I finally decided to go to Cho’s Variety on Graham Ave that serves Stumptown Coffee. The coffee is perfect, but there are no tiny cokes in glass bottles and I wonder if the barista would cut up watermelon for me if I brought one in while dressed like a snow leopard hanging out with a zebra. (Then again, it’d be more like a member of the weasel family and a dinosaur ’cause we’re adults now).
More importantly, the place down the block that makes monuments for grave stones (like tombstones, giant angels, etc) has a sign that they now have fresh bread. There’s a rack of bread near the window in the store full of stone carvings and slabs.
Out of my group of friends in high school, Liz and I were the first to get our wisdom teeth pulled. Both of us were pretty special cases: I got knocked out by the anesthesiologist from the actual hospital and she somehow grew six wisdom teeth. K10 joked about our teeth hanging out together, and then the next day I drove to Liz’s house to borrow her wisdom teeth. Instead of going with Bailey to see Botch play with At the Drive-in, I spent the better part of a night taking this series of photos…
Picnic of Wisdom
Wisdom takes a holiday
Oh sweet wisdom!
Meet Joan of Arc, my favorite statue ever. Photo credit goes to Paul Em, who likes silly hats.
She sits in the middle of a traffic circle to commemorate the time Joan of Arc led the French army to defeat the English in Portland during World War I. Her flag got stolen a few years ago. K10 and I devised a plan to replace it with a pirate flag, but it was during the freedom fries period of history, so we didn’t it to come across as another form of anti-France. The next plan involved us getting a bunch of pinwheels and planting them in the ground, along with a sign that said, “We love Joan!” But apparently no stores sell pinwheels in September. Not even our favorite toy store, where we’d go in high school and spend equal time looking at the toys and the attractive male sales clerks.
Joan had her flag back next time I was in town, and we showed our love by yelling “Joaaaaan!” from inside of my car when we drove past. I always keep my eyes on the road while driving, but it takes some self-control not to get completely distracted by her peaking out from behind the trees and bus shelter. Joan is so gleaming gold that she even shines through the shrubbery when its dark. The goldness is even more blinding up close. My golden birthday is in twenty four days, and I wish Portland were a bit closer so I could go eat cupcakes and/or cookies in the tuft of grass around Joan. But it’ll be just as awesome to dart across the awkward crosswalks when I’m back west in June.