Push Me, Pullman

Remember the Portland Pearl Jam show I was so hyped about a few weeks ago? Well the date was announced a bit sooner than I expected. Way sooner actually. Like this week and it doesn't look good.

The bastards scheduled the show on the 21st of July. The same day as Amanda's brother's wedding. This makes the two shows that we even had a remote chance of going to scheduled during the only five days we wouldn't be able to attend. First the Gorge in this beautiful amphitheater overlooking the Columbia River and now this quaint event of two thousand. And the final kick in the nuts, I also found out today that the Modest Mouse show we had tickets for in Portland was cancelled and Ticketbastards are going to pocket the twenty dollar service charge. Tis a sad, sad day indeed.

But they will return next year I'm sure, or atleast I hope, with a full west coast tour and I will be there. I wouldn't think of missing the wedding even if it was their last show. Well, I would think about it and probably even consider an elaborate kidnapping scheme to delay the event, but in the end I wouldn't miss the wedding of family; which has been planned for over a year now; for any reason. I mean you'd have to be some real self obsorbed piece of shit to do that now wouldn't you?

A woman at Amanda's job has been working on her for a while, trying to convince her that she had this dog the we should adopt. Apparently she started bringing it to work and leaving it in her office so she would grow attached to her as well. Well this week they started in on me. So we agreed to keep her over the weekend and give her a test run.

Her name is Sage and she's a four year old Welsh Corgy. The previous owner had MS and was unable to care for her so she gave her to the Corgy Rescue. She's a well tempered dog and doesn't care one way or the other about the cats. Although Cringer sure seemed to mind. I'm sure it's something he'd have to get used to again. She stayed close by when we took her for walks and didn't get too excited when we'd pass people or other dogs. It's amusing to watch her walk with her short stubby legs. It sort of reminds me of the way Hank Hill's dad waddles without his shins.

She really was perfect for us. She's older so all that puppy energy and need for constant attention is gone and she seems content just lying next to you. But at the same time she can get rowdy and rambuctious when playing. She makes me think of what a hybrid between my first two dogs would have been; Schultz the german shephard and Toby the dachshund. Too bad she has such a lame name. I plan to work extensively on getting her accustomed to her new name Scheisse asap.

After our first failed attempt at finding a home we were determined that this time was going to be it. We now had a much clearer picture of what we were looking for; a house, atleast two bedrooms, preferably two bathrooms, and in the Milwaukie area. So once again on Saturday we set off on our search only this time we found it. We actually bought a house. The hunt is over and here she is.

Remarks: This light filled house on quiet cul-de-sac offers living room w/vaulted ceiling, large bedrooms, 2 baths, new carpet, new gas furnace '04, kitchen w/garden window & new countertops appliances stay, slider door from dining area to patio, tranquil landscaped yard. AHS Home Warranty provided.

Closing is July 14th although the current home owner has agreed to pay us rent to be able to stay untill the 17th. So that puts us moving in on the 18th before leaving on the 19th for Amanda's brother's wedding. Coming then will be a new blog with exciting new entries and photos, but for now you can enjoy these small shots from the realtor's listing.

It's been almost a year since we last saw Pearl Jam in concert and we're starting to suffer from withdrawal. With the guys heading to Europe after a disappointingly short and East Coast oriented first two legs it looks like it'll be a while before they come our way. Or will it?

As some of you may know I'm a member of a private elitist PJ message board called Strangest Tribe. If it's Pearl Jam related some one knows and shares the info. If Mike gets a new tattoo or Jeff buys a new pair of capris we know. It's like a band blog, only written by a hundred or so fanboys. So the other day I was wondering what the guys were up to and was browsing the Newer News section when I came accrossed something of great interest and thought I'd give you a head's up so you can prepare.

Word is Pearl Jam will be performing a benefit concert for CCA in Portland, OR at the 2,776 seat Arlene Schnitzer Concert Hall. This will be a rare oppertunity to see them in such an intimate setting. So don't miss out! Start saving now because ontop of a plane ticket to Portland (you were planning on coming to visit anyway, right?) tickets will likely be 150 to 200 dollars. And hopefully there will be a Seattle show the following night, so we can all pile in the new van and drive about 3 hours to yet another show. You get the plane tickets and I'll take care of room and board and we'll have a gay old time. Sign the comments section if you're interested and I'll let you know when a date is set and do my damnedest to help you get tickets. In the meanwhile now may be a good time to buy or renew a ten club memebership.

With a little over a month left in Pullman we thought maybe it was time we started looking for a place to live. We had no idea where to even begin searching in Portland so I contacted an agent. We didn’t even know what we really wanted; a condo, a house, how many bedrooms, how many bathrooms, or most importantly how much we wanted to spend. Nevertheless we set out Saturday morning on our search.

Our first destination was the up and coming St. Johns area North of Portland where we looked at a few condos. There was one that was pretty nice that had been fully renovated with hardwood floors and shiny new metal appliances for damn cheap too, but small, oh so very tiny, minuscule even. We then saw a string of some of the worst houses I’ve ever been inside with smells I had and hope to never smell again. Eventually we came to the “KISS House”. We labeled it as such because of the over abundance of KISS memorabilia and because it sounded better than the “Domestic Abuse House”. So first we were a little put off that the seller’s realtor had scheduled two showings at the same time. Then we enter to find that one of the occupants is still there with her baby. So the seventy of us crowded in the entry way promptly dispersed to different sections of the house. As I went from room to room I started noticing a lot of badly done patches in the walls. By the time I made it to the master bedroom door I knew what was up. The door’s latch was broken outward as if having been busted in assumingly by some dumb ass drunk not smart enough to stick a screw driver in the lock release hole on the door knob. Hundreds of scenes from Lifetime movies come to mind. The backyard was Kelly Butte Park. There’s about five feet or so out from the house then an eighty degree angle climb up to the top. It was awesome and probably my favorite feature of the house.

