Wednesday, November 28, 2012

Perspective.

Today I was dressed like an Eskimo (or what an Eskimo with access to the Columbia outlet might dress like). I wore knee socks under my rain boots, jeans (electric blue skinny ones, of course), a camisole, a long sleeve t-shirt, a zip up fleece, my Columbia jacket with the lining zipped in, a scarf and a hat. This was my attire to trek to the bus stop (3 blocks), get off bus 1 and walk to bus stop 2 (1 block), then get dropped off at the corner of the building in which I work. I was outside for 15 minutes max. It was 42 degrees and drizzling.

Remember the days when I lived in Chicago and 42 degrees in November was totally bearable because we all knew the 20's were coming in January? California baby-fied me. My tolerable temperature zone ranges from about 60 - 75, a mere 15 degrees. That's it. I better toughen up or move back to San Diego... how many years of school do I have left in Portland? Yikes.

While waiting at the bus stop (crabby, of course, because it's a cold, wet morning and I'm not in my bed), a lady on a bike rode past. Picture this: Bike with a wheel-barrow type basket built into the front of the frame. Basket is covered with a clear plastic rain shield with bright yellow trim. Lady peddling the bike is wearing a bright pink jacket, a cute hat and little brown pig tails peeking out the sides. Just too darn cute for a late November morning in Portland. As she rides by my bus stop, I look in the basket and see two equally cute kids riding along with Mommy. Just adorable. It made me want to stop being crabby. And take a picture. (Sadly, I knew I wouldn't be quick enough so I didn't even reach for my phone.)

But for reals - different perspectives on the same situations - not even the same, because my commute required far less effort than hers - and she was so cheerful that it showed. Time to take notes. 
Not time to let the Portland weather get me down!

Wednesday, October 31, 2012

Time for an outlet. I can't guarantee it will be coherent, but I can guarantee it will not be academic and will certainly not involve a single diagram of the laryngeal structures. Also, I will change grammatical tenses intermittently, with no recognizable pattern.

     This evening I wore Minnie Mouse ears and a shiny red belt while I studied. I try extra hard to win over the barista at my local coffee shop because I get the impression that he doesn't like my kind (you know, the conventional Californian in me, the one who isn't an angsty and organic Oregonian). He's warming up to me. An almost-affectionate look washed over his face as I ordered my standard "mocha that's as sweet as a hot chocolate, please." ...Or maybe his smile was a smirk because I'm 26 years old and donning over-sized sequined black ears with a sparkly red bow in the middle, while ordering a very grown-up beverage. Either way, we'll be friends soon.
     At 10:37 pm, the girls behind me and I simultaneously concluded our study sessions. In our moment of solidarity, we exchanged the details of what we were studying. They are studying Chinese medicine, how fascinating and non-traditional of them. As we parted ways, they donned their bicycle helmets and bike lights to trek home on their ten-speed street bikes in the rain. I got in my Nissan Sentra to drive home, warm and dry. It's not that I don't like biking, it's just that in my oh-so-conventional ways, I moved to Oregon with a one-speed beach cruiser with the only gear being slow. That's why they study Chinese medicine and I study speech pathology. But, hey, this is Portland, so we're all cool with whatever.

Oh the joys...

And we're off...
I've learned that I cannot have a healthy acceptance of the events and occurrences in my life unless I have an outlet to vent, rant and be blatantly sarcastic. Only then can I learn to laugh about things and let them go, instead of keeping a long list of pent up frustrations. So, just one day after the anniversary of my 3rd month in Portland, I feel it is appropriate to let the venting begin. You may be my facebook friend, and you may have seen minute glimpses into my interesting encounters here in Bridgetown/Stumptown/Ripcity/whateveryoucallPortland, but here is a place where I will really lay it all out. Be warned.



Jennifer Bieda
16 hours ago near Portland
Thoughts I've had today:
1.) The English language offers many acceptable verbal space fillers (uh, um, so, like, etc). F*ckin' is not one of them.
2.) I am inconvenienced when 1 person takes up 1.5 bus seats. Do I squeeze into the vacant .5 seat, or do I stand on the bus ride home from a doctor's appointment for which my chief complaint was dizziness?
3.) If you're going to cross-dress, fine. But don't stare at me waiting for my reaction. I don't care enough to react. Really.
Like · 


When people are in an academic setting, I would prefer if they sounded mildly intelligent. I don't believe using f*ckin to fill the silence while you compilate your next speech segment is an excellent way to sound even remotely capable of any type of intellect.
I don't mind if people are larger than me, but I do mind being forced to stand when I'm so dizzy I forget what I've stood up for.
I moved to Portland for a number of reasons, one of them being, I'm not homophobic or even cross-dress-ophobic. So please stop staring at me Sir/Mam.
Today I had to clean up soiled toilet paper that didn't quite hit the mark (i.e. make it into the toilet bowl). I'm not even going to speculate about who threw fecal matter on the bathroom floor, but I know it was not me or my housemate with whom I share the bathroom. Sickening. This even, however, forced me to lighten up and enjoy the rest of my evening. It was either that or cry. I chose to go out for sushi with my roommate.
The end.