloader. (Chad is such a shamtonite. He's been hanging out in Bridgehampton for the past three weekends and he doesn't even rent.)

skimplify
v. To reduce the amount of cloth used to cover the body. (Summer's here. Time to skimplify the wardrobe.)

Our laugh for the day

2005-07-13T15:15:00.000-04:00

This doesn't really have anything to do with Portland or New York, but being that I am celebrity-obsessed, it made me laugh and I hope it will make you laugh, too. If you know even just the tiniest bit about the Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes relationship (like, um, that they're together and they're crazy Scientologists), then you must visit The Tom Cruise Scientology Centre. And make sure you click on everything, like even the "No" button under "Donate." Funny shit!

So this is what Media Studies is all about!

2005-07-13T02:54:00.000-04:00

Well, shiznit, I'm already doin' it! Are you? Take Simon Dumenco's hil-air-ious pop quiz from today's AdAge and find out:

A MEDIA-STUDIES POP QUIZ
What Was Martha Stewart's Prison Nickname?
July 11, 2005
QwikFIND ID: AAQ73K
By Simon Dumenco

I know all you want to do is go to the beach and read Ed Klein’s The Truth About Hillary, but the real truth is that we’ve got some serious work to do here, people, and I’m concerned that some of you are just not keeping up. So I’ve decided we’re having a media-studies pop quiz. Right now. What’s that? Yes, I’m serious. Clear your desks and take out your No. 2 pencils. And stop your groaning!

The best catchphrase of the year so far is:
A. “I can’t be cool. I can’t be laid-back. Something happened and I want to celebrate it.”
B. “If you start talking about chemical imbalance, you have to evaluate and read the research papers on how they came up with these theories, Matt, OK? That’s what I’ve done.”
C. “They smell good. They look pretty. I love women. I do.”
D. “You don’t know the history of psychiatry. I do.”

Fill in the blank for P. Diddy’s pitch in an ad currently airing on MTV: “One of the things about _____ is it moisturizes my situation, it preserves my sexy, and then I’m off to doing what I need to do.”
A. Pennzoil (Long-Life Heavy Duty Engine Oil)
B. Replens (Long-Lasting Vaginal Moisturizer)
C. Cheetos (Dangerously Cheesy Cheese Flavored Snacks)
D. Proactiv (The Answer for Acne)

Martha Stewart revealed in Vanity Fair that her prison nickname was:
A. Martha Stewart Omnibitchy
B. Martha Stewart Omniguilty
C. Martha StewartOmnipretty
D. M. Diddy

Which of the following did a Dublin court not rule must be returned to Bono by a former stylist who worked for U2 18 years ago?
A. Bono’s pants
B. Bono’s hoop earrings
C. Bono’s Stetson hat
D. Bono’s last name

New York Times reporter Judith Miller got sent to jail for:
A. Buying all that crap about WMDs, and thereby aiding and abetting the headlong rush into war with Iraq.
B. Selling her ImClone stock based on an insider tip.
C. Stealing Bono’s pants.
D. Robert Novak.

A spokesperson for the Christian organization The Resistance has blasted Jessica Simpson for her “These Boots are Made for Walking” video, demanding that she shoot a family-friendly version. They’re also demanding that:
A. The guy whose butt was shown in a photograph posted to the Los Angeles Times Web site’s “wikitorial” put on a pair of pants, for Chrissakes.
B. Nick Lachey stop doing bench presses because, Lordy, that hot bod of his is gonna turn all the men in this parish into queers!
C. ABC add “Praying With the Stars” to its fall lineup.
D. I rewrite this quiz to exclude mentions of Nick Lachey’s sexy body and that dude’s butt.

In response to the news that Angelina Jolie and (supposedly) Brad Pitt are adopting an Ethopian AIDS orphan:
A. Jennifer Aniston and Vince Vaughn are going to try to adopt a Lebanese crack baby.
B. Gwyneth Paltrow and Chris Martin are thinking about adopting a lesbian baby with diaper rash.
C. Juliette Lewis and Woody Harrelson may adopt kosher cooking practices.
D. I’m adopting Norm Pearlstine.

The only people expected to apply for jobs at the Al-Jazeera network as it enters the English-language market next year include:
A. Al-Roker
B. Tony Danza
C. Bloggers who got turned down by The Huffington Post
D. American Media employees inured to terror after years of working for Bonnie Fuller and David Pecker

Which of the following is not a lyric from Destiny’s Child’s stomach-turning new hit “Cater 2 U”?
A. Let me help you/take off your shoes/untie your shoestrings/take off your cuff links
B. When you come home late/tap me on my shoulder/I’ll roll over
C. I got your slippers/your dinner/your dessert/and so much more
D. Boo, I have no shred of self-esteem/do you take your coffee with cream?

If Karl Rove didn’t leak the identity of CIA agent Valerie Plame to Matt Cooper, what did he tell the Time reporter?
A. “I can’t be cool. I can’t be laid-back. Something happened and I want to celebrate it.”
B. “If you start talking about chemical imbalance, you have to evaluate and read the research papers on how they came up with these theories, Matt, OK? That’s what I’ve done.”
C. “They smell good. They look pretty. I love women. I do.”
D. “You don’t know the history of psychiatry. I do.”

The only person buying the Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes romance is:
A. Liz Smith, on alternate Tuesdays, after a few cocktails.
B. 9-year-old Becky Kerwin of Sheboygan, Wisconsin.
C. Tom Cruise’s publicist-sister Lee Anne DeVette.
D. Xenu of Scientology fame, who, according to Wikipedia, “is the galactic tyrant who stacked hundreds of billions of his frozen victims around Earth’s volcanoes 75 million years ago before blowing them up with hydrogen bombs and brainwashing them with a ‘3-D, super colossal motion picture’ for 36 days.”

Which of the following is not an upcoming reality TV show?
A. NBC’s Tommy Lee Goes to College
B. Bravo’s Being Bobby Brown
C. NBC’s I’m a Celebrity, but I Want to be a Pop Star
D. HBO’s I’m James Gandolfini, Are You Going to Finish Those Fries?

I’m writing Media Guy:
A. To serve as a launching pad for my podcast.
B. To serve as a platform for my blog.
C. Until Mel Karmazin offers me my own satellite radio show on Sirius.
D. With the hopes that an editor at Highlights for Children notices my work.

You're dying for the answers now, right? Are you cool enough? Smart enough? Or maybe dumb enough? Okay, Frisky, check it out here.

If this is what Mari's grad school program entails, then I gotta get my ass back to school!

A warning to all PoweR Girls...

2005-07-06T23:39:00.000-04:00

Jolie, are we operating on the same media world (not to mention pop culture-obsessed) wavelength?

I think this beauty editor must have been attacked by PR people yesterday, because after she waxed eloquently about the typical editor-flack relationships, she also posted a helpful list of rules all PoweR Girls should (try their best to) memorize, or at the very least post in their magazine-clip covered cubicle.

Jolie in NYC: Rules for PR people to live by

I couldn't agree more, but may I also add a few of my own...

6) Target your pitches to the appropriate magazine, then the appropriate editor and section. Read the publication and, as Jolie mentioned, make a point to check out the masthead every month to become familiar with the names and keep an eye out for any editor changes (they happen endlessly, it seems!). Even better, pay attention to industry updates like mediabistro's Revolving Door and Fashion Week Daily. If you don't want to be treated like an outsider, don't stay on the outside.

7) Don't ever feel (and certainly never act) entitled to a response from every editor you call or email. They are already handling more than what's outlined in their job description, and you, the 564th PR person to call or email that week, are not that special. Don't ever take it personally.

8) Rule #7 does not mean that you should treat editors the same way. I always remember editors who contact me and drop everything (or at least act like I am) to facilitate their request or answer their questions. I treat them like friends, which isn't so hard considering we're all pretty much women in our 20s & 30s. If editors feel good when they deal with you, whether or not the interaction results in a placement, they'll be more apt to contact you again. Relationships are the basis of PR (duh).

9) Believe in your client's service/product/whatever your pushing. Not every PoweR Girl is so lucky, but if you can at least fake some enthusiasm it may become contagious. If you actually like what you're pitching, you'll feel less smarmy making those dreaded follow-up calls.

Ugh, that's more than enough work-related blogging for my own good. I promise no more PR posts....for at least a week!

PoweR Girl!

2005-07-05T14:57:00.000-04:00

Public Relations. The "dark side" as we called it during my summer ASME internship.

Don't get me wrong, I am loving my PR job right now - mostly because I have an awesome boss and genuinely like our clients (and who are they you ask? Twist, b-glowing, Flowerbud and Schoolhouse Electric Co., of course!) - but I still have trouble identifying myself as a PR person, mostly because of the bad rap PR flacks (often deservedly, sometimes unfairly) get from editors. The thing is, because I was on the magazine side for a bit, I completely agree with the usual complaints - pitching items that are completely irrelevant to the editor and anything he/she is working on, annoyingly persistent follow up verging on stalking - and I try to avoid those pitfalls in my own work.

Maybe that's why I still think I would get along with beauty editor Jolie (my new favorite blogger mentioned in my previous post), despite (or maybe because of) her recent missive on PR events and PR girls (a little negative, but also celebrating all the freebies and fun events she gets to go to thanks to the beauty PR peeps). If you're at all curious about the world I navigate and the relationship between magazines and PR (specifically in beauty departments), check it out: A Day in the Life, or Jolie Gets Wordy and Earnest.

In my absence, read these....

2005-06-30T17:55:00.000-04:00

Yes, I am alive, have no fear (now that Mari has a job, maybe she'll stop posting so much and making me look like a lazy-ass). We just finished the move last night (next task: unpacking!) and I will soon finish posting about my New York trip (3 weeks later!) - Sunday, Monday and Tuesday left to write about - and also post camera phone pics of our new apartment. It is ADORABLE if I do say so myself. Very happy, I am.

Anyway, in the meantime, I thought I'd share with all of you some new blogs that I came across today. Not that Mari isn't keeping all of you fully entertained (I know, because I'm so engrossed with reading about her life I'm starting to think I'll just let her take over - nah, I could never leave y'all like that!), but until I'm also back providing my ridiculous insights, check out what these bloggers have to say:

Jolie in NYC
Random musings (and gossip updates) from a "pop culture-obsessed" beauty editor in NYC. Being pop culture-obsessed myself, the gossip alerts are no news to me, but I have been enjoying her snarky comments about them and also her inside revelations of the beauty editor world (hint: lots of extravagent freebies from PR people like me). Everyone is wondering who she is (mediabistro, Fashion Week Daily), and I just asked my boss, Nikki, who did PR for Estee Lauder brands for over 10 years in NYC, for any insights she might have. Whoever it is, I would like to meet her - I think we would get along famously.

