Pedestrian Crosswalk Rage

I was attempting to cross the road the other day, a busy, four lane high speed traffic road, at an intersection with a crosswalk but no traffic light. I waited patiently, in broad daylight at the crosswalk, as far out into the road as I could venture without getting nailed. Three lanes of traffic stopped for me to proceed, careful to not block the intersection. I looked both ways, then again. A car was approaching in the last lane that was not stopped. The vehicle was not an eighteen wheeler, and the roads bore no trace of snow, ice or anything that would compromise my safety. There was plenty of time to brake by the time I got there, so I went. Said car was not happy to be interrupted on his highspeed journey to wherever the hell he was going, so he honked. Angrily.

This was absolutely enraging. It was my turn. I had the right of way. "HEY!" I yelled and pointed, now completely stopped in front of the car. "Pedestrians have the right of way!" The driver probably couldn't hear me, on account of the windows being up. So he honked again. Angrily.

I did what any self-respecting green-friendly pedestrian would do- I looked into his eyes and flipped him off.

Happy Christmas and a Merry New Year

Christmas wasn't horrible! I laughed, listened, and smiled. My family didn't make me want to gouge my eyes out- my sister said it best when she declared that she might not dread next year. Maybe it was the multitude of movies, maybe it was the Muppet Christmas Carol, maybe it was my conscience, maybe it was the documentary, maybe it was Josh... but I didn't come home feeling empty.

These are big shoes for New Year's to fill.

O Tennenbaum

This is the Christmas tree that Josh and I cut down from the woods outside of Laura's parent's house. I think it's really something.

Christmas Movie Madness

Every year, for a few years now, I've been less than psyched that Christmas is coming. It's a holiday that lost it's magic for me along with my innocence, especially when I called my childhood best friend and she said she was dreading it, too. She was always the type of girl who had her own little tree- she had Christmas socks and plush Grinch toys. Forget the Advent calendar, at her house, the countdown started 24 hours after Halloween.

But now I'm an adult. I don't believe in Santa Claus, I don't make a wishlist. Instead, I fret over my checking account balance and hate receiving gifts because I'm always disappointed. I have to have two Christmases because my parents are divorced, unlike the first 15 year of my joyous, innocent little life. I try to brainstorm how to make a conversation with the family I haven't seen since last year. My bank statement indicates that last January I over drafted more than once. You're welcome, Bank of America. Even my first ever Eve of the Eve party ended poorly. Christmas is even worse when you're hung over.

This year things are different. I'm forcing myself to get in the holiday spirit, whether I like it or not. I'm literally watching as many Christmas movies as I possibly can, i.e. Christmas Movie Madness. I need to remember the joy of giving and selflessness, that this is a season of love and kindness not stress and sadness.

So far, I've seen You're A Mean One Mr. Grinch, Love Actually, Die Hard, Miracle on 34th Street and White Christmas. I'll let you know how it goes.

New York, New York!

I'm making sausage apple stuffing, in the oven, to bring to my mom's house tomorrow, where we will enjoy a Thanksgiving dinner much quieter than the one I had last week at Josh's family's friend's house.

There, Josh beat me at Taboo and I got hella pissed when he gloated. His ninety-something year old grandma told me about how she recently misunderstood her new granddaughter-in-law, and was under the impression that she spent five grand on a new picture frame. My name was mistaken twice, first Ingrid then Amy. I had the most delicious sweet potatoes ever, plus there was a twelve layer cake.

New York is a strange place. It's somehow both the greatest and worst place ever. I'm glad to know that in such a stress and anxiety ridden place there can still be kindness. Josh and I were sort of yelled at twice for walking, but then neither of us had exact change for the bus, but the driver let us on anyway. The food was excellent, but everywhere we went I felt underdressed. Even in the Peruvian place. Williamsburg seems like a very surreal place, with a lot of cool shit, but I'd rather relish in the quest of finding cool shit than have it handed to me on an expensive platter.

I'm thankful that New York exists, and is not too far away. I'm also thankful for being able to live in Portland and feel like I'm part of a community.