The house front is moving more slowly than I'd like -- it's looking like we won't move in until next weekend at the earliest. Frustrating. I'm sick of making excuses as to why I'm not moved in already and I'm growing weary of the long-term houseguest situation.

In less whiny news, I get to see the New Pornographers tonight! I've had my ticket for about three months now -- can we say mailing list? The full line-up will evidently be playing -- Neko and Dan inclusive. Needless to say, I'll be at the front of the crush, dancing and screaming.

Fixed up my bike a little today. New stem and seat post -- the thing actually fits me now. The operation took a lot longer than I'd have liked. To the tune of an hour and a half longer, but I'm not terribly patient. Or adept with a wrench apparently. At any rate, it's taller and road-ready, if a bit in need of some tweaking.

Cafes in SE Portland have been conspiring to play music that will maximize my moodiness. The sudden cloudy turn has made it even more clear that not only does everything in this town (and the world?) revolve around me, but the whole operation is trying to make me grumpy. Not possible when a sweet, long-awaited concert is on the horizon, I'm afraid.

Last tidbit: a photo of mine has been published. See!

various.

The mistranslations in some of these documents I review at work can be pretty thought-provoking. Usually, the intent is preserved, but the wording is at a strange nexus of clarity and cumbersome-ness. For example, a mechanical device won't be quieter or reduce noise, it will endeavor to "improve silence." The idea of silence as a sliding scale, something that can be optimized, appeals to me in a weird way.

In more exciting, less navel-gazerly news, my roomies and I found a house and we'll hopefully move in this weekend. It's in southeast, right around the corner (literally -- less than a block) from where I'm staying now. My commute to work remains 10-15 minutes. The bars I like (and the E-room) are still comfortably close. Ahhh. Damn, it feels good to be a resident.

It occurred to me today that this is the first September 11th that has fallen on a Tuesday since the towers fell. This is not insignificant, at least not to me. That Tuesday, I worked at the Anchorage Daily News after school and saw a frenzied newsroom that I can't forget. That Tuesday was one of many tuesdays of my junior year of high school -- Tuesday was my favorite day of my favorite year of an otherwise middling-to-shitty episode of life.

This Tuesday is one of what will be one of many like others. I'm working my way toward a schedule again, and Tuesdays herald staff meetings instead of the best block schedule of the week (periods 1,2,4 and 5 -- human anatomy, pottery, drawing and AP European history -- sad that the only reason I remember this is because of the attacks.) At any rate, watching the protesters in Pioneer Courthouse Square while munching my leftovers got me thinking about watching that terrifying footage over and over in school, until I asked my history teacher to let me leave.

The catering gig (50 people, most of them trashed by 9:00) went off well. I've never poached so many goddamn pears in my life.

My job is difficult to get the hang of, since there are so many nit-picky details involved in filing patent applications. Who knew? Coworkers are super-cool, though, and I love my daily bike commute. I made a friend on the path on friday; we talked about shoes.

I missed Musicfest NW largely out of my own flakiness. Rilo Kiley is coming back soon, though, and Mirah plays on Wednesday (I think) so I'm happy to save my dough. Also: NEW PORNOGRAPHERS! SEPTEMBER 16! Somebody had better join me on this one.

Today is a lovely sunny day.

Posting will continue to be light until the weather turns. It's not that nothing is going on, rather, my interest in this blogamadoo wanes for the moment. work email can be given on request. It gets checked every other moment from 8:30-4:30 Mon-Fri. Sadly. Mrrh.