We were so tired by the time we saw the fourteenth house that I don’t even think I went in any of the rooms. The neighborhood gave off a serious suburbia vibe. We started having bad flashbacks of our brand new house we once owned in the Vandervean subdivision in Columbia surrounded by procreating yuppies. We couldn’t get out of there and back to Marcus and Mary’s place fast enough. After a shower and a nap we sat down and looked over all out choices and decided we could really make the “KISS House” work for us. So we put in an offer. Unfortunately so had four other potential buyers so we’ll see.

Well it only took 6 weeks and a couple of irate phone calls for the office to send a maintenance guy to replace our garbage disposal. For the past month it has leaked dirtied water under our counter onto a towel. Every time I called it was something new, “Our repair guy is sick.” “I thought it had been fixed.” “We’re waiting on a disposal.”

This weekend we went to a student party. It’s getting that time when interns and students alike are starting to make preparations for next year so it was a hot topic of the party. Right now our answer is we’re looking at Seattle. Being in Washington we received plenty of feedback on that choice. It truly is the favored side of state. I met a girl that’s moving to Portland, and started talking about that and our cats. Until some how we got on the subject of our lame apartment management and all the absurd troubles we’ve had. Turns out, Agne is in charge of both our complexes.

Afterwards we the party died down we thought we'd go to a bar. We decided on My Office since I had never been there. So the remaining partiers relocated. When we arrived a man at the bar approached me and asked if I lived in Valley View? He did too and said he had recognized my van. I told him I was with some people but that I’d catch up with him later. So we went and got a drink and found a table. After all the Winter Olympics and vet shop talk I could stand I went and found the guy that approached me earlier. He too was more than a little anxious to vent about how much of a slacker Agne is. I just hope that one day some one will be searching Google for “apartments” in “Pullman, WA", find this post and heed the following.

WARNING: If you’re moving to Pullman, WA avoid Valley View Apartments or anything under Agne Elliots management at all costs!

As soon as Amanda got home on Friday morning from overnights she left again. This weekend she’s off to a veterinarian conference in Vegas. I’m thinking it’s more of an excuse to get together with past classmates considering she didn’t sign up for any lectures, but I’m sure that’s why they hold it in sin city.

To begin my guy’s weekend home alone I braved the six degree cold in my broken down old van to Safeway, our local mega-lo mart grocer. I knew with every stop I made the chance the door would refuse to work increased so one-stop shopping was a must. On the shopping list was two new releases Amanda would never watch, Doom and Saw II on DVD Widescreen, one large bag Lays Salt & Vinegar potato chips, one six pack Rolling Rock, and one hardpack Marlboro Lights. I don’t really smoke. I did when I was younger because it made me look cool, but once I got married my need to be cool diminished. So for me now smoking is reserved for social or special situations such as this.

Doom was eh. I mean I wasn’t expecting much, but it was so different from the video game that it couldn’t event warrant a watch for that reason. Its Doom. If you're not going to hell what's the point? Saw II however was very kewl. I’m not much of a horror film enthusiast. Super natural monsters just don’t do it for me. But Saw's sick and twisted realistic violence gets me squirming in my seat. I liked the first one even though the acting towards the end was so laughably bad it really ruined the effect. Saw II calls Saw and raises a former NKOTB.

There was a time when I was most involved in the managing and promoting of my best friend’s band that it wasn’t uncommon for me to go to upwards of ten shows a month. It was a job necessity. To break into any scene you have to be seen. Want to play a place you have to go to shows there. Get to know the bouncer. Get to know the sound guy. Get to know the bartender and always tip well. Eventually you’ll get to know the booker if he happens not to be one of the aforementioned individuals. If all else fails ask the band playing. For the price of a beer or their latest CD you’ll probably get the name and number of the person you seek. Plus having a band to swap shows with will lead to even more booker’s digits and connections. But you’re not paying me to manage you so bugger off struggling musicians and let me get to the point of my post.

Pullman is anything but a Mecca for local music. A few of the bars have live bands on the weekend, but they’re usually nothing more than a living jukebox. So we were thrilled to discover a place offering original live talent. Well the talent part is questionable, but original. Except for all the Dave Matthews bluegrass shite, but live, most definitely live. John’s Alley is “Moscow’s Home of Live Music” or at least that’s what the header on their web site trumpets them as being. Have you heard of anyone who’s played there? Probably not, but that makes it even more of a hot spot for locals looking to find that awesome band no one has ever heard but themselves. Alcohol prices ain’t too shabby, but I always cringe at having to pay a ten dollar cover for a band I never have and never will hear from again.

Saturday night was unfortunately D.M. bluegrass defecation from the asses of The Clumsy Lovers. By no means is bluegrass my bag let alone freaking pop bluegrass, but that’s not to say I hate all of it. I’ve been known to tap my foot to a the closing credit ditties of Deadwood from time to time. I suppose I’ve been to too many small town fairs with nasty ole bearded fatties hooting and hollering as they strum away on banjos and one string stand up bass. One thing I could never stand was to see a filthy, dirty old drunkie, howling away at the filthy songs of his fathers and going blerp, blerp in between, as it might be a filthy old orchestra in his stinking rotten guts (20 cool points for being able to place the origin of this run on sentence...ah ah ah, without using Google). Amanda loved it however. This led our friend Heather and I to conclude she was a little judgment impaired and that it was time to go home.

Not much has happened this week. Since we got home from Portland I’ve really thought of nothing but the van situation. I’ll never be able to reminisce without having one memory in particular come to mind. It was late summer of ‘96. We were returning from our Saturday college algebra class. Three types of people take college algebra on Saturday mornings; those who flunked the first time, those working adults who have no other time, and high school overachievers seeking duel credit. I missed my turn so continued along the road I was on which took me on a zigzag route of back roads. Exuberated to have finally found the correct road once again I slammed down on the accelerator and turned left onto the road. The tension on the gas control has a bit of resistance when pressure is first applied but then gives. To combat this and prevent creeping out into a street like an elderly driver I slam down on the gas handle, something I have gotten better at with time. This time it was too sharp a turn at too quick a pace because the next thing I know the driver seat which wasn’t properly latched had turned around to the transfer position and I was now facing T.J. who had turned to face me before both turning in unison towards the windshield and yelling, “ShiiiIT!” I have a snapshot in my mind of this moment before impact staring down upon the approaching ground just feet from the bumper.