Overheard in NYC
Hilariously idiotic conversations people have >duh< overheard in NYC. I've only looked at the first few so far, but I can already tell this is going to be regular stop on my daily blog tour.

I'll be adding these blogs to the links at right for future reference, but get on them now!

New York City - Tuesday, 6.14.05

2005-06-20T16:33:00.000-04:00

I had all these ambitious plans that Mari and I would get up early (ha!), go get some breakfast, and maybe wander through Central Park a bit as I had yet to get there, before I had to hop on my 12:45 shuttle to good ole Newark International Airport. Silly me! Instead, we woke up late around 11am (but still so early for us!) and went to Bag o' Bagels so I could get....well, a bag of bagels as a little present for my New-York-native boss who hasn't found a sufficiently delicious bagel in Portland. Yeah, kissin' some ass! We had some bagels for ourselves, too, of course.

Anyway, after stuffing our faces with way too much cream cheese, we headed back to Mari's, grabbed my stuff and began the arduous journey dragging my bags up and down subway stairs to get to Grand Central and then to my fancy coach (i.e. bus) that would take me away from my beloved New York (damnit!).

New York City - Monday, 6.13.05

2005-06-20T15:58:00.000-04:00

Back to the grind on Monday morning. No, not at all, thank goodness, but I did have to get up around 9 to meet Peter Shankman for breakfast. Remember Peter, the PR guy (president of The Geek Factory, actually) that I met in Portland when he came out to pitch the city as a potential client? Anyway, as I mentioned in my on-the-plane post, he lives in New York, so less than a week after we met up in my neck of the woods, I headed over for a tour of his bachelor pad at The Helena, on the up-and-coming west side of the city, and some yummy greasy diner breakfast. Good times!

After getting refreshed from the (sweaty) walk back to Mari's, I walked down to the infamous Conde Nast building at 4 Times Square to have lunch with my friend Eric (he was the ASME intern at Parents the year before me), who now works at Gourmet (yeah, Monday was all about eating, meal after meal!). Now, for all of you who have a life and aren't obsessed with the magazine world like me, I should tell you that Conde Nast is the ultimate mag publisher, home of Vogue, The New Yorker, Vanity Fair, Glamour, Lucky, Domino, etc, and their cafeteria is infamous for a couple reasons:

1) It was designed by Frank Gehry, notable architect of the Guggenheim Museum in Bilbao, Spain and the Experience Music Project in Seattle, among many other disinctive buildings. His "sculptural approach to architecture" is obvious in the undulating glass and stainless steel of the Conde Nast cafeteria:

Official photo of the seating area.

The crazy free-for-all serving area (just imagine a mass of skinny, long-haired, trendy girls fighting for that last leaf of lettuce).

My two attmepts (thanks camera phone!) at capturing the magic moment.

2) The Conde Nast cafeteria is often thought to be an oxymoron itself because all the women who helm the mastheads at Vogue, Lucky, Glamour, Self and the like are always under pressure to look good at their image-conscious jobs, therefore the generalization is that they don't eat. I stormed into that cafeteria ready to prove that all wrong and show up the wannabe Mary-Kate Olson's that skinny girls can eat too, damnit! I did my best - ordered a turkey sandwich with all the fixings, picked up two cookies and loaded the largest cup with regular, calorie-laden Pepsi. I thought I had bucked the system for sure, but as soon as I sat down and took a sip of my sugary beverage, I realized that the Conde Nast gods had gotten the last laugh - my cup was full of diet soda! That's right, diet soda comes out of the regular fountain at the Conde Nast cafeteria because, obviously, they know what's best to keep all their employees skinny as a rail. It's an anorexic fascist regime, I tell you! And I'm not the only one who thinks so - read Gawker's undercover investigation of Conde Nast cafeteria etiquette to see that my experience was not an anomaly.

Phew....having recovered from this disturbing event, I headed back to Mari's (light-headed because the cafeteria had deprived me of a crucial couple hundred calories), changed into something more comfortable and two two of us headed to the Museum of Modern Art. It was a stunning space - I think was more captivated by the architecture for at least the first half hour - but the art and design on display was equally impressive. I especially enjoyed the design section of the museum, full of everything from innovative car pistons to the Apple iPod to Tupperware to the Smart Car to midcentury modern furntiure (yummy Eames chairs and Saarinen pieces!) and so much more. Another high point was seeing Andy Warhol's famous Campbell's soup series:

Did you know that each can was a different soup, representing all the varieties available at the time? Well, I didn't....I guess I had only seen Tomato on its own or something. Anyway, MOMA arranged the canvases in the order of the soups' introductions into the market. Very cool....I love consumerism and pop culture!

The rest of the visit was filled with lots of contemporary art by artists I'd never heard of but enjoyed, Picasso, Cezanne, Miro, Rothko, Monet, Matisse, Lichtenstein, Van Gogh....I could go on and on. I hate to sound like jaded and unappreciative, but frankly, by the time Mari and I got to the top floors, our eyes were glazed over and we barely paid attention to all the famous pieces. I definitely suggest enjoying museums in multiple, smaller doses if possible. It was exhausting!

Never in a lull for long, though, on the walk home, Mari and I walked right past the Bewitched premiere at the Ziegfeld Theatre right behind Mari's apartment building, which is apparently where most of the New York premieres of movies are held. Oooh, celebrities in my vicinity got me all hot and bothered. Unfortunately, I didn't get to actually see Nicole or Will or any of the other stars in person, but just knowing that I got close made me happy. Here's what I could have seen with my own eyes:

I have to say that seeing Will Ferrel or Amy Sedaris (above) would have been way more thrilling than the ghost of Nicole Kidman.

The gods (the celeb ones this time, not Conde Nast deities) must have been shining on me, because as Mari and I waited to meet Emily and Meredith at the Astor Place Starbucks to go to yummy, cheap Indian food on 6th Avenue, we noticed a crowd around the door. Ooooh, could it be another celeb sighting? Could I be that lucky? Hell yes I could! A very conspicuous peek in the window informed me that none other than Alanis Morisette was playing an acoustic set at Starbucks (I later learned that she's launching her new acoustic album only at Starbucks for the first six weeks - ahhh, marketing!). I think I must have conjured her, blond streak and all (see below), by listening to Jagged Little Pill on the subway the day before.

Perfect.

Our Indian meal was fabulous and insanely cheap as only can be found on 6th Avenue in NYC - live sitar music, soup, samosa, chicken tikka masala, rice and unlimited naan for $7.95. We need some of that in Portland!

We stuffed ourselves silly and had to walk it off around the East Village for a bit before heading into Barnes & Noble (needed to pick up some mags, of course). We browsed for a bit and then headed home. Long day! I spent the evening packing and resting and being silly....and slept like a baby.

New York City - Sunday, 6.12.05

2005-06-20T15:30:00.000-04:00

"I wish it was Sunday - ooooh-woah - 'Cause that's my fun day - ooooh-woah"

Yeah....I pretty much disagree with that Bangles song because no matter what - like even when you're on vacation and don't have to go back to work or anything on Monday - Sunday is pretty much a lazy and worthless day. It was no different in New York, and I finally caught up on sleep by dozing until close to 3pm. Classic Liz, right?

In any case, once I woke up all refreshed, I got dolled up to hit the town (in my new H&M top) and head out to Brooklyn to see Emily, Kim and Kerry and the 'hood (Park Slope) that they call home.

On the way there I came across yet another example of PONY synergy: New York's well-known Roseland, just like our own Roseland venue here in Portland!

What you can't see is the poster for the upcoming Sleater-Kinney show (the indie chick band who calls Portland home). Talk about a meta-PONY moment!

After this thrilling encounter, I hopped on the subway and rocked out to Alanis Morisette on Mari's iPod all the way out to Park Slope. Once there, Emily, Kim and I got some grub at Lobo (I don't think this CitySearch profile I linked to is the right location, but it sounds like the place - weird). The Tex Mex wasn't that good compared to what I'm used to from California, or even here in Portland, but I was hungry and the chicken fajitas filled me right up.

Now satiated, I went back to Emily and Kim's pad for a little home tour and to meet their adorable kitties, and then Emily headed back out for a nice stroll on the tree-lined and brownstone-lined streets of Park Slope and indulged in some ice cream at Haagen-Dazs (That's right, no Tasti-D-Lite for me! I want the real shit!).

I headed back soon after that (didn't want to be chillin' on the subway alone too late at night), again with Alanis as my soundtrack (this will be an important detail for the next post), and then just hung out at Mari's apartment for the rest of the evening. Lame, I know, but I was happy with the day. :-)

New York City - Saturday, 6.11.05

2005-06-20T00:54:00.000-04:00

Bright eyed and bushy tailed (ha!), I woke up around 9am Saturday morning and got all pretty for the "So You Want to Be a Publicist? Part 2" conference (in case you're wondering, I wore my white suit pants and my sheer aqua polka dot blouse with silver strappy heels). Mari, bless her soul, woke up along with me and accompanied me for my "15 minutes" of semi-fame.

After a quick cab ride, Mari and I walked into some random office building and jetted up to the 16th floor to Ripley Grier Studios. This is what greeted us at we stepped off the elevator:

No, we didn't mistakenly wind up at some cheesy tanning salon; this was the correct location for the conference, which turned out to be some sort of casting agency, so we were surrounded by lots of would-be actors, actresses, dancers and singers. Oh boy!

Luckily, the conference was tucked away upstairs, and we didn't have to worry about all the other craziness going on around us. After a couple donuts and cups of apple juice, the conference got under way with a little "ice breaker" game in the form of the "Name Game" - you know, the first person says her name, the second person says the first person's name and then her own name, and so on. Silly, but not to tough - usually. This time, however, these were the names I had to remember before my turn came around (yes, I cheated and wrote them down, but didn't use the list when I had the floor): LaTonya, Erica, Nile, Shelda, Keita, Lyn, Erica, Ramlah, Priscilla, Bettina, Chantel, Heather, Yunis, Monica, Wanda, Taneisha, Ayana, Audia, Stacy, Mari, then me. And just for giggles, here's the rest of the names after my turn: Jenai, LaShonda, Malissa, Kateisha, Crystal, Tasha, Taneisha, Sharonda, Rachel, Ohameika, Tiffany and Melissa. Mercifully, they stopped the game only about halfway through the room. Phew, that was a doozy!

