Category Archives: where i am

Anything having to do with where I live.

A secret all along, unless I’ve got this wrong

Another venture into the weirdos that briefly intrude on my daily life and ramble inside my head for weeks on end…

Sunday morning, I got up and felt sorry for Moose because he was out of his food–the food that was pimped by the vet, “Hill’s Science Diet”. So I drove around Eugene (because nothing in Cottage Grove opens before 11 on a Sunday), I hit up Hirons and a little garden story, both of which, I was assured that they would have the large breed puppy food–or so the dog food webpage falsely professed.

Eventually, I come to the Mini Pet-mart, on Willamette. I was extremely happy to see that not only did they have the food, but they also had it in the bulldozer-size bag, because my dog can munch through one of those smaller bags in an afternoon. I sling the food over my shoulder and slug it up to the front; I grab a rawhide for the ride home (for the dog). Once at the counter, I make small talk until this semi-sketchy (as many Eugene-folk are) sees my purchases and raises her finger and says to me, “y’know, Science Diet has by-products in it… there’s a lot more sensible choices that can be made.”

Now, I’m a pretty knowledgeable guy when it comes to by-products, I’m by-product conscious type of person. However, it wasn’t the statement that rattled in my head, rather, it was that I was being given social demerits due my dog food by-productness, while this lady is buying two packs of cigarettes (side note: why does a pet store have cigarettes… I guess that’s the “mini” in the “Mini Pet-mart”).

I wish I could have access to the security camera footage because I think I stood there with my mouth left hanging open sitting in there in the wind, due to the hypocrisy that was apparently in ample supply that morning. In my head I was saying, “You want to talk about by-products, I’d much rather crush up my dog’s food, get some rolling papers, and smoke a pack of that every day rather than the cigarettes you just bought.” Of course, I’m a lot more gutsy in my head than I am with my mouth, so I just remained standing there, stunned.

After I regained my functions, I said to the lady, “yeah. ok.” and paid for my stuff as the comment-lady did her methamphetamine shuffle out the door. As I’m signing the credit card receipt, I ended my Mini Pet-mart visit with, “Yeah, well, my dog happens to prefer the taste of byproduct-laden dog food.”

Truly, life would be without that extra special glimmer, if it weren’t these people.

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with your boxes in your car

What am I?Cottage Groveite? Cottage Grovian? Cottage Grover?

Either way… Jess and I are moved into our house in Cottage Grove. Well, I am moved into our house, Jess is helping out on her ranch until the wedding. Last night was my first official night in the new house. Not as creepy or weird as I thought it would be. Sometimes, I’m like a little kid who wakes up in a new surrounding and gets weirded out… but not this time.

While Jess and I did make a big dent in huge stack of boxes that sit where our kitchen table will be, we’ve still got a long way to go. Lately, I’ve been putting up horrendously expensive blinds… translation: I’ve been doing a lot of cursing at inanimate objects.

All that is left from my old apartment is to clean it up so Meg can take it over at the end of the month. Unfortunately, I don’t think a “once-over” with the wet/dry vac will suffice, so I’ll be cleaning in stages–beginning with procrastination, followed by denial. Yes, this is a twelve-step program, and no, none of them will actually help me clean.

I am really looking forward to the bachelor party in one week. I think it will be a tremendous amount of fun (and it better be for that price). I can’t wait for the lap of luxury, even if it is only for five hours (which means this luxury goes for about $500 an hour).

The wedding is, literally, two weeks away. Unbelievable. I’m not nervous or scared… more overwhelmed by the wealth of everything that needs to get done. In the end, I know that everything will turn out great, it will be nice to have one big congregation of everyone… of course, most of them will be Hansons, but it is the thought that counts.

House pictures (a.k.a., pile o’ boxes pictures) will be posted ’round about when the Internet gets in place (Wednesday-ish).

 

That’s some kind of dangerous

Safeco does not cover “Loss caused directly or indirectly by War, including the following and any consequence of the following:

a. undeclared war, civil war, insurrection, rebellion, or revolution;

b. warlike act by a military force or military personnel; or

c. destruction or seizure or use for military purpose.

Discharge of a nuclear weapon shall be deemed a warlike act even if accidental.”