We hit bumper first and instead of flipping violently bounced twice out into the field before stopping. My entire body was tingling. I suppose that’s what shock feels like. “Are you OK?”, T.J. asked. I looked up at him from the floor board space between the driver and the passenger seat, “Yeah.” Then it occurred to me, “The CD player didn’t even skip.” We agreed first to go were the stack of ash trays from Hardee’s that perfectly fit the backseat cup holders. Here we were in just in the worst accident of our lives and our main concern was hiding our smoking. We were then going to brush ourselves off, drive our way out of the field and go to the nearest carwash. That was the plan anyway until a concerned passerby in his pickup truck stopped to help us and I began to feel faint. I suppose I did since the next thing I know I’m sweating in a pickup truck that smells of the wet dogs the man had moved to the bed of the truck and the homemade beef jerky roasting in the sun on the dashboard. I closed my eyes and tried to breathe as little as possible. When I opened my eyes again I was on a stiff couch in a strange house. My vision was spotty, like when you rub your eyes really hard, and I could have sworn the whole house of void of any color. I looked up and saw silhouette of mom in the doorway.

It wasn’t until I reached the hospital that I started feeling this intense pain in my stomach. The orange juice laced with iodine wasn’t much help. Though the juice was room temperature the iodine felt like ice as it traveled down my esophagus and settled in my stomach. Then I noticed it wasn’t my stomach that was hurting it was my entire abdomen. Later seeing the huge dent I had left in the steering wheel there was no wonder I was in pain. Luckily x-rays showed no problems and I was released to a very concerned and angry mother. T.J.’s mom trying to lighten my mother’s mood mentioned how it was scary now, but one day we’d be able to look back on it differently.

The next day I awoke with more stiffness and soreness than I had ever felt. I called T to see how he was doing. He was also not wearing his seatbelt and had hit his head pretty good against the roof of the van just above the windshield. He was fine other than maybe a bump and some tenderness. “Dude, we could have died.”, he remarked. “Yeah, but we lived the Duke’s of Hazard dream.”

Two straight weekends in Pullman and we’re already wanting to get the hell out of here again. I needed to start looking at options for replacing the van so it was a perfect excuse to take off for Portland. Marcus and Mary were nice enough to put us up even though they both had to work. Amanda just got off of overnights so again I drove while she napped. I was proud to have made it all the way to their house from memory, despite taking the wrong exit. When we arrived Amanda presented our hostess with some gifts we had brought. We had purchased a hunk of Cougar Gold cheese from the WSU Creamery, which is a sharp white cheddar that’s very well known in the northwest region. And what’s cheese without a nice bottle of wine? Amanda and her vet tendencies had chosen a bottle of Three Legged Red. Unfortunately she hadn’t read the story of the pup the wine was named for something Mary did as soon as she picked it up. It talked about how the creator of the wine saved a puppy that was being attacked by a ferocious pit bull; a breed Marcus and Mary just happen to own.

For dinner, one of our favorite parts of coming to Portland, we went to an Ethiopian restaurant. Amanda and Mary expressed surprise at my willingness to go along. I don’t know why. Amanda said I’m picky about certain foods, but when I asked, “Like what?” she didn’t offer an answer. I don’t like everything I eat, no, but who does? Some people will never let you forget you came from a small hick town and enjoy applying that role to you when with their fellow “big city folk”. If anything I think it’s fair to say it's Amanda who could be considered the picky one since her vegetarian self refuses to eat over 90% of the items on most menus. It's interesting that the two ethnic restaurants we’ve ate at in Portland have been in the bottom floor of houses. Even more interesting was the food which was similar to Indian cuisine although it was served on this strange spongy bread that your were expected to rip and use as an edible utensil. Despite it's appearance my dish, the Lamb Curry with Collared Greens, was delicious.

The next day we were on our own. We first went and looked at vans then headed downtown for a bite to eat. I can’t remember the name of the place but it was some Greek restaurant with a purple octopus theme. I had this juicy Swordfish steak with an amazing spice but we could never figure out what it was. With full stomachs we headed to Pioneer Place. This mall is huge and spreads across four city blocks with sky & underground walkways joining the four story tall buildings. It was a little overwhelming to explore. After grabbing “We ♥ Katamari” for PS2 we headed back towards Marcus & Mary’s. That night they took us to the Rogue Brewery. We each got a sampler of six different beers mine contained the darkest porters available. If it’s not Heineken or the cheaper alternative Rolling Rock for me its got to be a porter or stout. Of many beers I tried that night the one that would have to be my most highly recommended is the Mocha Porter.

I regret to inform you that I have most unfortunate news about a dear friend of mine and I know an acquaintance of more than a few of yours as well. The van is on its last tread. While it manages to keep driving on the conversion part has about a seventy-five percent fail rate making it for me virtually undrivable. Less than a month after dropping two grand on getting the ramp and door fixed the ramp and door stopped working. So once again I found myself driving a hundred miles to the closest authorized dealer in Spokane.

After an hour with the van the mechanic came out to the front show room of the mobility store carrying something. He said, “From what I can see so far it’ll be $3,000, but” His demeanor changed as he raised his eyes to look at mine before continuing, “I have a feeling if I start taking it apart to do the repairs I’m gonna find a whole lot more.” He held up the bolt for me to see it was nearly rusted in half. “I went ahead and replaced this. The whole underneath is almost as rusted out. Anything I would do to it would be a band-aid and you’d be back in maybe a month or the next time you bottom out. If you do choose to go ahead with the repairs I need to let you know I can’t guarantee any of the repairs. Sorry, but I thought it best to let you know the situation.” Without hesitation I said, “No, I appreciate it. Can you just bring the van around then?”