Next up, the keynote speaker, Ms. Millie Monyo [see below], one of the girls from the MTV reality show "PoweR Girls," which focused on Lizzie Grubman, her agency Grubman PR, and four girls working under her. It was a ridiculous show, which made the girls out to be celebrity-obsessed airheads, so I was curious if that impression was created by the editors or if was truly the "reality" of these girls.

Well, I am sorry (or happy?) to report that the show seems to have been right on target. I don't want to do a whole lot of shit-talking on here (email me in private for all the real scoop if you want), but without a doubt, I didn't learn anything new from Millie. First of all, she didn't even have a talk prepared, she rushed in late and simply said something like, "I'm not really very good at just talking, so do you have questions for me?" Huh? You're the keynote speaker! You're supposed to speak and we're supposed to listen, maybe ask some questions after all that jazz! But, of course, everyone had plenty of questions for her because she works with celebs and was on TV, so I thought I'd give her a chance. Hmmm, yeah, I should have known better. My favorite part: in response to someone asking how to gather media contacts, Millie began with, "Well, there's this thing in a magazine called a masthead..." Now I know that the average Jane doesn't necessarily know this (but I still think a lot do), but if you're at all interested in magazines or PR you absolutely do know about the masthead that lists all the editors. I'm trying to think about how I would have started my response, and yes, I probably would have mentioned the masthead, but the thing that gets me is her patronizing assumption that no one else knows what exactly a masthead is. Okay, that's enough about mastheads.

A few more winners from the darling PoweR Girl that sprang forth during her participation in the subsequent panel discussion "Publicity to the Stars":

"It's really good to be a people person." Duh, especially in public relations when the whole point of the job is to relate to the public.

Addressing the fact that you have to already be in the industry to get invited to press events and networking opportunities, which exactly where people want to go to get into the industry - "It's a double-edged sword." Hmmmm....yeah, maybe, but I think it's more like a catch-22.

And one more actually useful lesson I learned during the conference: Even though you (like me) may be excited to have your very own business cards, don't just hand out them to anyone and everyone (even those who aren't interested), especially without talking to them first. A particular woman was doing this, and it was just plain tacky. Mari was waiting for me to finish with some picture-taking and was merely standing within a ten-foot radius of this woman, who, assuming that Mari must want to speak to her very knowledgeable and important self, gave her the I'll-be-with-you-in-just-a-minute gesture and then handed Mari a business card because of course she must be dying to get one just like everyone else! I think I ended with 5 of those cards or something. Ick. Just don't do it.

So yeah, we left the conference soon after that because we were sleepy (yeah, neither Mari nor I are really morning people, and remember, I was still going on only 8 hours sleep in the past two days - I'm full of excuses) and I don't think I could have handled getting anymore business cards. We headed home only briefly before heading back out and downtown to do a little wandering and shopping in Soho.

That's right, kiddies, I was finally making the pilgrimage to my mecca - H&M. We got off the subway, sent Michael on his way and made a beeline for the store. In less than two minutes, I had at least 8 garments over my arm and had barely made it past the entrance. In the end, I could only afford a few tops, but they're damn cute if I do say so myself (black cargigan with a slim silouhette - great basic - and vintage-looking turquoise knit shell - it'll make a great layering sweater vest in the winter, too - with chartreuse and white scallops and accents). Love it!

By the time Mari and I emerged from H&M, it was pissing rain outside and we were starving, so we met up with Mike at Broome Street Bar for some yummies. He quickly deemed the place is his favorite bar in NYC and convinced us to eat there even though Mari wasn't too keen on the idea. And thank God we did, because Mike ordered the most hilarious burger we'd ever seen - it was served in a pita pocket! Witness below:

I couldn't tell if he was enjoying it so much because it actually tasted good or just for the novelty of the whole thing. If you care enough to divulge your email address and register with Shecky's (it's really easy and quick), check out their review of the place, which actually mentions the "unfortunate" pita burger.

Oh, and I forgot to mention that while Mari and I were doing our own shopping, Mike stumbled upon a "huge" sale at Broadway Panhandler, a kitchen store, and showed off all his goodies while we ate dinner - new knives, a chopping board and the BIGGEST saute pan ever! Check it out in all its glory:

All that junk was so bulky and heavy that we had to take it back to the apartment before we headed out for the night instead of wandering around the neighborhood during the evening. Silly Michael. No matter, we had a lot of fun with each other just chilling at the apartment - I surfed the web while Mari and Michael had a tickle fight, then Michael decided to invade my privacy and take a picture of me in the loo. Again, I have no shame, because I'm sharing it with you:

Classy, yes? I swear, Mike is like the annoying (yet lovable) brother I never had growing up.

All that craziness could only keep up entertained for long - we really had to get to some drinking! We headed back downtown and met up with Emily, Kim and Meredith at some random bar in Gramery Park (Mike desperately wants to live there) called Still. At the risk of sounding like a crotchety old lady, the music was crazy loud and all I could keep yelling was "This music is too loud!"

Needless to say, we only stayed for one drink, and then Mari, Mike, Emily, Meredith and I headed to my old stomping ground around Union Square to Nevada Smith's, a "pub" we hit up several times during my summer in NYC. During the week it's a pretty chill English-style pub that caters to fanatical soccer fans, but on the weekends it can get a little "clubby" with a dance floor in the back, more loud music, lots of scoping out the opposite sex, etc. We pretty much hung around with each other, though, and the 2004 ASME interns that Emily knew. Our boy buddy from our summer as interns, Jared, met up with just a bit later and I was so thrilled to see him (it'd been almost two years)!

We all had a great time together, and though I didn't even get a buzz from nursing about 3 beers throughout the night, I was starving by the time 3am rolled around. For more reminscing, Mari, Michael and I headed to Amore's Pizza (I'd link to it but they don't have any web presence!), where the girls and I used to get late-night munchies and greasy hangover cures all the time because it was right next door to our dorm. I got a delicious pepperoni roll (basically a cinammon roll with cheese, pepperoni and canadian bacon instead of all that sweet stuff) and Michael got a heartattack on pizza dough: the Lasagna Pizza. It was so much food that he could only eat half of it:

You really had to see it in person!

And after an uneventful subway ride home, I think we all finally fell asleep around 5am.

Although it was loads of fun to see all the old hangouts and it certainly made me miss those special months I spent in the city, I was also happy that my visit there and, in fact, myself were different than those heady ASME days. I didn't have the energy to stay out way past closing time (4am) like I used to, I didn't have any desire to drink a lot and/or get drunk, and I wasn't interested at all in flirting with and/or meeting any guys. Therefore, I don't have the same sort of wild stories to report as those old days, but at the same time, I feel a lot happier and truer to myself.

Sunday preview: I slept until the early afternoon (I really needed to catch up!) and went to Brooklyn to visit with Emily and see where a lot of the girls (Emily, Kim, Kerry and Kristen) call home. Details to come in the next post...

New York City - Friday, 6.10.05

2005-06-18T23:31:00.000-04:00

First of all, some photos of that sunrise on the plane.....so gorgeous.

Pretty sweet, huh? These may be my favorite pictures of the whole trip.

So after nearly missing my connecting flight in Minneapolis, praying to the luggage gods that my bags made it on the plane with me (they did), and running on only about 2 hours of sleep (not consecutive, mind you), I finally arrived in New York City – well, Newark, NJ, but a helluva lot closer to Manhattan than Portland – around 11am PST. On the bus into the city, I was so thrilled to be there – and deliriously sleep-deprived – that I went camera phone crazy. The edited results below:

Yep, that's me, a little wide-eyed-crazy-happy to be on my way into the city. I must have no shame to post this on the internet, truly.

My first H&M sighting! If I wasn't so tired, I would have jumped off the bus right then and there and done a little shopping. As it was, I kept my lazy wits about me and waited until the next day to get my fix.

Not a second later, we drove by a Forever 21. Not quite as exciting... [see my previous post about H&M vs. Forever 21]

Hot dog stand! I was so excited to see my first one of these - I suppose that my empty stomach may have a little to do with that - but as it turned out, I didn't get a hot dog on the street my whole time there. Maybe that's because I wasn't ever hungover enough!

Mari and Michael met me at the bus stop right by Grand Central, and Mari and I started lugging all the bags back onto the subway to dump them at her place. We walked into Grand Central, where I used to get off the subway everyday for work, and I got very giddy and took this picture:

That is such a stunning building, and this picture really doesn't do it justice. Forgive me.

When Mari and I got off the subway at the 57th street stop right by her apartment, who was on the platform but Kurt "RedBall" Perschke! Small freakin' world - in all of Manhattan (he lives there) and of all the times (I was only there for 5 days, one week after he was in Portland), we ran into each other on one random subway platform. It was one of those moments that can only happen in the most populated city in the country. Fabu!

After all of this excitement, we finally got to Mari's place - very cute, by the way, and her camera phone pics don't do it justice - and I had about 15 minutes (if that!) to rest before I had to head back to Grand Central to meet John's mom for lunch, which was very enjoyable. As tired as I was, I think was running on some sort of lack-of-sleep adrenaline, because I had a ton of energy and talked with John's mom, Elizabeth, all through our 2.5 hour lunch.

The next stop on my whirlwind first day in NYC was dinner with a group of my ASME friends at 'inoteca on the Lower East Side. On the way there, Mari and I walked by Teany, Moby's tea shop where Gwyneth Paltrow celebrated her daughter Apple's first birthday. Of course, I had to take a picture because I'm a whore for anything celebrity-related (more of that to come in subsequent posts, so brace yourself):

Dinner was a blast - and very yummy - just like the old days when all the ASME interns would get together on Friday for a big group dinner. Here's some documentation (thanks Brooke!) of our mini-reunion; the pictures say it all:

Brooke (who works at VITALS) and Kim (who works at Glamour).

A whole series of pictures of Emily (one of my former roommates, who now works at All You) and me...

Kerry (who also works at VITALS) makin' a silly face.

Robin (who works at Twist) looks stunned, but I'm not sure why.

Meredith (who works at Ladies' Home Journal) enjoys her delicious dinner.

Oh, there's a camera in my face - I better smile!

