Yesterday was nice and convenient because Katie picked me up in the afternoon and she knew what she was doing. We went museuming which was lovely - we went to the Portland Art Museum to see the German Hesse exhibit along with some fun classical stuff (and by "Classical" I mean "fucking rad Roman/Greek shit") and then tromped over to OMSI to check out some nifty science-y stuff before it closed. I think we're going tonight to see Harry Potter on the IMAX and you only wish you were that cool to see it there as well.
And last night, although cooking makes me extremely nervous and jerky when other people will be ingesting my "creations," six people ate my lasagna-from-scratch and noone died.
Today, though, was a new and fun metroexperience. I mentioned yesterday that my babcock piercing fell out.
And I was pissed.
My lofty goal for today was to go to Lloyd Center and check out their body jewelry. If need be, I would *cringediealittlecringe* buy some from Hot Topic, but I was hoping not to resort to that.
After fighting with trimet.org for a little bit, I decided to make my way to the bus stop (of which there are four on one intersection). It went fine and dandy and the Portland bus drivers really must be commended for their excellent service and just general friendly helpfulness. Each time I've ridden it, they've been so nice and helpful.
Unfortunately I had a layover today. I stood there in the below 30 F freezing ass clear day weather with a few other people. I'm usually a nice person, so I've been known to make eye contact with strangers and smile and whatnot. I've discovered that's kind of a no-no here, which I find weird but whatever. This Hispanic gentleman starts talking to me. It was loud, and I couldn't understand him, so I just smiled and nodded and picked out what he was saying over his thick accent. Something about a dog and a step son and I have his eyes and what was my name? and how old am I? 25? (So I lied) Oh, you're old enough and legal and...that's when my bus arrived and I just stopped listening to him altogether as I boarded the bus (and he, fortunately, did not).
I just am not used to random, creepy old men (or young ones, like the one at Lloyd Center who cat call whistled to me today) trying to get my attention or just being dicks. And when it DOES happen, I'm the asshole and tell them to fuck off, which I think when I'm alone in not my own city and Andy's at work, that might be a BAD idea.
But I got my babcock fixed and then I, annoyed that I couldn't find the bus stop I needed, went to Safeway and then finally broke down and called a cab.
Pretty much the whole thing is amusing and I'm just not cut out for the city, no matter how pretty it is. And I know that Portland isn't even that big, although to a girl from CB, it's ginormous. the end.