We knew the day was coming when it would no longer be worth resuscitating the van. Still I felt bad that the van was already one wheel in the scrap yard after only a decade. In all fairness I was a sixteen and a half year old handicap male who was beginning to drive for the first time ever. Not that I’m totally guilt free. I didn’t always use the best judgement. Once I got stuck driving through the creek to Amanda’s parent’s house and water rose about a foot inside the van before Triple A pulled me out. There was also that time T.J. Sharley and I pulled a Duke’s of Hazard off a ten foot drop off into some farmer’s field pushing the body two inches back off the frame. Oh and I rear-ended two different people but unfortunately involved the same traffic cop. Let’s face it I’m not that great of a driver, but I have a range and it just took me a while to figure that range out. And I’d like to think I’m a little older and wiser and feel I have learned the importance of propper maintenance and regular tune ups. I also couldn’t help but feel some relief to be through with the van and its passenger side door that has to be opened just right and the open door sensor that dings then locks the doors every time you hit a bump in the road and the damn radio when it only gets AM and…

I lost my phone over Thanksgiving. Well misplaced is more like it. It was my second phone within a year. After Amanda washed my first free basic model that never got a signal nor had any functionality what so ever I decided to upgrade. And being the game enthusiast I am I decided to go with the taco of cell phones, the Nokia N-GAGE. You may have heard the phrase “sidetalkin” which sprung from the awkward way you spoke into the first model. Mine is the second, the N-GAGE QD, which was released mere months after the first. Apparently the geniuses at Nokia forgot to do any product testing with the first. I was hesitant to buy a replacement. I had this one all personalized and set to my liking and had a gig memory card inside with my NES emulator and games. I just wasn’t ready to accept it was gone. I’m glad I held out. Earlier this week I received a message from Amanda’s brother that my phone had been found and that he would mailing it to me this week.

I am so tired of the mid television season hump. Some shows have barely aired 5 new episodes and already we’re repeating. What the hell is that? I suppose now is as good a time as any for a halftime report.

Down but not out, Arrested Development is cancelled. But there looks to be life after death for this underappreciated series on Showtime or HBO, either of which’s audiences would probably be a better fit. Apparently Fox’s programming schedule is too cluttered with what all eight of its original shows currently airing? Let’s see, seven days in a week, three hours of primetime a day, yeah eight should cover it. Maybe winning an Emmys is too much pressure for Fox.

Curb Your Enthusiasm I’ve sadly been missing. Just haven’t been able to catch an episode. But since HBO has fully embraced the DVD market with average turn around time less than a year I plan on giving them a rent as soon as they’re released.

Well, the secret behind the hatch door was totally worth the cliff hanger. A wigged out marooned and isolated marathon runner who has to push a button every 100 minutes or else the world may end; now that’s good writing. It is a bit annoying when they avoid story progression by redoing the same episode as last week’s from a different perspective, but I suppose its all part of the tension building. The addition of the tail section survivors was the biggest wild card thus far. The hot head with a gun, the bitch you love to hate, Ana Lucia was a much needed addition once bad boy Sawyer started becoming a bit too likable. Now let’s keep her that way.

And coming in first by a mace impalement downward through the upper abdomen is Rome! This show has replaced Deadwood atop my list of favorite shows. Oh the violence the glorious, glorious violence. Not only that but lesbianism and incest. It’s all so Shakespeare meets, well, HBO. I am disappointed that all we get of the large scale historical battles are the preparation then a fast forwarding to the aftermath. I guess HBO wasn’t willing to take that big of a financial risk the first time around. Hopefully with the second season they drop a bit more into the budget. That’s not to say the first season is any worse for the lack financing for what could have been this huge historical epic. It’s still a great show with very authentic feeling sets and costumes. There are no names you’d probably recognize among the crew, but every actor gives stellar performance and seem like the characters they portray were written by history just for them. I am saddened that all 12 episodes of the first season have aired and the second season won’t begin until 2007. That's gives Deadwood 2006 to reclaim the top spot on my list and at least I can rewatch episode 11, The Spoils, over and over till then. “Thirteenth! Thirteenth!” That moment never fails to give me chills.

So any time we would ask what people do in Pullman for New Year’s they would just laugh. Not too much I take it. Spokane has a First Night celebration but no one wants to drive an hour and a half to drink and see some fireworks just to have to turn around and drive back. Plus Amanda was scheduled to work the next day so we weren’t planning on staying out too late. The Tennesse intern’s boyfriend, Poo Poo (yes, a grown woman really refers to a grown man by this name), was in town so we went with them and the San Diego intern, Benji, to the Red Door in Moscow. The Red Door is the place to eat. It’s the one place with any type of culture and fine cuisine within the whole region. Luckily we had called ahead and made reservations because they were crowded. Unluckily our table wasn’t ready so we sat down at the bar to have a drink while we waited. After fifteen minutes I stared hard enough at a waiter to get his attention. We decided to split a bottle of Chimay, Red Label, having only had enough over Christmas to make us crave more. We were seated at a table barely big enough for four almost forty-five minutes late. Our waitress was a bit of a mess more than likely due to the New Year’s Eve rush and under staffing. She came to take our order then realized she had forgotten a pen and excused herself. Ten minutes later I found myself quipping, “She have to go to Office Depot for that pen?”, just as she returned. She took our order and brought some bread and one tea saucer of dipping oil for the five of us to share. An hour later, still no food, not even our salads. We had places to go, people to see, drinks to consume. Our waitress finally came to apologize and ask if we wanted something else to drink. Both I and Heather replied, “Yes”. The waitress just walked away leaving us both too stare at each other dumbfounded before bursting out in laughter. Hearing the laughter she realized her error and returned red faced. It was the longest dinner I have ever had lasting two and a half hours and that's with us boxing most of our entrees. I think it really speaks highly of the food to say that I still wouldn’t think twice about going back.