Mari (who doesn't work right now) is so beautiful.

While we finished our wine and waited for the check, Kerry got a little creative...

The avant-garde fruits of her labor. I'm sure the waitstaff loved us!

Stuffed and a little tipsy, Emily, Meredith, Mari and I headed uptown to a bar called Tin Lizzie's (fitting, yes?) where drinks were two for one (sweeeeet!). Unfortunately, I could only handle one beer, so we ended up heading home before the night got to crazy....Lame, I know, but I hadn't slept at all and had to get up at 9am the next morning for the conference, so please give me a break. :-)

Horse(PONY)shoes

2005-06-17T02:05:00.000-04:00

Okay, first of all, I swear on the Portland rain (yes, it's raining here in June!) that I will blog all about my New York trip starting tomorrow. Promise!

In the meantime, speaking of the rain, thought I'd let you know that it seems you and I aren't the only ones with PONY on the mind. Sigerson Morrison has come up with the perfect PONY shoes, combining New York style (pointy-toe flats revealing just a hint of sexy toe cleavage) with Portland utility (they're made of waterproof rubber). How hot is that?! Even DailyCandy has deemed them cool (of course!). Anyone want to donate to the Liz-really-should-own-these-shoes fund?

I'm guilty of neglecting the blog, it's true

2005-06-12T15:42:00.000-04:00

So I've come to the realization (and I really should have known better in the first place) that blogging everyday while I'm in New York for only 5 days is just impossible. I haven't been "home" (i.e. Mari's darling apartment) much and when I am I'm exhausted and don't really want to pull out my computer. So I'm sorry. I hate to disappoint you, my loyal readers. I may very well get to blogging about Friday afternoon, yesterday, posting pictures and all that jazz later tonight, after I get back from dinner in Brooklyn with Emily and Kim, but I've learned my lesson and I'm making no promises yet. I will promise, however, that in the very least, I will blog every last detail, with tons of hilarious (at least to me) pictures as soon as I get back to my regular, homebody life in Portland. So at the very latest, look to Wednesday/Thursday for all the adventures of Liz, Super PONYgirl, in New York City!

PO in the NY

2005-06-11T17:01:00.000-04:00

Sooooo, sorry this is late. My day was a whirlwind once I got here yesterday (details below) and once I got finally back to Mari’s apartment last night, I really had to pass out since I only got two hours of sleep during my redeye and had to wake up at 9am to go to the conference. Anyway, without further adieu, the first post of my New York adventure…..

Yes, I’ve been a lazy blogger lately. Have you missed me? Really, I thought I would give Mari the chance to shine for a week or so since she’s the new New Yorker and I’ve been dominating the blog with random-ass posts. And yes, I’m lazy, too – although in my defense, the week was busy preparing for my new apartment (SOOOO excited – more details to come next week) and this trip to New York (SOOOO exciting also!).

So to get back into the swing of things, I am sitting on the plane blogging away (well, typing away and will post as soon as I come back to earth and find a wifi connection) thanks to the spiffy new battery John bought for my laptop today. But shit, it’s already half gone from watching Six Feet Under episodes!

Anyway, back to the plane….I am on my way back to New York and it’s about damn time. Right now, we’re flying into the sunrise and it’s absolutely beautiful. I have a feeling I won’t be sleeping much on this journey, just to excited to take it all in again. I feel like I’m back on the flight to New York for the first time two years ago (same airline and everything!), only this time I’m watching Six Feet Under instead of Sex and the City, my laptop is two years old, I am leaving behind a boyfriend I’m going to miss terribly for these four days rather than jonesing to experience the single life, and I am, well, more grown up I guess. I have to say, also, that with all the new apartment excitement, I am a little sad to be leaving Portland. I have come to appreciate my city more than ever over the course of the past year and I am proud to call it home (did that sound too cheesy? I think the Xanax is making me all mushy).

I went out to dinner last night with Peter Shankman, a very successful and unconventional PR guy based in NYC. He came to town to pitch the city of Portland, ironically enough, (tourism or something like that) and had never been here before, so I took it upon myself to give him a proper taste of the city (literally because the night centered around drinking and eating!). I find that I really love showing off Portland because I think its charms are so refreshing and unexpected to out-of-towners, especially New Yorkers. We went to Blue Hour for drinks (designed by Portland-based and now the talk of New York City - for his project on the Contemporary Arts Museum at 2 Lincoln Center - architect Brad Cloepfil (he also designed the Weiden + Kennedy building, very eco-friendly, warehouse-converted-into-creative-space Portland design), and then we had dinner at Gotham Building Tavern, the third gem in the crown of this brilliant young Portland couple who started Family Supper (hip dinner-party-esque gathering of strangers in a loft-like kitchen space eating dee-licious organic, seasonal northwest food, all for $25 a piece) and clarklewis (the restaurant version of Family Supper, restaurant of the year last year). Yummy – and it didn’t hurt that Peter picked up the tab (thanks again, Peter!). If you’re curious, I had asparagus ravioli with cream and browned butter and salmon with some fancy sounding sauce and greens; it really doesn’t do the restaurant justice not to know those names! Anyway, Peter had all these fresh ideas about bringing the cosmopolitan, wordly flavor (and attention) of New York to Portland to really put it on the map, maybe creating a “mini-oregon” in Central Park or something like that. I even told Peter about PONY and he absolutely loved the idea, even teased that if he used it in his pitch and he got the account, he would bring me on as a consultant. I hope that wasn’t just talk because that would be awesome!! [hint hint, Peter :-)]

Anyway, maybe it is the Xanax making me really happy and excited, but I’m feeling on top of the world, on the verge of moving into my dream apartment – vintage moldings and alcoves, walk-through closet with storage (a la Carrie Bradshaw’s apartment), burgundy walls in the living room, dark blue in the bedroom, and even a fire escape! – headed for an awesome weekend in New York, made new friends with a colleague in NYC, and well, flying into the gorgeous sunrise so full of possibility. Not too shabby.

I’m hoping this will the first of my daily posts while I’m in New York – complete with camera phone pics! – so check back often. Just as things have changed since my last time there as I mentioned above, I have updated my technogical journaliing of my experiences in the city from the low-tech mass email to the blogosphere. Hope you enjoy!

>>pictures to come later, later tonight, along with the rest of yesterday's and today's events<<

Vocab Lesson

2005-05-31T03:39:00.000-04:00

Unfortunately, I can't take credit for coming up with these clever new NYC slang words, but I can take credit for being cool enough to read about them on DailyCandy and now share them with you. The first of you to actually use one of these words in an everyday conversation wins a prize - my undying respect and admiration. So post a comment when you do.

DailyCandy Lexicon XII

The seductive, steamy, sublime New York night. Words cannot describe. Or can they?

alphabet pity
n. Awarding extra points or praise to venues east of First Avenue solely because of geography — and not actual merit.

barnese
n. 1. An obscure religion based on a devotion to Barneys New York and the belief that spiritual well-being can be found on the store's upper floors. 2. Followers of this religion. (Smart, funny, and so good-looking — if only he were barnese!)

boroughbred
n. The rare New Yorker who was actually born and raised in Manhattan.

bungaho
n. 1. A species of men and women (you know who you are, kiddies) who frequent Bungalow 8 with staggering regularity. 2. Those whose love of Bungalow 8 stems entirely from the fact that they can get in.

gansevoria
n. The haze that comes over one when sitting on the Gansevoort rooftop in the summer, characterized by a willingness to buy $18 cocktails and a lack of care when said drinks take 30 minutes to arrive.

l.i.e.r
n. In casual conversation, one who claims to have grown up in NYC, if by NYC one means Long Island.

marislime
n. The clientele who fill the Maritime Hotel's courtyard and bars at night. 2. Nighttime scenes characterized by thick clouds of smoke and sweaty faux hipsters.

p.u.i.
n. Planning under the influence. Plan-making late in the evening, especially with friends, for next-day activities, such as SoHo shopping and brunch.

Saturday night fever
n. The overwhelming desire to ask a taxi driver to blast his radio, as if the cab could magically transform into a disco.

A few added tidbits of information....Kristen is a nearly certifiable bungaho (and she said I was allowed to post that). And John and I and Hubbel and our friend Dana were most definitely guilty of p.u.i. last night as we finished off our third bottle of wine at 4am and seriously planned on waking up at 9am, going out to breakfast and then going to watch Dana's fiance, Joey's soccer game. And what happened? Ha! We all slept until close to noon and never really left the house all day.

Santiam River, OR

2005-05-29T17:46:00.000-04:00

Got out of town a bit yesterday - not to the beach because, as it turns out, John and I will be going on a beach camping trip next weekend with all his Frisbee peeps - but we did head to the Santiam River, a bit east of Salem. It was BEE-YOO-TEE-FULL! So, without further ado, enjoy the (camera phone) photos of the afternoon:

I wish it had been warm enough to actually wade in the water. But alas, the usual schizophrenia of Oregon weather set in and a day after the temp hit 90 and had us all dripping in sweat, the clouds rolled in.

The human touch - inevitable, I suppose. I did not put that there, by the way, just noticed it. I ain't no litter bug!

Hubbel was a bit sick, trying to get over a nasty cold or something, but the trooper never complained (like I would have!).

John hates to have his picture taken, and I was lucky enough to capture that with perfect timing. I LOVE this picture.

I am white trash. Expecting scorching sun, I wore my bathing suit, a tank top and cut off shorts (that I think have shrunk since last summer!), but in desperation (I hate to be cold) had to add this old poncho that John had in his car. I felt like Britney Spears.

My attempt at "meaningful" photography with a camera phone! I call it "Pensive." Ha ha.

John and Hubbel reenacting the scene in Dirty Dancing when Johnny and Baby dance on the log. Contrary to what you may think because of his name, I'm pretty sure that John has taken on the Baby role.

Look at that water! I was so taken by its clarity I couldn't stop blabbering about it, so I'm glad you can kind of see that in the picture. These kayakers came down a bit of rapids into the placid pool while we were watching and it made me want to go rafting sooooo bad.

Something about the wilderness brings out the kid in John. Here's the monkey boy climbing another log.

This is what I looked at most of the hike. Of course, I'm not in any of the pictures because I'm the crazy picture taker.

Cute little log bridge over a stream that flowed into the river. See below...

I went down the edge of the water and so wanted to wade in...Maybe next time.

