I'm not THAT tall...

What I'm laughing about today: the Tall Girl Triple Glance (TGTG), as presented to me by, oh, half of Portland on my walk home this afternoon. I would like to point out that I was only wearing 1" heels, which shouldn't even count. I mean, come on.

For those of you who aren't familiar, the TGTG goes like this:

1) General glance, with a quick look at my face... the height registers.
2) Quick, shameless glance at my shoes to check for some sort of platform... perhaps I'm standing on a box? Nope.
3) Back up to my face, this time with a clearly searching expression that is so very honestly, albeit not very subtly, trying to decide whether or not I'm really a girl. Thankfully, I usually get a smile if I catch them at this point.

Hilarious. I'm not sure why some days are TGTG days... usually, I'm at least wearing a serious heel and topping out at about 6'3".... but today, today I was just little old me, and TGTG they did. Good thing I'm not shy.

Thank you to the man on the bench who actually said to his dog: "Look, honey, that girl is so tall... isn't she lovely?" You, sir, are my hero of the day. And no, I don't play basketball.

love.

Let it Snow

I used to hate the snow.

As a child, most of my snow memories, though full of family and friends, are just cold and wet. I remember complaining about being out in the snow, whining about cold fingers and frozen toes, resenting my cumbersome snowy weather gear. I was a lousy snowboarder, a clumsy sledder, and almost always did a face plant at some point. I was self-conscious of runny mascara and hat-hair through middle school ski trips, and concerned about bulky ski pants in high school. I did a good job of pretending most of the time, but snow and I weren't connecting on any level.

Right now, in downtown Portland, there is an inch of perfect, powdery snow on the sidewalks, with four more predicted this weekend. It's unusual snow for this part of the NW, and it sends everyone scurrying, driving wildly, huddling indoors, locking the windows. It's the only thing on the news, the only thing anyone is talking about. It's a big deal, this snow.

This winter, I find myself craving the snow. Needing the snow. Out in the snow as everyone else is hiding and cuddling, I'm breathing in snowflakes. I'm not sure how I transitioned from a shorts-loving summer creature to someone who wishes for winter, but this snow is as lovely as it is shiver-inducing.

There is a perfection that comes only with snow, if you can shut your eyes to the dangerous roads and the school closures and the ice, there is an all-consuming silence, the muting of a world, an entire city, hushed and restful, contented, frozen, calm. This snow is transporting me to all of my best snow moments, the ones that remain tucked in my memory... the snowmen and tunnels and silent nights. This is a very Christmasy snow.

Merry Snow Day, everybody.

The Darker Days of Pollyanna

9-5-08
the man on couch corner wears his rings well
tightly clamped, he keeps them
around eyes i'll spare myself from meeting
as we pass
he is the last and first example
of what i may become in your absence
- resolve tucked snuggly in at the corners,
scars where opportunity no longer knocks -
to the dog, this man
with his layers of sweaters and regret
is a king
the prince of yesterday's garbage
the lord of all delightfully unholy things

again, not unlike you.

The city is a concentration of extremes: the rich with the poor, the sane with the lost, the very best and the very worst of what we are, or what we are capable of. Today I am witness to the clash of opposites... one man who fails to live up to my very smallest, most pessimistic hopes for humanity opposing another who far exceeds any strength or grace I am capable of. It's difficult to maintain perspective when moments like these occur... each man has his own story, neither of which I know. Each man has led a life that has steeled him for this confrontation, and who am I judge? Who am I to even have an opinion?

It's sad, though, plainly, to see someone rise above... someone who has faced ugliness so many unmentionable times that it is no longer worth acknowledging it. It's maturity, it's grace, it's the right thing to do, to rise above. But it sucks. It sucks that we have become the sort of jerks who make each other rise above our crap.
I wish we could see each other. We wander around so wrapped in our own egos we don't bother to connect, to notice, to care. How sad we are becoming.

You will walk past many people today. I hope you look them in the eye.

Chivalry is alive and well...

The walk from my store to my apartment takes approximately four action-packed minutes. Today, I passed a surly group of vagrants arguing about something or other. I have perfected my "I'm neither afraid of nor interested in you" city walk for just this sort of occasion, so I began it, and as I passed:

Scuzzy Dude A: You're a f***ing a-hole, B.

Scuzzy Dude B: Oh yeah, well f*** you, you ba*****.

At this point, Dude B notices me, turns, tips his hat, bows a little:

B: Pardon my language, m'am.

The woman who runs everywhere, well, less runs than scuttles, like a crab or maybe a squirrel, ran up behind me the other day. She yells, a talking-to-my-buddy-across-the-football-stadium yell: "I was on my way to Boise... Boise, Idaho. But I got off at Portland. But they told me to go to Boise. But I said hell no. I'd rather go to Girlsy. Girlsy, Idaho."

I love this city. :)