Washing down a plate of crab and prawn stuffed mushrooms in garlic wine sauce with a swig of Chimay we sat back in our chairs contempt with our decision not to go home for the holidays. We had found a small wine bar and restaurant a few blocks from our hotel oh so originally named the Wine Cellar. It was actually quite similar to an establishment in Columbia with the same name although this Wine Cellar boasted a three piece jazz ensemble playing Christmas tunes. The rest of the meal was as wonderful as the precursor; spinach salad with raspberry vinaigrette and candied almonds followed by baked mustard ginger salmon with saffron rice. With bellies full we headed back to our resort hoping that next year we would be able to convince the rest of our family to join us somewhere other than South East Missouri for the holidays.

The next morning we got up around ten or so which was just enough time for Amanda to make it to her spa treatment and message. Afterwards we again took a stroll downtown for a bite to eat. I forget the name of the place but it was considerably less exciting than the atmosphere of the previous evening although I did have the best turkey sandwich ever; smoked turkey with avocado mayo on focaccia bread (mmmm focaccia). After lunch we figured we had just enough time to go see King Kong before our cruise. The movie phone line said two but when we arrived at the scheduled show time we were a bit put off to discover that it was actually two-thirty and much more put off to find that the price for a matinee was seven bucks a person. The cinema was an interesting departure from the standard grandiose sprawl of most newer theaters. I suppose the purpose is more screens for more show times since the room was small seating maybe a hundred patrons if that. Since we were now thirty minutes early we had plenty of time to enjoy the pre-previews advertisements. Instead of static screenshot slide shows accompanied by muzak we were subjected to full motion video commercials presented in an entertainment tonight format so that they could take breaks from their commercial-like insights for the latest DVD releases for even more commercials. If this is the direction all theaters are headed towards all the more reason to invest in personal home theaters.

We got out of the movie with all of fifteen minutes to make it back to our hotel and down to the dock. We rushed back to find all of the handicap parking spots taken by illegally parked vehicles. Every time I am faced with this inconvenience I get this over whelming urge to ram my scooter into the side of the vehicle. I have contemplated carrying a knife for the sole purpose of slashing the tires of vehicles found in such a position both for the expense and inconvenience. If caught I would present them with the option of calling the cops on me at which time they would have to pay a five hundred dollar fine or they could simply buy new tires themselves as penance. Despite the inconsiderate bastards we did make the boat.

The cruise was a bit chilly, but offered a great view of the thousands of Christmas lights reflecting off the lake. In a short while we arrived at our destination, Santa’s workshop, which strangely smelled like fish. He began reading off the common first names of all the good boys and girls supposedly in attendance while oddly omitting Christopher or even Chris. After leading the crowd in a chorus of Jingle Bells the “elves” made it snow soapy foam. By the time we got back we were cold and hungry so we headed to the closest sushi restaurant for some meso soup and hot tea. It wasn’t the best sushi we’ve had, but better than that which is available in Pullman which is none. I haven’t had a single sushi dish I disliked until I tried the sea urchin which looked like something Cringer could have coughed up. Tired and full we decided to turn in early, so we returned to our hotel and fell asleep watching 24 hours of A Christmas Story on TBS.

On our way home on Sunday we stopped off at the Cour d’Alene Casino. We wanted to go in and lay a single bet on red 25 (“Come on baby Jesus!”) but disappointingly there were no roulette tables. In fact there were no tables of any kind only electronic change consumers with old people attached to them, lots and lots of old people. We pumped in 10 dollars between the two of us in about 30 minutes before deciding we had had enough of that experience and left. That evening we went to one of Amanda’s coworker’s house for a White Elephant party and traditional Christmas feast. Maybe it was all the good food we had had that weekend already, but I had a considerable amount of trouble getting most of it down. It was horrible. I don’t know what our host had done, but some how she managed to make even sweet potatoes bitter and toxic tasting.

Tis the season for last minute holiday shopping and double murder homicides apparently. Earlier this week the residents of Pullman were sent into a panic when the evening news reported three dead bodies were found in a local apartment complex and neglected to mention the murderer's suicide. That's some responsible news work there. Scarier than that was the fact that Christmas was a little over a week away and I had so far bought zero gifts. Never have I waited so long and I was feeling the pressure. If our presents were to arrive before Christmas we needed to purchase, wrap and mail them in three days.

For our first attempt at shopping we headed to Lewiston, ID since they have a mall and decent selection of department stores. Unfortunately the mall was a total let down. We pretty much walked in and out in under a minute. After coming up empty handed from every store we went to we decided to head home and try again on Saturday at Moscow. The trip wasn’t a total loss. We got to see Lewiston’s over done light display which made the park look like a rainbow had thrown up. Unfortunately Amanda forgot to put her memory card back in her camera. The next day was much more productive. Within 30 minutes of arriving at the Palouse Mall I had all my Christmas shopping done. The annoying commercials are right. Palouse Mall, they know what you want and they got it!

This will be the first year neither Amanda nor I will be heading home for the holidays. Usually we visit my family then head to Jackson to be with Amanda’s family on Christmas. It had become a tradition with Amanda’s family to do a secret Santa gift exchange, but unlike the usual secret Santa protocol the gift is to be accompanied by a poem written and recited by the gift giver. Being over eighteen hundred miles away presented a problem, but nothing a digital camera and Google Video couldn’t solve. So without further ado here are Amanda and my secret Santa poems.

It finally stopped snowing. Finally! I still haven’t been out since it has turned so cold after snowing the first time. Though, the maintenance guy did come to our apartment to replace the weather stripping on the door the other day and had the door open while he worked, so at least for that hour it felt like I was outside. For some reason he exchanged the facing of the door frame on the outside of our apartment with the facing on the inside of our food pantry??? I don’t know why the hell, but he did. And now there’s weather stripping and no draft so who’s to complain? Well… I am because now we can’t lock our door anymore.