Do you doubt yourself? Worry that you're a failure? Then you may be suffering from Imposter Syndrome - just like EVERY OTHER 20-something out there!

2005-05-26T16:22:00.000-04:00

So sometimes when I'm bored at work I troll through the bulletin boards at mediabistro just to see what people are up to in the "media world" in which I revolve. How self-indulgent, I know.

Anyway, came across a post from a freelancer looking for "smart young women who doubt themselves," discounting their achievments - something she informed me is called "Imposter Syndrome." Hmmm, I thought, sounds like me - and all my friends for that matter! Maybe I have some insights to share. So I wrote her and actually came out with this very cathartic email, which I thought I would share with all of you dear readers. A blog is, after all, something of an online "journal," right? I thought maybe some more introspective posts were in order, so here it is.

After reading your email, I'm not sure I necessarily "suffer" from the Imposter Syndrome - i.e. I do give myself credit when I do well and enjoy my successes - but I do often doubt my abilities to "make it" in the real world and question how successful I will really be.

I guess it's just been such a big adjustment being in the working world; I graduated from college a year ago and it's taken that long to really feel comfortable and confident going to work everyday.

More than anything, I wonder if I'm making the right choices in my young career. I was an ASME intern in NYC the summer of 2003 and definitely on the magazine editing track throughout college, but after graduation money was tight and I wasn't able to move back to New York as I had hoped (I went to school and am still living in Portland, OR). Consequently, I couldn't apply for any editorial assistant positions (which is what all my close ASME friends are now doing), and I was stuck working as a receptionist at a law firm for 6 months.

Since November, I've been lucky enough to have found an entry-level position with a small PR agency (small as in just me and my boss) here in Portland working with a handful of lifestyle and fashion and beauty clients. At least in this job I am still connected with the magazine world that I had aspired to, albeit in a more "outside" role.

I never planned on doing PR and I still struggle with worries that my peers will think less of me for doing this (as you probably know, PR people aren't always so well-liked by magazine editors). And I miss New York and I wonder if I'm throwing away the opportunity to live there while I'm still young.

I was a straight-A student through college, got tons of scholarships, worked as a research assistant for one of my professors for three years, held four internships in newspapers and magazines, got published.....and yet, sometimes I think maybe I would be happiest just being a housewife one day, avoiding any chance of career failure or disappointment. I know I am smart and capable - my parents, my boyfriend, my friends have always told me that and voiced their admiration of my talents - but I still worry that by making the wrong choices, I will end up a professional failure.

And like I mentioned, I'm not the only one of my friends to feel this way. One of my long-time friends from HS is moving to NYC to attend The New School and get her master's in Media Studies, and yet sometimes she fantasizes about dropping out of her climb toward academia to just let her boyfriend support her. Another friend is an EA at a national magazine, and yet she wonders if she's on track with the rest of our ASME friends, getting enough chance to write, etc and opportunity to advance.

We've also all had a hard time adjusting to the maxim "Don't take it personally." Used to being praised constantly with good grades and supportive professors in college, when I get constructive criticism from my boss (which I am learning is inevitable in any job), I often obsess over it, berate myself for not knowing better, wonder if I'm going to be fired and then go home in an icky mood, desperate for some reassurance from my boyfriend that I AM smart and capable and a good employee. What an icky feeling!

It's extra hard for me because I work one-on-one with my boss everyday, so she immediately knows if I do something wrong and I immediately hear about, as opposed to getting a cushion of time to try and smooth things over before the boss hears about it through the grapevine.

Anyway, slowly but surely, I'm learning that just because I get a "You should do this from now on..." from my boss, it does NOT mean that she thinks I'm an idiot who should be fired. And I DO get praise when I do things well, and when that happens I feel good about it and don't usually downplay it in my head. Though I do worry that if I don't temper it with a bit of humility ("I got that client in that magazine just by luck, not my doggedly persistent following up"), I will become overly confident and stop working so hard. Weird worry, I know.

Anyway, I hope some of this helps...I don't know how coherent it is or how on-topic, but it was fun and insightful to write, so thanks! As for the basic details, my name is Liz, I'm 23, I live and work in Portland, OR in public relations - I guess my title is PR Assistant.

I heard back from the writer last night....my quote (whatever bits she may choose from my email) is going to be in an article in an upcoming For Me (new lifestyle magazine for a younger audience from Woman's Day). I'll of course post a link to it or something when it comes out. Am a being a bit too revealing, not private enough with these feelings? Oh well, I've never been a reserved person before, so I guess I won't start now. And any of these feelings sound familiar to you? If you want to share, please post away (I love to know I'm not alone!).

PO to the NY

2005-05-24T19:50:00.000-04:00

Yep, that's right, I'm headin' back to the east side, NYC. For the weekend at least. June 10th - 14th.

My itinerary: Fly into Newark at 10:45am on Friday, head into the city and drop my stuff at Mari's subletted closet on the Upper East (East or West?), then meet John's mom and aunts (for the first time!) for lunch, wander around (but more likely go nap in the closet), then finally dinner (by which time I will surely be in need of a stiff drink) with the ASME girls after work, just like the old days.

Saturday I'm going to be on a panel of PR newbies at a one-day PR mini-conference called "So You Want To Be A Publicist?" (this is the legitimate excuse for my trip), where I will network my butt off (just for you Mom!). And then perhaps a play that evening with Mari and whoever else is interested - we're thinking either Avenue Q or HurlyBurly. I should surely get tickets from TKTS on Friday or make Mari do it on Saturday. In either case, there will be some bar-hopping for sure after the show!

Sunday should surely involve reading the Sunday New York Times (love those wedding announcements) in Central Park and some shopping (H&M here I come!! Can I really wait that long?), and Monday will probably entail some more shopping tucked in around a visit to the new MOMA. Oh! And the girls and I should surely hit up the ritual $1 beers at Off the Wagon that night! Brunch on Tuesday will be the perfect send-off before I head to the airport and come on back to my P-town 'hood (where an upcoming move will await me). Sounds glorious to me! Only two weekends away, yo. Watch out.

As for this upcoming long weekend, I'm starting to become obsessed with the idea of going camping at the beach...we'll see if I can work that out with John, who is the expert in that area. I'm not sure how happy I will be about sand in my pants in the end, but doesn't it sound romantic? I'll try and post some pictures if we get there - the Oregon coast is magnificent!

Now that I'm actually going to be back in NYC in the very near future, I'm really liking really living the PONY lifestyle.

get ready....dodgeball for the 21st century

2005-05-19T22:21:00.000-04:00

Ch-ch-ch-check it: I'm taking on the role of early adopter and really really want everyone (whether in Portland or New York or whereever, though it will only work when we're in the same city - NYers, that will be the case June 10-14!) to join dodgeball with me! Imagine: I go out to 820 for a yummy happy hour lamb burger, and when I get there I send a text message to dodgeball that says I'm at 820 ("@820") and then dodgeball pings that text message around to everyone in my dodgeball network so they can meet up if they want. Comes in especially handy in loud bars and clubs and concerts where yelling into the phone "I'm at Doug Fir...Doug Fir....DOUG FIR!!!" over and over again can get quite annoying.

So wanna hit it up with me? Click on the dodgeball link above and sign up and then look for me (using my email - lizhummer@comcast.net - or my phone number) and add me as a friend. Once you're "in the know," you can invite your other friends who want to be just as cool as us, and then we start to have a friends-of-friends network a la Friendster, but way more practical because you know where people are hanging out and can actually meet up with them in real life. What a concept! And if you don't feel social one night (God forbid!), just don't "check in" with dodgeball by sending them a text message and no one knows where you are - as usual. Want some more info? See the FAQs below... Come on, all the cool kids are doing it (and if you need some more validation, Google just bought dodgeball, so it's about to get crazy popular)!

Q: What is it?
A: dodgeball.com is a social networking site built specifically for mobile phones.

Q: What does it do?
A: The idea is simple: tell us where you are and we'll tell you who and what is around you. We'll ping your friends with your whereabouts, let you know when friends-of-friends are within 10 blocks or alert you if any of your crushes are nearby.

Q: Give me an example.
A: Okay, so you're having drinks at Luna Lounge. Send us a text message telling us where you are and we'll fire off a text message to all your friends telling them where they can find you. If we find any friends-of-friends within 10 blocks, we'll ping you with their whereabouts too. If you have a camera phone, we'll even send you their picture.

Q: How do I use it?
A: Whenever you're out, use your mobile phone to send a text message to "portland@dodgeball.com" with a "@" and then the name of the bar, restaurant or park you're at. e.g. @Luna Lounge, @Bowery Bar. When we get your text message, we'll check to see if there's anyone you know nearby.

Q: So, how do you know who my friends are?
A: You need to tell us who your friends are, just like you did with those other social networking sites.

Q: So how is this different than those other social networking sites?
A: dodgeball.com is designed to help you meet up with friends and friends-of-friends while you're out, not while you're sitting at home in front of your computer. Try "checking-in" the next time you meet up with friends for drinks and see who you end up meeting up with.

Q: Now what?
A: To get started:

1. Head back to http://www.dodgeball.com
2. Browse around, find your friends and invite them to be your friend.
3. Send invites to your friends that haven't joined dodgeball.com yet.

We broke 100!!

2005-05-18T14:28:00.000-04:00

Check out the bottom of the page - we're at 101 visitors! Wooo-hooo. They like us, they really like us! (I'm sure at least 80 or 90 of those visitors are me and my dad)! Okay, that's enough exclamation points for now...

like sands through the hourglass, these are the pictures of our lives

2005-05-17T02:40:00.002-04:00

I'm too tired to write the more involved post I had planned for today, so instead I'm posting a few photos giving you a glimpse into the lives of Kristen and Liz, PONY girls.

See that girl with the chunky necklace and bracelet (so on top of the trends!). That's Kristen schmoozing with the best of 'em at one of the Ed2010 Happy Hours in NYC earlier this month. Ed2010 is a well-known (in the media world) resource for young magazine superstars, hosting happy hours for networking (and meeting fellow media types to sleep with - this is an incestuous business after all!), answering newbies' questions (all of which are pretty much different forms of "How do I get a job at a magazine?"), and posting "whisper" job openings that have yet to be officially posted on the traditional boards. Kristen looks ADORABLE in this picture, and I wish I had been there with her. I don't know who those schmucks are in the background, but the guy she's talking to on her left is Chris, a writer at People mag.