I can’t decide if this is ridiculous or prudent. But either way, I am defintely sure that if the civil war breaks out again, Safeco is behind it to get out of insuring my house.

ps. Thankfully, if I am storing any grave markers in my house they will be covered up to $3,000. This means I won’t have to get more insurance for my tombstone collection.

walkin’ down a bone-dry river but the cool mirage runs true

It’s official, our offer on the house was accepted! We’re now thirty days away from owning a house!

I’ll light the fire, you put the flowers in the vase

I’ve recently come to the conclusions that despite the new job, graduation, planning and wedding, getting married, and a honeymoon–my life isn’t hectic enough. With that in mind, Jess and I had a lot of conversations about where we were going to be living next year. For the past two months we have been scouring newspapers and the internet for rental property, with nothing to show. What we often found was that the properties that we liked were going for about a grand (or more) a month for substandard homes.As I figured it, we could easily be paying a mortgage for that amount of money and thus began our search for a home to buy. After talking to many mortgage companies, a bunch of real estate agents, and looking at many different houses…

Jess and I put an offer on a house. We did this yesterday afternoon. It is a very cute, brand new home in Cottage Grove. Three bedroom, two full bath. I promise to put up pictures as soon as I can. This will effectively shorten my commute from a thirty minute drive to a ten minute bike ride.

Jess and I couldn’t be more excited. It will not only be nice to live together, but to be in a house where we can paint the walls and have a dog without someone making us pay for those privileges.

Hypothetically, the closing will take place before the wedding. More news to come, I’m sure.

 

 

first thing that I heard was a song outside my window and the traffic wrote the words

As of 4pm today, a little bit of Eugene passed away. A person everyone knew but not her story. Hatoon was the lady we all had different nicknames for, “the lady who sleeps in the library,” “that crazy bag lady,” “that lady who was talking to herself,” you know how it goes. From what I heard she was struck by a car at Franklin and Onyx, along side campus. I am certain that most people had made a handful of jokes, I know I am guilty of it–I think it would have been astoundingly interesting to know who she was, maybe with time, we will. Well, here’s to a person that we never gave much thought to, but will always tie into being on campus. With Frog and the Trust Jesus Bike guy–the weird, the strange, and the uncomfortable… it’s all a piece of the same Eugene memory.

I think I’m dumb… maybe just happy

Well, it’s official, the state of Oregon has entrusted me with the fragile, sponge-like minds of tomorrow’s generations. As of today, I am an officially licensed teacher. Scary, ain’t it?Eugene Moment:
While waiting to see John Edwards on Campus, this guy walks up in front of me, wearing a dark green sweatpants, with a light green sweatshirt wrapped around his waste, topped off with sandals and socks. After two minutes, he turns to me and asks why I’m at the rally. I said, to hear John Edwards. He says, “hmmm. ok ok. hmm.” turns back around, tapping all ten of his finders on his jaw. At this point, I knew this was going to be another memorable interaction. Thirty seconds later, he turns around and asks, “so… you support this guy.” I said that I do. He said, “oh, ok… support him, support him.” This is the mode of conversation for the next fifteen minutes, ranging in topics from my degree (he was repeated tens of times that I was in my second year of grad school) and to my family. He correctly discerned that I was originally from Oregon–to which he repeated in a Rainman-ish way, “definitely not from Germany”… thought, I assure you, this man was not Autistic. Eventually, he was trying to figure out what I was going to school for, he said, “I’m just trying… trying… to…” I chimed in, “compute?” He lit up, “Ah ha! Are you a Bill Gates?” and added, “don’t worry, I’m not the CIA, but I like puzzles.” I made the mistake of saying that I would hope that I was more of an enigma–which sent him on more of a World War II, Deutschland rant.

Luckily Meagan showed up and I had a good reason to move away from “Michael” which he openly said was a pseudonym, stating that I should think of his last name as “Anonymous”.

I’m really going to miss this town.

 

We raced up and down the sidewalk twenty thousand million times

Result of driving around Eugene today:

There is nothing more “sketchy” than a guy wearing only unevenly cut camo pants, smoking two cigarettes while riding an old-school bike (a girl’s bike none-the-less) that has a basket on the front.

love this town.