Over Thanksgiving I saw a commercial for System of a Down’s new album Hypnotize. I’ve enjoyed their past albums especially their self titled debut and last album so when I got home I downlo-err I mean, bought their latest. It is a little modern rockish, but evolved and it manages not to take itself too seriously. It takes a couple of listens before it settles in but even the title track which I hated in the commercial sticks in my head now. There’s really nothing to make me say, “ZOMG!!! You have to get this right now!”, just 30 minutes of the standard affair. My current favorites in ascending order are Hypnotize, Tentative and Lonely Day only because I like when Daron Malakian sings lead. Definitely not as good as the previous effort but I’d say its par for the band.

When I heard Peter Jackson’s next project was going to be a remake of King Kong I was dumbfounded. I couldn’t see what the appeal would be in remaking this already remade classic. I don’t have anything against remakes as long as the original warrants a remake and the remake improves upon the original in a significant way. I just was never really a fan of King Kong. So I had reserved it to being a rental at best. With the LOTR Trilogy Jackson showed me fantasy movies didn’t have to be melodrama in front of a green screen (I’m looking at you Mr. Lucas), but could some how seem tangible again. Despite this he still didn’t have me convinced. Then the King Kong preview trailer was leaked to the internet. I can’t pin point the moment, but somewhere probably around the time Kong dives and swoops up Ann just before the T-Rex’s mouth closes around her and the boat captain is running through the jungle with a Tommy Gun blasting away at raptors my eyes widened and hairs stood on end and I reverted to a thirteen year old boy. Right off I was reminded of and thought none of The Jurassic Parks ever looked as good as this. I am concerned about Jack Black, but we’ll see.

Monday: It snowed last night. Not much, but enough to cover everything before melting at noon. Later that afternoon I went to the kitchen to start dinner and noticed it was snowing again. It snowed steadily until the early evening dropping almost eight inches.

Tuesday: No more snow overnight. The snow we had began to melt as soon as the sun came out. Throughout the day I kept looking out the window half-way expecting it to be snowing but it never did.

Wednesday: Still no more snow this morning so I assumed we had received all we were going to get. I was wrong. Sometime during the afternoon the wheather changes to blizzard like conditions outside. Everything is once again covered in about six inches of fresh snow including the eight inches of old snow that had never melted on top of the van.

Thursday, The First Day Of December: Amanda comes home from her overnight and tells me it's snowing. I can't beleive we're having so much snow. When we asked they always told us, "Nah, it's not that much snow.". I began to become very suspicious of "they" as it snows most of the day.

Friday: For the second day in a row I wake up to find it snowing. It snows all day and night. I'm impressed with how the snow levels in front of our apartment aren't so bad due to the amount of foot traffic. But the snow on top of the van is a testament to the amount of snow that has fallen. I expect it to move through overnite.

Saturday: It's still freaking snowing. The landscape now blends seemlessly with the white sky. That is when you can see the landscape and sky through all the falling snow. Amanda decided she wanted to bundle up and take a stroll through the falling snow and ended up getting hit by the worst of it on the way home. Later that afternoon when it had all but stopped Amanda went to get groceries and had to have an older woman push her car out of it's spot when all it would do is just sit and spin.

Sunday: It's officially a winter wonderland. Tree branches are wieghted down. The hill across the street shows signs of sled tracks despite it leading to the street. And the sound of spinning tires can be heard from time to time. With snow expected tonight and tomorrow I don't expect any of this will change anytime soon. My goal is to have the van totally covered by snow at some point.

Five-Thirty Monday morning I got up, got dressed, got in the van and drove to Spokane. I wanted to get to Golden Gate Auto with enough time for them to finish before lunch. I couldn't remember either of the two street names required to get there. I never seem to remember street names as often as I remember what the turn looks like. Its not quite as efficient, but none-the-less interesting while driving in the tail end of Spokane rush hour traffic.

I passed the first exit confident that it wasn't the first. Then I passed a familiar row of churches, gas stations and fast food restaurants. I'd been down the upcoming exit before so I knew it was not it. Then came the freeway sound blocking walls with the deadish-looking ivy "growing" on it. And then nothing. And more of nothing. And more and more and more of nothing. Had I missed it? I don't remember wh-there it is. After turning onto the bypass I knew from the quarter mile of curving I had found the right exit.

I drove around back to the garage entrance of the repair shop and pulled out my cell phone. An older man answered.
"Hello?"
"Yes, This is Chris Veatch. I have an appointment to have my van fixed. And I'm here and I need someone to meet me around back."
Pause.
"They're there."
Click.
I looked around at the empty back parking lot as I hit redial. The call hadn't even began to ring when two guys walked out of an alley and passed the van. The first walked to the garage door and shoved it open. Then the second followed him inside backwards, motionioning me in while a breakfast sandwich hung from his mouth.

It took three hours for them to fix the van. In that time I sat in the store front of the mobility auto place trying to read. I had took to reading when I was without internet or a computer. I bought “The Camel Club” by David Baldacci after seeing an interview with him on Good Morning America where he described it as "four hundred pages of nothing leading up to something".

I had been without a way to get around by myself for a while so now that I capable to do so again I wanted to get Amanda a Birthday gift. She rarely says she wants or needs anything so when she does I usually get it for her. She had grown more accustomed to having her own computer than I knew and had mentioned a few times how she missed it. She also tried unsuccessfully to find a replacement motherboard for her old laptop. So I went to Best Buy to pick out a laptop and to bitch them out for taking so long to change a power supply. Well to my most pleasant surprise it was fixed. Even better it was already back in. So I had the fruity looking clerk from the Geek Squad place my tower in the front seat floor board. I got Amanda a Compaq Presario. I didn’t intend to, but it was the best deal. It was funny though that I had gotten her the same type of laptop for her birthday seven years ago.