**CORRECTION: I am an idiot (and was pretty tired when I posted this last night), and upon closer inspection of the above picture, I realized that my friend, Emily (one of the three amigos during the NYC summer - me, Kristen and Emily) is in the background behind Kristen - and she's not a schmuck. Just wanted to clarify.

Meanwhile (well, not really "meanwhile" since this picture was taken at least 10 days after the one up there, but anyway...), I was in Seattle with the boys this past weekend for a Mariners baseball game (which I really enjoyed, by the way!) and we stopped by the Pike Place Fish Market (the infamous place where they throw around whole fish), which is pictured in the stunning camera phone photo here. I took this for Kristen to remind her of when we were in Seattle together last March ('04) and spent several hours, in a hangover daze, hanging around the fish market watching (and trying to flirt with) the cute fish mongers. There weren't any cute ones there this past weekend, which was for the best since this time I had my adorable boyfriend to pay attention to (had to say that just in case he's reading this, which he will be since I make him!).

So that's what we've been up to. Don't you wish you were us? Ha!

Portland has arrived!

2005-05-12T17:23:00.002-04:00

Well, if you consider Glamour magazine "arriving." No matter, it was still pretty cool to stumble across a mention of good ole Portland when I was reading their "Summer Must List" last night. There I was, frantically taking down notes so I can make sure to be in the cool crowd this summer (apparently, I must remember to paint my toenails neon pink and order green iced teas and French 75 cocktails), and then bam! Nestled amongst Pucci bikinis, teal eyeliner, Isaac Mizrahi for Target khaki pencil skirts, and weiner dog corn handles (these are actually kinda cute), was the very place I call home. If Glamour had a better website that actually contained any content, I could link you to the very article, but alas, you're going to have to make do with this direct quotation:

go somewhere fabulous:

$ PORTLAND, OREGON Full of pretension-free galleries and bars, it's the anti-Miami. Stay at the Kennedy School Bed & Breakfast. From $84 a night, kennedyschool.com.

Other "fabulous destinations"? Mexico City ($$), Thailand ($$), and Porto Ecole, Italy ($$$). Not bad company, right? I'm not sure yet how I feel about the whole "anti-Miami" label...I guess I just don't like putting a label on Portland, period, but as long as people don't equate "anti-Miami" with "anti-cool" and boring, and instead think laid-back, down-to-earth, fun, energetic, edgy excitement, than I guess it's okay.

And Kennedy School. Not a bad choice - especially if you're going for the whole "anti-Miami" vacation - but if I was coming to Portland for the first time I might stay at some place more central, in the thick of it (Hotel Lucia (hip, modern), The Benson (classic, old-school elegance), or the Jupiter Hotel (east-side cool)). Then again, Kennedy School is a very "Portland" place to be. Curious about it? Especially since Glamour gave you so little in the way of actual information? Well, consider Liz and the PONYtales blog your knight in shining armor coming to your rescue. Below are some pictures of Kennedy School, so all you New Yorkers can get a feel for what Glamour's talking about. Come out for a visit some time, ya hear!

The lovely exterior. Kennedy School is really an old elementary school that the McMenamins brothers bought and renovated (along with pretty much every other old building in Portland - McMenamins are more prolific than McDonalds around here!). The restaurant is the old cafeteria, the hotel rooms are old classrooms and the movie theatre is the old auditorium. The courtyard, gym and bathrooms all remain the same.

One of the guest rooms/old classrooms, complete with chalk board.

The movie theatre shows second-run movies (out of the main theatres but not yet on video) for just $3, plus you can drink beer or wine and eat yummy pizza all the while. John and I like to make sure we get a comfy couch to snuggle up on - sorry, was that too much information?

The Detention Bar rocks. Dark and smoky, serving cigars and whisky to a soundtrack of moody jazz. The Honors Bar is on the other side of the school, serving fruity cocktails and playing classical music. For the first time in my life, I want to go to detention.

Toss your salad? Toss MY salad!

2005-05-09T21:16:00.002-04:00

Sorry guys, I couldn't resist. Kristen, remember that Oprah episode about teenagers' sex lives with the teaser right before the commercial break in which Oprah said, "Do you know what your teen means when he says 'toss my salad'?" Ewwwww. Does any teenager say that to their parents - to anyone at all??

Anyway, to the meat of this post...err, the veggies, I mean. I realized on my drive home from work today, as my tummy rumbled, that I have a few VERY favorite salads at restaurants around town, and for all you Portlanders (and all you New Yorkers and others who decide to visit), I thought I'd share my recommendations. These salads are SO good, I'm telling you. SO GOOD that I'm blogging about them, which is really just ridiculous, so you know they have to be good!

Green Salad with House Raspberry Vinaigrette
at The Italian Joint
3145 SE Hawthorne
(It's the dressing that makes this salad. The perfect blend with hint of sweetness in the tangy vinaigrette. This concoction is so good that I asked for some to take home with me and ate salads for dinner the rest of the week - NOT a very typical diet for candy- and carb-loving me.)

Side Salad with Balsamic Vinaigrette (sensing a trend here - I like vinaigrette dressings)
at Rock Bottom Brewery
206 SW Morrison
(I know, it's a chain - ick. And frankly, I haven't been there in almost a year, but now that I'm writing this I really want to go get this salad. As their website attests, this is more than a side salad, covered with cheese, egg, bacon, croutons...oh, and maybe some veggies in the form of lettuce, tomatoes and carrots.)

Greek Salad
at Vincente's
1935 SE Hawthorne
(I feel a bit sacrilegious saying this Greek Salad is better than the one at the Greek Cuisina, but I'm taking the risk. A huge bowl of salad covered in kalamata olives and feta cheese. Mmmmm... You can usually find John and I fighting over the last big chunks of feta!)

Field Greens House Salad
at Henry's 12th Street Tavern
10 NW 12th
(Another restaurant I'm ashamed to include simply because the bar is such a meat market scene and I avoid it all costs, but this salad is just too good. I really love the bite size cherry tomatoes (marinated in basil!) and the cornbread croutons, which are just soft and sweet enough. Yummy! If you're getting dinner, you're in the dining room anyway and away from all the grossness in the bar - which would otherwise hijack your appetite.)

And now I am officially starving.

It's official!

2005-05-04T20:20:00.001-04:00

No, I do not have a diamond on my left ring finger (or anywhere else on my person for that matter). But John has finally been officially accepted to Lewis & Clark's Graduate School of Education! Once the excitement has worn off (and it hasn't yet), I think I will get a little scared about John having to do things like "study" and "go to class" and "write papers." I think it's gonna be weird to have someone else doing that while I'm not, ya know? But I love him and support him and know that he's going to be the most AMAZING high school teacher ever (next to this guy, of course - remember that show "Head of the Class"?) so I couldn't be happier. And now we're both going to be LC alum (not that they're going to get any more money out of us)!

If you feel so inclined, you can send congratulation messages here (I highly encourage it as John loves to have his ego stroked, and the more all of you do it, the less I have to!).

gold PONY shoes

2005-05-03T19:20:00.002-04:00

Many a time Kristen and I will yell at each other, GET OUT OF MY HEAD! You see, we just think a like so often that it gets eery - especially when we're across the country from each other. Today, we were in each other's closets, apparently, because we're both wearing gold shoes from Target. They aren't identical - that's mine in the crappy cell phone camera shot and Kristen's are the shot grabbed from the Target website - but still....damn! Gold shoes from Target on the same day.




Mossimo Corinne Gold Birdcage Pumps $16.99 (!!) at Target.com


Speaking of Target, does anyone else check out Target.com's Red Hot Shop? They've got exclusive cool, nifty, handy, cute, "designed" items that are the very definition of Target-cool.

Veiled Conceit

2005-05-02T20:38:00.002-04:00

Am I the only young woman not looking to get married any time soon who is fascinated by The New York Times Sunday Weddings section? First of all, let's not even pretend that when I used to get the Sunday NY Times (been on hiatus thanks to budgetary cutbacks at the Hummer household) I would read the front page section or even the "Week in Review" news. Hells no! I jumped right to Sunday Styles (also pulling out the magazine and Arts section for good measure, but more often than not never getting around to reading them either) and licked my lips in anticipation of satiating my voyeuristic addiction to the wedding announcements.

I'm not sure what it is that so interests me about these mini-peeks into other people's lives...I love to read about where their parents live, what colleges and grad schools they went to, where they work and where they live, trying to piece these facts into some vision of what their life has been like, what has brought them to this point. It's not that I'm envious of what they have or unhappy with my own life, just curious about the decisions other people make in their lives and how they find happiness, I guess. Of course, how can I really know that from the few sanitized and polished up tidbits the Times prints? I mean, shit, this is what my life would boil down to right now in the NY Times Wedding section:

Elizabeth Lauren Hummer, daughter of J. Thomas Hummer of Portland, Ore. and Nancy Milton of Elk Grove, Calif., was married yesterday to _______________ [I'm not going to freak John out by including him in this purely hypothetical wedding announcement that's really all about me anyway], son of ____________. Officiant and location TK.

Ms. Hummer, 23, is an assistant account executive for PR-at-Large, a public relations agency in Portland, Ore. She graduated magna cum laude from Lewis & Clark College.

Her father retired from the 5th Circuit Court of Appeals in Sacramento, Calif., where he was a staff research attorney. Her mother retired from family law mediation and now works for the Catholic Diocese in Sacramento. The bride is the step-daughter of Joseph Milton, staff counsel at the California State Department of Fish & Game.

Groom's info goes here.......

Jeez, what does that tell ya about me? A whole lotta nothin'! But that's what it would say about me following the NY Times format. Let's just say I won't be getting married until I have more achievements under my belt to include in a wedding announcement! Ha.

Anyway, the point of this post is that I have found a blogger who is equally as fascinated with the NY Times Wedding announcements as me, and posts merciless comments and judgmental inferences about the couples for me (and hopefully you) to enjoy at Veiled Conceit.com. Have fun making fun of all those blissful newlyweds!

Updates

2005-05-01T17:14:00.000-04:00

I'm famous! The pic of me jumping into the RedBall at Pio Square is posted on the RedBall website. Check it out!

It will be mine. Oh yes! It will be mine. The racehorse duffel bag, that is. Yes, I made the purchase and I will soon be carrying around this adorable, quirky bag on my shoulder. Thought you all should know.

Oh yeah, duh, how could I forget? [Did I just use "duh" in a written sentence???] I got myself a camera phone, too. Here's the first photo I took of John:

Isn't he a cutie??

