Job

Working five hours a week at minimum wage doesn't really work out so well anymore. Before I became a real person (i.e. turned 21), it was fine because there was nowhere to go in Spokane, and (more importantly) I had no one to go with. Because I was antisocial and minorly depressed. But anyway, moving on, $75 bi-weekly is NOT ENOUGH.

I chose to deal with this problem by being harassing the sushi restaurant across the street until they gave me a job. It worked surprisingly well.

Surprisingly.

Although I am not Japanese, and I have never worked in a restaurant. But I do have a bangs. So there was at least one point in my favor.

Point Being: I have a job, and I make tips! Legally!

Seriously, though, I like it a lot, and it is full of people that I don't know very well yet, and I like that. And sometimes I get free sushi, and/or get bi-lingually hit on by the Chinese sushi chef.

I have also been asked to join a band and play my bass. Bass= +3 points.

Related: Have you ever been convinced that someone is gay, and then once you are around them for a length of time, you find out that they are not? It is disconcerting. First impressions= -5 points.

Neighbors

The people who live next door to my house have a giant truck that they park in our shared driveway. They also have a little, decorative bench on their baby-sized porch, and it is in constant use by the family. At various times during the day, one can see: a pubescent teenage girl, a middle-aged women, or (my personal favorite) an on-his-way-to-obesity man with a salt and pepper beard. Any one of these people can often be glimpsed sitting on the dainty white bench throughout the day, and either (A). talking on a cell phone or (B). staring. Both options are disconcerting to the viewer, but the staring wins by a teeny nudge of added uncomfortable.

This morning, some friends picked me up from my house, and Near Obese Man was occupying the bench doing (B).staring, and one of my friends asked me if he was a real person.

He was sitting very, very still.

During October, someone was giving hayrides up and down Ivanhoe. At first, I didn't believe that it was true, even though I heard the tractor rumbling past my window every half-hour, but then I peeked through my blinds, saw the hayride and took a picture of it for posterity.

Christmas Break Break-Down

This Christmas:

I fulfilled my eight-grade dream of buying a bass. It is from a pawn shop and cost me $100, case included. It is obviously very high quality. It has four strings, and it is dark purple and nicked-up (which is fine. It makes me look like I actually know how to play it...) Josh gave me a tiny purple guitar amp and a cord. I feel like I'm going to be an undiscovered bass-genius, and I'm pretty sure that it gives me at least 25% more sex appeal.

Lots of brunch. One of my favorite things about being in Portland is going out to breakfast excessively. Brunching-outing is in my top five list of All Time Favorite Activities. I had Sister-Brother Bonding Brunch, and Sister-Sister Bonding Brunch, and Sister-Sister-New-Sister-Talk-About-Upcoming Wedding Brunch, among others.

Christmas shopping with Josh. Every year since I was about thirteen, Josh and I have Christmas shopped together, and it is always a lovely, lovely time. Together, we find absolutely the best presents for everyone, and this year, I got to help him pick an engagement ring. So I was extra important.

Elf Vanity

Good Week

Spokane is snowy. So snowy that you have to dodge the clumps of snow falling of tree branches. Snowy enough for all my neighbors to be using their little snow-spitting machines to clear their driveways, and for Whitworth to have sent the baby snow plows all over campus.

I was going to take pictures and put them here, but everyone knows what snow looks like. Picture it now:

That's what Spokane looks like.

My house has a full-sized Christmas tree up, and the smell of it goes all the way up to room. It has approximately thirteen ornaments on it, and it is beautiful

Today I'm wearing a pair of jeans that I have not put on for over a month because I would afraid that they would be tight, but they're feeling just fine.

I have a pair of snow boots that make me look like I have dwarf legs. But they are warm. I can step in any drift and not feel a thing. Ha!

Something Wonderful

Here's something about Spokane: It's weird. It has weird places in it, places that you look at in total bemusement because they're just so odd. But wonderful. Odd and wonderful both.

Example: Ceragem (not sir-ag-emm. Sarah-gem)

Basic Premise: Thermal bed store

Reason For Weirdness: Too many to count... But let's try anyway.

Where to start? Hmmm... well... hmmm. Okay. I think that best description would be that Ceragem is like a 70's infomercial brought to life.

Let's unpack that.

First of all, it's on Division. Second of all, it is run by a Middle-Eastern European/Swedish/Lithuanian couple who are incredibly friendly. Third of all, this is what you do at Ceragem: you lay on this massaging bed thing for fifteen minutes while you listen to a testimonial video about Ceragem has changed people's lives. The bed looks like this, except that they put crackly, doctor's office paper on top of it to keep things sanitary. Like THIS:
As an added bonus, Ceragem has inspirational quotes painted in pastel blue letters on the walls. They also have a Swedish grandfather clock painted on the wall, but the face of the clock is not painted. IT'S REAL.(Swedish Grandfather Clock. Not painted)


Besides being almost literally the weirdest place ever, Ceragem delivers a great, free massage

Sometimes I love Spokane so much that I just want to give it a big, condescending hug.

I Act Like This Because I Like You So Hard

To Whom It May Concern:

First of all, thank you for taking the time to read this. It is very thoughtful of you, and I appreciate your input. It has recently come to my attention that my resting facial expression makes me look like I hate everybody. Or that I am sad. Really sad. Just to clarify, I am generally not sad. I am pretty happy a lot of the time. And I definitely don't hate you, unless you are legitimately, actually Satan (for purpose of discussion, let's assume that you are not. And if you are, why the f*&% are reading this?)

It has also come to my attention that I am mean to the opposite sex. So I apologize to you, Hypothetical Boy Who Is Reading This. I'm not actually mean; It's really that am afraid of you and of your YouTube references and every other form of boy-humor-that-I-don't-understand.

So Dear Reader, please accept this small token of my undying love and affection for you that remains strong, even if it seems to you that I literally cannot stand to be near you. I picked these especially because I know that they are your favorites.
Very Affectionately Yours,

Megan K. Porter