Back at home. Back online. Life is good. I spent most of the first few days downloading, updating and generally setting up both our computers. After they were running the latest software and both computers could see each other over the network I set back into the World of Warcraft. It sucked when my computer broke. No internet. No email. No blog. But probably the most distressing was knowing my gnome mage was only six levels away from the level cap. I was rejuvenated coming off of a month and a half break and returned expecting to find all my guild mates at level sixty ready to pvp and raid the toughest instances, but most were hovering around what I remembered them being at before. Come to find out two of them just had a kid together so they never came on, one was trying to save his marriage so he never came on anymore and the others just got bored. We had spent many hours questing together and had established a vocal chat server for better coordinated attacks. It’s sad to see our group dwindle and die, but such are online friendships.

I’ve sort of been a slacker this week. I traded a Nintendo Entertainment System with a new 72 pin connector and ten games for a Nintendo DS with a carrying case and five and a half games on GameTZ.com. The games are Asphalt: Urban GT, a racing game I haven’t played yet; Yoshi Touch & Go, a platformer where you use the stylus to draw lines of clouds to guide Yoshi around the stage collecting goodies and defeating baddies; Super Mario 64 DS, pretty much a remake of the N64 game with additional characters and mini games which controls lousy with the stylus; Metroid Prime Hunters Demo, a very cool preview of the first two levels of the upcoming WiFi multiplayer FPS; Feel The Magic XY/XX, a highly stylized collection of mini games from Sega put together to tell a wacky boy meets girl story; and last and most time consuming Nintendogs, Nintendo’s first true system seller for the DS. Nintendogs’s release marked the first week that the DS outsold the PSP. It’s Tamagotchi taken to the next level. You raise one to eight of twenty-six different breeds of dog by feeding, grooming, and training them to compete in three different competitions; Disc, Agility, and Obedience. All three are lots of fun but probably the most entertaining due to the use of the DS’s built in microphone is the obedience trials. By simply saying “sit” your dog will perform the action after you have taught it to him of course with some coercion from your stylus. It’s really lots of fun seeing what new things you can make your dog do by combining commands. For instance having your dog “roll over” then telling him to “turn around” performs a break dance type maneuver and if you follow that with a “jump” command he'll do a kung fu style recovery flip to his feet. And what would dog ownership be without embarrassing accessories like Mario or Pirate hats to dress them up in? There’s over a hundred items that can be purchased or found on walks with your dogs. Oh and the walking, did I mention you get to bag virtual dog poop? What more could you ask for from a game?

During breaks from the DS; that stylus can really cause your hand to cramp; I began unpacking the rest of my games being sure to watch for spiders and other such things that may have crawled into the boxes while being stored in a garage for the past six months. Cringer and Ramona didn’t make this task any easier by jumping in each box as soon as it was opened. I’m going to have to do some major reorganizing to get everything to fit since I have a lot more stuff than I remembered. I’m not sure of the final numbers, but I do know I have over 350 NES games alone. I’ll post final tallies and some pictures when I get everything put away. In other gaming related news I still don’t have my computer. I called Best Buy to check on the status. They said they’ve tried two different power supplies and neither worked. I don’t know why in four weeks they’ve only managed to try two. And speaking of repairs taking forever the part for the van is still not in.

With Amanda’s birthday on Halloween it’s inevitable that we’ll be going to some costume party to celebrate so I mentioned to her last week that we probably should start getting our costumes together. Of course we still waited until the night before the party to even begin looking. By this time every department store in the area was picked over. Only a few nappy wigs, a couple of tubes of fake blood, and some dented plastic pumpkins remained. I had planned to go as an Orthodox Jew since all it would require is a hat with curly sideburns stapled to the brim. The suit and beard I already possessed. The only hat I could find though was more of an Amish style than Jewish so I improvised. Instead of a white button up shirt with black slacks and matching vest I shaved my mustache and wore a blue button up shirt with black slacks and suspenders. Total expense: $7 and a mustache.

Since we have dental insurance now I decided to make an appointment. I hadn’t been to the dentist in over 8 years and I knew I needed some work done. A year ago I was chewing some gum when I noticed something hard and gritty in the middle. It was the filling and corner portion of my first lower left molar. It was never sore or sensitive so I started chewing on the right side of my mouth and life continued as usual. Dr. Fred was amazed at the resiliance of the tooth repeatedly gouging it with his metal scraper and asking, “You’re sure this doesn’t hurt? ”. Besides the gaping hole in my tooth he found five small cavities and that my lower right wisdom tooth had grown past my upper roll of teeth, which wasn’t a problem since it was the only one that came in. He mumbled something about going ahead and removing it, but then neglected to list it on the estimate so I didn’t bother bringing it up.

After Amanda’s hair appointment and eye exam on Friday we left for Portland. I drove and she drank a pumpkin beer to help her sleep since she was just coming off overnights. The drive from Pullman to Oregon was fun. It was a curving, hilly, two lane road littered with farm equipment. The van doesn’t have the best acceleration so passing required precise timing. I would slow down to leave a few car lengths between myself and the slow moving road blocks and wait for oncoming traffic to reach a certain proximity before flooring it to allow the van enough time to reach 60 mph so that I could swoop around before reaching the next double yellow line. The road in Oregon was less hazardous but nonetheless thrilling. To the immediate south was the towering moss covered southern wall of the Columbia Gorge and to the north the Columbia River. Along the way were dams, forests, and waterfalls and in the distance Mount St. Helens.

Portland reminded me a lot of Seattle. A colleague of Amanda’s had told her, “it’s Seattle without the traffic”. During the day we went shopping at the downtown businesses and Portland Marketplace, which we likened to Columbia’s Art in the Park only bigger and much, much better. During the evening we enjoyed forays of the local ethnic eateries followed by drinks. Friday night I had possibly the best Tom Collins I had ever had at an über trendy bar who’s name escapes me at the moment. Our last night I had possibly the worse Tom Collins at the Portland Bar & Grill, but the view more than made up for it. The bar/restaurant was on the 30th floor of the tallest building in the city and offered an amazing view of Portland.