Life is good. I need some Rice Krispies.

I am Forever 21 (God forbid!)

2005-04-29T17:03:00.002-04:00

When I was sitting on the plane to NYC for the first time nearly two years ago, an eager young beaver watching a continuous loop of Sex and the City on my new laptop and ready to take on the Manhattan magazine world, one of things I was most excited about was making my first trip to H&M.

In my three years of college, I had become a fan of Forever 21, the mecca for cheap trendy clothes, but I was always careful to use a discerning eye to pick out the pieces that would add some pizzazz to my wardrobe while still looking classy. Reading magazines religiously, I had come to learn about H&M, another mecca for cheap trendy clothes, but located only in Manhattan. The H&M pieces shown in fashion spreads seemed to be much more up my ally, blending cutting edge trends with classic sophistication (instead of latching onto the tacky trends and running with them, overdoing the sequins and glitter and polyester, as Forever 21 is apt to do), and I was ready to buy up the whole store.

Indeed, a made a point to visit H&M on my first full day in Manhattan and emerged with lots of cute stuff that I still wear today - a flowy silver racer-back tank, a black skirt suit, an asymmetrical lavender striped skirt.

The weird thing was that whenever I'd wear one of my Forever 21 tops, I'd get tons of compliments on it, with my friends always asking me wear I got it. At first ashamed of my second-rate H&M wannabe, I sheepishly said, "Forever 21," but always made the point to say that you have to be VERY choosy when shopping there (thereby making me sound like a savvy bargain hunter with style). Slowly but surely, much to my amazement, the girls all wished they could hit up a Forever 21, too. I suppose the grass is always greener, right?

Well, New York must have missed my Forever 21 style, because not long after I returned to Portland, two new outposts opened up in the city, one just blocks from where I lived during that summer. I remember Kristen excitedly telling me about finally getting the chance to shop there, but I just braced myself for her inevitable disappointment. Indeed, she quickly realized that the Forever 21 pieces in my wardrobe represented only a small percentage of what the store had to offer (and I must add, the most stylish small percentage of what the store had to offer), and the novelty of Forever 21 soon wore off.

Until yesterday, that is. The New York Times' new Thursday Style Section devoted an entire article to Forever 21. I can't for the life of me figure out why, now, they decided to write about the (in my opinion) second-rate H&M, but I guess I'm not surprised. The New York Times isn't exactly Vogue, or even Lucky. When you let them expand their style coverage to two days a week, this is what you get. In any case, I wanted to share some of my favorite parts of the piece with you, my dear readers...

If stores were Hilton sisters, H&M would be Nikki, and Forever 21 would be Paris. Where H&M might have restrained cargo pants and khaki blazers along with camisole tops, Forever 21 offers a dazzling array of silk chiffon halter tops, sequined denim jeans and terry cloth hot pants.

My point, exactly.

On my second visit the canvas drape shielding my 30-something body from the crowd of teenage girls was pulled back by mistake at least twice. Sorry, they mumbled. The drape closed. Then, giggles.

Ha ha. At least that's better than the room-less communal dressing rooms at Century 21.

All prices end in 80, a spokesman said, to give back "just that little bit more to the customer."

Awww, that's sweet. I love little bits of trivia like this.

And what's the lesson you're supposed to come away with from this post? We DESPERATELY need to get an H&M out here in the Northwest! Okay, I guess I'll have to settle for the one opening in San Fran later this year. Who wants to join me on a little H&M shopping spree?

My New Addiction

2005-04-28T21:12:00.002-04:00

Oh man, I thought Us Weekly was good for ogling celeb papparazi shots, but check out this blog: Pink Is The New Blog. It's all the gossip you can handle, celeb shots and snarky comments. Love it! When there's nothing new at Awful Plastic Surgery, you'll find me scrolling down this spot. How do I ever get any work done?!

RedBallRedBallRedBallRedBallRedBall

2005-04-27T02:08:00.002-04:00

You'd think I'm obsessed, wouldn't you? I've been wanting to post these photos from when the RedBall was here, but I didn't want the project to completely take over the blog. So I put up a few posts in between and now I can share some of these more candid RedBall shots.

Selena gets up close and personal with the giant red ball. Watch out - that thing throws you back with just as much, if not more, force as you use to jump into it.

Case in point: I even got some air on this one, and then not even a second after this photo was snapped, I nearly face-planted on the cement thanks to the kick-back. Ahhh, the power of the RedBall.

Selena and Kurt (the artist), before.

Selena and Kurt, after. Ahhh, the power of the RedBall. ;-)

Magalog Central

2005-04-26T23:45:00.002-04:00

Like they say, timing is everything. Right after I put up a post way too reminiscent of Lucky, the matriarch of the "magalog" (that's "magazine" and "catalog" combined, also known as the shopping magazine, in the forms of Lucky, Cargo and Domino (Vitals is a bit of one, too)), Salon.com puts up an article about the very phenomenon, cast through the lens of media/cultural criticism. Here's the gist:

Now that Domino has dropped, the insidiousness of the shopping magazine takes a clear form: Why spend years building a personal aesthetic when you can just buy one?

Of course, I love the shopping mags - they are a form of vicarious shopping from the comfort of my couch and harmless to my bank account, but I also understand what Stephanie Zacharek, the writer, is talking about and, frankly, wish I would have written something like this myself. Ah well, I'll at least link to it to make myself feel smarter by association.

Don't Buy It! on Salon.com

My latest crushes...

2005-04-26T01:05:00.002-04:00

Please humor me for a few minutes as I digress from meaningful blog contributions (ha ha - I promise I'm not that delusional) and offer up my own personal version of Lucky. In other words, here are the things I've been eyeing during my virtual window shopping and for lack of anything real to write about, I'm going to show you pictures of my desired items and tell you why I want them. Psychoanalysis optional.

The classic Eero Saarinen Tulip table. I've been big on mod white accents lately (as you'll see with the alarm clock below), and this would be so fun to sit down at. Hell, I might even eat at my dining room table if this was it.

The real thing is over $1,000. Hmm, yeah, I think I'll be picking up this $150 Ikea version instead.

Back when it was weirdly sunny for weeks at a time, I got a new bike - well, new to me since it's a vintage Schwinn cruiser, brown paint with white starbursts on it. Then it started to rain again, bringing all us Portlanders back down to reality, and sentencing my new bicycletta to my dining room. Before I start riding for real, I want to add these blue glitter handlebar grips to add some pizzazz. Isn't blue and brown a sweet combo?

I've got WAY to much makeup when you consider how much I don't wear it. But it's just so fun to buy and imagine getting all prettied up. I don't know about the rest of y'all ladies, but I've got two makeup bags - the big storage catch-all for all the stuff I think I'll use one day but never works its way into my daily routine, and the small, fit-in-my-oh-so-fabulous purse small pouch for my daily essentials. The problem is that my small travel makeup bag is old, so old it has a "Heetrz" sticker on it (Mari knows what I'm talking about - all the way back to high school). So I want this punchy modern-yet-retro makeup bag. I think it'll make me smile every time I don't like what I see in the mirror.

Sevens. I know, how typical. But no jeans have ever made my butt look as good as the classic Sevens I got at Atrium during my NYC summer. Now those Sevens have a huge hole above the left knee and it's only a matter of days before my underwear starts showing through the thinning denim covering my ass. It's time for a new pair. And why fix something if it ain't broke, right?

I so want a camera phone. There's always random things I notice when I'm out and about that I want to show someone else. Plus, I'm bored with my phone and I think it sounds like crap (from what people tell me). So when John finally gets that $150 credit to Car Toys in the mail, I'm heading right over there and making this phone mine. And then I probably won't be able to stop posting cell phone photos on the blog. Watch out!

Dad, this one's for you. I have a soft spot in my heart for horses thanks to the mornings spent at the race track with my dad when I was just a toddler, eating waffles and watching the race horses get their morning exercise. I desperately want to ride again, but until then, I think this small duffel should be my summer bag (don't worry, I'm still loyal to my Botkier - just need a more casual bag to get down and dirty with during the summer).

This is pretty much the alarm clock version of the Eero Saarinen table, so hot. And as anyone who knows me knows, I simply canNOT wake up in the morning, so maybe the robotic voice that yells out the time as the "alarm" will be just the thing to get me out of bed.

Lately I've really wanted to do some old-school paint-by-numbers, and what's more perfect for me than a horse portrait? Alexis, can we make paint-by-numbers the next crafting project...after the wood beads, of course!

So that's all the rad stuff that's on my radar (ick, that damn Radar magazine - I really hope I don't end up liking it, which I probably will). Anyone want to contribute to the Liz-Wants-To-Go-Shopping fund? Ha ha. Seriously (Mom), I'm going to pay my bills, promise. In the meantime, though, Nikki, my boss, gave me her $150 credit to b-glowing.com, the beauty website we rep, so I'm gonna go do some real spending on all the get-pretty stuff I'd never be able to afford in real life.

RedBall redux

2005-04-20T20:55:00.002-04:00

In case you were wondering, here's a GORGEOUS photo montage of the RedBall at its first Portland location last Sunday, 4/10. It was an awesome experience (and yes, I mean that in the OED definition "filled with awe" kind of way). Although I know I can safely say I didn't have even a fraction of the good time Selena had last week! ;-)

Ask yourself...

2005-04-14T02:02:00.002-04:00

Gawker jokes that this list of questions is what New York City is using to measure people's risk of depression. To me, they are the reasons I both long to and fear moving back to NYC.

· How much is your rent?
· Have you had difficulty finding a caring partner who loves and respects you?
· Is your career personally fulfilling?
· How much is your rent?
· Do you fear being the victim of a violent crime?
· Have you found supportive, loyal friends whom you can trust and confide in?
· How many roommates do you have?
· Can you afford to take advantage of all the social and cultural activities this city has to offer?
· How much is your rent?

The thing is, by these standards, my quality of life is pretty awesome in Portland. My rent is insanely low at $220/month; I have a wonderfully caring partner who loves, respects and admires me; my career, though just starting out, is interesting and challenging (this one, I have to admit, is a little shakier - I still miss mags); aside from John having a glass Gatorade bottle thrown through his car window (where in the world can you still buy Gatorade in a glass bottle??), there's been no violent crime anywhere in my vicinity; I have a number of good friends here - though I certainly have even more in NYC; 2 roommates, but one is my boyfriend and he doesn't count; and because everything is more reasonably priced here, I CAN afford to take advantage of the social and cultural activities in Portland (believe me, there are more than you may think). But there is still something about NYC that's calling me, like an irresistible siren song. In an ideal world, I would live in both places. Maybe one day I will.

