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Location: PDX, United States

Monday, December 18, 2006


My stretch of good luck with Portland came to an abrupt halt on Sunday when I discovered my wallet had been stolen from work. The timing of this theft couldn't have been worse, because I'm leaving for Vietnam in a few days and now won't have access to my debit card while I'm over there.

I've been in a pretty crappy mood because of this and all the hours I spent on the phone cancelling every card that was in my wallet. Today I decided to cheer myself up, and look on the bright side of things. What a great excuse to buy a new wallet. I decided to get a purse to go along with it.

I'm now if a much better mood than I was earlier, but the whole experience has made me even more ready to get out of town. I want to warm up, I am in need of relaxation and pampering, but mostly, I just really want to see my mom.


Friday, December 15, 2006


Last week, I was out at a pub, writing in my journal. A gentleman approached me and asked me if I was writing about him.

Guys, just in case you're wondering, this pick up line will never, ever work and all it does it make the guy who says it look like a stupid, self-centered asshole. I have a tendency to ultimately put a lot of guys into this category, and a line like this really speeds up the process.

Just three days later, the same thing happened again, and this time it was worse. I again had my journal with me, and was trying to get some writing done. The gentleman at the next table wouldn't stop talking to me. He wanted to know what I was writing about, and specifically, if it was about him. I told him no and continued writing. Ten minutes later, he asked me again if I'd written about him yet and I again told him no. He asked me what he could do to change that, and I told him nothing, that I wasn't feeling very social. By his third interruption, I was getting angry and decided to be more direct and told him to stop talking to me. He asked me what he was supposed to do during the commercials of the football game he was watching. I told him I didn't know, but that I was sure he could find some way to entertain himself that didn't involved bothering me. At this point, a server came into the room and asked the guy if he needed anything. He complained that I wouldn't talk to him, and stormed out of the room.

I am getting frustrated by this type of thing. It's made me wonder if I am somehow giving off signals I'm not even conscious of that make men I am repulsed by feel the need to talk to me. I am certain that I am way more complicated than what these guys are looking for, and it's made me want to take some action.

My co-worker K. has a little pink sign on a stick that says NO. She uses it during her storytimes with a particular book that repeats the word frequently. She holds up the sign to let the kids no when they can shout the word out along with her. I have been fantasizing about creating a similar sign for my personal use and taking it with me when I go out by myself. I could just hold it up whenever I see a disaster headed my way.