I was feeling a bit ill when we left so Amanda drove until we stopped at Taco Bell. You would think this would be terribly disappointing after the Greek and Indian cuisine we had been dining on the past few days, but even this was a bit of a treat since there are no Taco Bells where we live. I quickly woofed down a baha beef chalupa and hard shell beef taco and took over the wheel. A short distance down the road break lights began to shine as traffic slowly filed into the right lane. Once we reached the top of the hill we could see what was causing the delay. Three cars dented and scraped were strewn about the left side of the road. It must have been recent because as we passed the first vehicle we saw a paramedic performing CPR on a male in his twenties with two distraught looking males standing beside them. Further in the median was a body that had no attendee and was covered by a white sheet. At the end of all this in the middle of the left lane was a girl with a paramedic kneeled over her. They were surrounded by shards of glass and preceded by a trail off blood where it appeared she was thrown through the windshield of the SUV a few yards before her then struck the pavement and skidded to her current resting place. Amanda mentioned feeling like she was going to vomit. I was surprised to feel nothing at all.

It was already dark and didn’t take Amanda long to fall asleep leaving me with the accompaniment of static filled talk radio which would waver in and out with every peak and valley of the road. After an hour of anticipating my exit at road 385 I woke Amanda up to have her look at the atlas. The actual road, 395, I had passed about a half an hour earlier. We decided to be adventurous and take a straighter route through, according to the Krusty Clown College one of three funniest city names, Walla Walla. It may have been shorter, but definitely not faster. The road was winding with pitch black night on either side so I took it slow, but apparently not slow enough. After coming around turn 98 of the 500 or so curves of the road I saw four racoons. One raccoon had safely made it to the shoulder of the road. Two smaller raccoons were still running across the left side of the road. The forth was staring at me from the center of my lane. There was no time to break and not enough room to swerve so I tried to center the raccoon between the axels of the van for the slight chance I might clear it. No such luck. I heard and felt the ther-thump ther-thump as the raccoon bashed against the lowered floor of the van. “I just hope I killed it.”, I said. I had avoided birds, squirrels, possums, dogs, and cats. It was the first animal I’d ever hit. My stomach began to ache as I wondered which I had hit, the mother or the father and if it even mattered.

Special thanks to Doug Eddings, the home plate umpire for game 2 of the ALCS, for garnering support for my ESAU (Electronic Sensor Assisted Umpires) proposition. Boy, was that not a blunder and a half? Whether it touched the ground doesn't matter. What does matter is the wishy-washy indecisiveness of the home plate umpire for allowing the call to be changed after the inning was over. Let's say it did touch the ground and he called it strike three, but not out; there is no way in hell Pierzynski would have made it to first. I saw an interview with Eddings and surprise, surprise he stuck by the changed call. Not like he was going to change his mind on the call he initially didn't make. He pointed to a ball movement within the glove as prove it hit the dirt. Yeah, it couldn't be the ball settling into the webbing of the mitt, more likely it hit the ground without moving the dirt at all. But who are you going to believe; every sports commentator that only has the blown up slow-mode instant replay to go by or the umpire with everything to lose and the batter who benefited from the play? Anyway, speaking of bad home plate umpires, in game 1 of the NLCS Isringhausen could have rolled the ball across the plate for a strike. Every umpire has their zones, but you've got to be consistent. It looked like Tim McCClellan had to take a piss and wanted to hurry things up

Remember the crazy lady, Agne, from our apartment's office I told you about? Well, two weeks ago she posted a note on our door requesting that we pay $300 and neglected to mention the reason why we should pay this amount. I thought she had perhaps mistakenly taped it to the wrong door or made some error in her book keeping so I discarded the note. This week we got a second note that was a bit more descript claiming it was part of the sum of our monthly rent. It seemed odd that the check we had written would partially clear and partially bounce so I checked online and saw that the check had fully cleared. A bit annoyed, I took the note she had posted on the door and printed the cleared check upon it, wrote "PAYMENT MADE IN FULL!!!" at the top, and taped it to the office door. The following day while sitting in the living room I heard something at the door. I turned to see Agne speedily walking away. Before I could open the door to retrieve the note she was in her car and pulling out of the parking lot. The note stated the following: "Rent is due on the first of each month. When you moved in on the 19th you paid a full month's rent. The amount of $300 is what is still owed for the rest of this month's rent." Okay, first off as any faithful reader of this blog would know we moved in on the 15th. The 19th was the date the check I had printed on the note had cleared. Secondly, we've only been paying on the 15th because that's when she told us to make payments after inquiring why we had to pay the full amount for a half month to begin with. The next day Amanda wrote a check and slipped it into the deposit box along with a nasty note pointing out how immature she was being and how much easier the whole issue could have been resolved had she simply spoke with us in person.

You may have noticed the lack of photos with this entry. That’s because I am posting this from a computer at Amanda’s work. I’ll add them later, so if there are pictures rejoice in the knowledge that I am once again with computer and internet access at home. I am having the worst of luck with computers lately. On Tuesday Amanda's computer ceased to function. The computer guy we took it to said that the motherboard went bad; computer geek for it's "totaled". Before it died I managed to purchase our plane tickets for Thanksgiving. We'll be departing the evening of Friday, November 18th and arriving in Kansas City. Then our return flight will be from St. Louis on the morning of Friday, November 25th. Our itinerary for the time in-between will be something close to the following. Friday through Sunday we'll be in Columbia visiting friends and all the hotspots we once frequented. Then Monday morning we'll make for Campbell to visit with all three of my remaining immediate family before leaving on late Tuesday or early Wednesday. We'll then be in the Jackson/Cape Girardeau area enjoying the festivities with the in-laws until we leave early Friday morning. If you are going to be in the vicinity of any of these locals during the mentioned time periods and would like to request an audience with either Amanda or myself feel free to leave a comment, email, or call.