Alexis has some thoughts to share.

2005-04-12T01:27:00.002-04:00

My dear friend (and former roommate, so we have been through the worst together) friend, Alexis, had a little something she wanted to get off her chest this evening, and I thought - Hey! I have this new, nifty, super-duper BLOG that's the perfect platform to rant and rave! - so I invited her to be a "guest blogger." I just like saying I have a "guest blogger"...hee hee. Without further ado, "Lexy's Rant":

Theory: Every guy thinks that every girl automatically wants to be his girlfriend.

You’ve suffered through the awkwardness of the first date, more comfortably attended a movie together (but still in that nervous our-arms-are-touching-on the-armrest sort of way) for a second date, and are beginning to feel pretty relaxed when he’s planning the next date before the one you’re on has even ended.

Flash forward.

“So, are we still on for tonight?” you ask.

Pause. Still pausing. Okay, this is a really long “something isn’t as peachy as I thought it was” pause.

“Well, here’s the thing…”

Damn it. And you thought this one was different.

“I just need to take some space for myself right now.”

Space? You asked me to go on this date, remember?

“I’m not sure if I’m ready for this…”

Ready? Do you need more time to shave, or pick out a belt to match those pleated corduroy pants that I know from our previous two dates you’re going to wear?

“I just don’t want either of us to get hurt.”

Unless you were concerned with a crab-shell-cracker injury at the “fancy” Red Lobster dinner you’re taking me to, then I have no idea what you are talking about.

“I just need some time to think about us.”

Us? When did we become an “us”? And do I still get dinner? Because the cheddar biscuits are the only reason I agreed to go to that pseudo-fancy, one-step-above the Olive Garden fish house.

Why is it that every guy thinks that every girl he meets automatically wants to be his girlfriend? Because here’s the thing- we don’t. I just thought we were going to Red Lobster, but apparently, to him a shrimp cocktail means yours is the only tail he will be getting now that you’re dining together.

Contrary to popular (male) belief, we’re not all interested in clinging to your sculpted biceps, staring down every girl who happens to glance in your direction, screaming “That’s my man, biatch!” with only our eyes. We really don’t want to spend every free moment of our time with you, talking about shopping, our friends, and oh God, feelings. But why are guys thinking, “I see where this is going, and I’d better stop the Girlfriend Express before this gets out of hand?”

Sure, there are a few ladies out there who hunt for boyfriends like they are that fat-free, sugar-free chocolate dessert that actually tastes good (I mean, you know it’s out there, you just have to find it, and cling to it for dear life because that’s the best damn dessert you’re ever gonna find). But overall, most of us are just looking for a cute guy to call up and take us to dinner and a movie on Saturday night.

Let’s face it; to most women men aren’t some terrified prey we stalk as if we are asp-like predators looking to suffocate and eat them. Men are more like that slightly worn pair of Marc Jacobs Mary Janes you bought at Buffalo for fifty bucks. They are perfect for dinner on a Friday night, drinks on Saturday night, and maybe around the house in the middle of the afternoon when you just need to feel pretty. But you’re not going to wear them everyday; you wouldn’t even want to wear them everyday. They don’t go with every outfit you own, they are used (that’s why they were such a bargain), and you still have plenty of other shoes you love to wear.

But here’s the thing. The shoes don’t ask you for space if you wear them to dinner on Friday and the bar on Saturday. They’d even let you wear them to work on Monday if you wanted to.

Lesson: Always pick your Marc Jacobs over a date with any Mark or Jacob, because instead of looking to be the girlfriend, you just want to look cute in your Mary Janes.

On the Cutting Edge of Journalism (ha!)

2005-04-11T22:51:00.002-04:00

I'm not really sure whether to be proud of this or laugh at it, but I'm sharing it nonetheless. The Willamette Week, our alternative news weekly, just won a Pulitzer. I'd love to celebrate this achievement for the often overlooked Portland press - and especially trumpet the fact that the scrappy, edgy "cool" paper full of escort ads and indie rock reviews won journalism's highest honor while our one daily newspaper, the delusionally righteous (and predictable) Oregonian, came away empty-handed for once. The Willamette Week is supposed to be the newspaper of my generation, and I should see this award as an optimistic sign that the establishment is open to a new guard.

The thing is, the scrappy, edgy "cool" Willamette Week also takes itself too seriously. They are the kind of publication that talks about itself - brags about itself - in its own pages (like how the Post likes to pat itself on the back when they publish a gossip bit before anyone else and publish that fact as if it's gossip itself). The "Willy Week" just thinks it's cooler than everyone, cooler than even its readers, and I hate that elistist bullshit. Jane has that same cooler than thou attitude. What's even worse about the Willamette Week is that it's gone beyond just discovering the next "it" local band and offering up hipster horoscopes; it's now priding itself on its tenacious, unflinching investigative reporting (which, I have to admit, must be good because that's what the Pulitzer was awarded for), while looking with disdain on the "lifestyle" coverage (movies, books, retail) that Portlanders really pick up the free pub to read. Should I fault the paper for trying to gain respect for serious journalism, trying to remake the "fluff" rag (which I personally love) into a hard-news-driven paper, serving as a governmental and big business watchdog, digging up secrets and righting long covered-up wrongs? First, their reporting forced the president of my college to resign (deservedly so) after losing $10 million in a bad investment, and now they've won the Pulitzer for uncovering a former governor's sexual relationship with a 14-year-old that had been ignored for 30 years. I admire what they're doing from a journalistic standpoint. I just can't shake the feeling that they're muckracking is more about gaining attention - and awards - for themselves rather than serving their readership. And goddamnit, I just wish that along with their so-called noble motives, they were able to have a sense of humor about themselves as well.

Anyway, who really cares what I think about it. In the end, it's pretty damn cool that our weekly won a Pulitzer. So I guess I'm proud of this. And I'll leave it at that.

RedBall in Portland - brought to us from NYC

2005-04-06T23:53:00.002-04:00

I wish we had architecture like this in Portland, but at least we will be graced with this very same RedBall next week, joining St. Louis, Barcelona and Sydney as the 4th city to host this traveling public art installation.

The 15-foot inflatable red ball will be wedged into different locations in Portland's architecture everyday next week, prompting residents to see their urban landscape with fresh eyes when the structures are juxtaposed with a absurdly surprising, giant red ball. It's gonna be SO AWESOME to see this person, but makes me the happiest about it all is the following...

A fortuitous pairing, Portland-based Kevin Carroll and New York-based Kurt Perschke came together recently through a mutual friend who recognized the enormous potential for synergy in their work. Upon communicating, Carroll, an author and internationally recognized inspirational presenter, and Perschke, an accomplished visual artist, were both struck by the coincidence of an interest in play, discovery, and imagination. This belief in the inherent value of play drew Carroll to Perschke’s work and RedBall Portland was born.

Yes, I may be promoting this event for work, but I really wanted to post it because it's the perfect example of a PONY collaboration - a NYC artist bringing his modern art to PDX, a city that's full of character-defining architecture (bridges, renovated warehouses, Michael Graves' classic Portland Building) and an adventurous and vibrant population (jeezus, do I sound like the visitors' bureau or what?). We're not the only ones who believe in PONYs.

Check back next week for pics of the RedBall at its Portland locations! In the meantime you can see a sketch of the first Portland location - Arlene Schnitzer Concert Hall - here.

Mystery solved!!

2005-04-06T20:41:00.002-04:00

Since we are magazine whores and circulate (or at least pretend to) in that world, it goes without saying that both Kristen and I are HUGE fans of Susan Orlean (who, by the way, got her start here in Portland and will be back in town on April 24th as part of Portland's annual Wordstock Festival). In the same way we think we're great writers - that's why we're doing this blog, right? - we also like the idea of appreciating the fine journalism in The New Yorker (where, ahem, Susan Orlean is a staff writer).

BRIEF TANGENT: I actually don't know about Kristen, but I have a subscription to The New Yorker both because I like the idea of it and I actually do enjoy the articles - when I actually sit down and read them, that is. Most of the time, though, my weekly (who can keep up with a weekly mag, anyway) issues get pushed aside for my US Weekly (hmm, that's also weekly, and yet the pictures are so much easier to get through than pages of dense text). I'm ashamed to admit it, but it's true. So I have stacks of New Yorker's piling up next to my bed. At least I look smart.

Anyway, back to the point of this post. The New Yorker doesn't publish a masthead, never has and seemingly never will. Which, of course, makes us even more curious as to who the lucky ones are that get to say, "I work at The New Yorker." Our dear friend, Kerry, got to say that during the summer of our ASME internships together, and we all even had lunch in their offices (I was probably too hungover to really enjoy it at the time), but the mystery of the complete masthead still remained unsolved. Until now. It seems we're not the only ones curious about such things, and the New York Observer put someone on the job, following leads and piecing together clues to form the closest thing to a masthead this venerable publication has ever seen. To me, it's akin to the Holy Grail. And now I'm sharing it with all of you (how many people know about this so far - two?). The New Yorker masthead, or as close as we're gonna get. Enjoy!

friends or strangers?

2005-04-05T22:32:00.002-04:00

this WAS a multi-paragraph musing about how an old college acquaintance thinks we're long lost best friends (when we really only spent two weeks during the first month in college as friends) and wondering how it's possible that two people can possibly have such different perceptions of what their relationship means and, yes, even admitting a bit of vulnerability that i REALLY hope i'm not this girl in any of my supposed "friendships"....but, alas, my computer skills must not be as developed as i thought they were and i lost the entire thing somewhere between writing it and trying to post it to the blog. so this is what you're getting. and in the spirit of sharing everything - and because i'm DAMN frustrated to lose 20 minutes of writing into the ether - i'm posting it to the blog. deal with it! this'll get better, i promise.

2005-04-05T21:31:00.002-04:00

Alright, the east coast half of this operation is finally up and running. Sadly, I'm stealing internet from my Brooklyn apartment right now, so I'm going to cut it short-- just for now.
more later lizzy, i promise :)

I always wanted a pony when I was little...

2005-04-05T02:38:00.002-04:00

so now Kristen and I are starting our own! Welcome to PONYtales....more info to come...i'm falling asleep.