Well, two things.

No, three.

Three, for real. Three.

Number one: I’ve been super busy as the lead organizer for WordCamp Portland 2010. In fact, I’m posting this from a geeky women unconference session. We did let some boys in, but they had to have either a daughter or a female dog.

Two. I’ve been trying to move this blog to a WPMU site for like, 6 months now. I haven’t made it yet. Of course, if I do it right, you won’t even notice. Wish me luck, cuz now that I”m a big fancy wordpress event organizer, I might have a few more contacts who can help me with this.

Three, and this is really the most important thing, because i’m super action excited about this: I thought of a way I want to repurpose this blog. Or not even repurpose, but add a dedicated running theme in here. Its AWESOME.

I call it: The Earworm Files.

Nummy! Right? Or actually it makes me think of that scene in The Wrath of Khan where Khan puts the nasty worm thingies in Chekhov’s ear, but whatever. The idea is that I always get these super random and sometimes obscure songs stuck in my ear. No really, WIERD AND RANDOM.

Like the theme from the Odd Couple.

Yeah, I know. I have no effin idea.

Stay tuned…

Intertribe (n): the internet tribe of lovely talented fabulous people who read my blog.

I have a Very Special Treat for you today!  It’s not often that I have a guest blog post.  Actually, it’s pretty much never.  At least up until now it’s been never.  Because, you know, everyone I know already has their own blog.  You have one, don’t you?  You’d tell me about it if you did, right?  Because I want to read it!  I’m always looking for new fun blogs to read.  Hook a girl up!

Where was I?  Ah, yes.  MY VERY FIRST GUEST BLOG POST!

Now I wouldn’t have just *anyone* write  a blog post on my own very dear to my heart blog.  Oh no.  But this story was hilarious, and has a great message, and is TRUE.  It happened in my house while I was away doing work-type things in far off places, but I wish I could’ve been here to see it all go down.  So without further (verging on excessive, I know) ado, let me introduce my very own roomie, Louie, and his recounting  of this fine tale of inter-species partnership.

Author’s Note: YES I use capitol letters in some funny ways. Just imagine I am from the 1820′s.

A Man, a Cat, a Dog, a Rat.
Adventures in organic pest control.

“Lo in some cave long ago, there died a caveman who did not listen when his dog suggested they were all about to be eaten by a Giant Bear. We are NOT his descendants.”

It was Jessie that noticed first. She seemed sure that there was something interesting behind the china cabinet.

“hey!” says Jessie, “over here over here! something is interesting!” she said in fluent Dog. However, interesting for Jessie might be scraps – once stuffing – of some dearly departed stuffed toy. Plush Guts.

I glanced at the cats, especially Her Mu-Ness, Puffy the Slayer, the Murderous Muffin, Scourge and God of mice and voles and terror even unto the very squirrels.

Nothing. She said “Wuh, huh? Oh no, nothing about, not for days, the dog is daft.” Amazing what a cat can say with one open eye and a body loaded with cat comfort.

I saw nothing, the cats ears were not swiveling and the toy focused canine returned to her investigation of the underside of the china hutch.

“hey hey hey!” her eyes and face say.
Oh be still jessie be still.
*wiggle wiggle wag wag* “but but come see come see come see!”
hush, puppy.
*Yip* “I am Not Kidding”
oh alright, I’ll come look, remove the Object of Attention, peace will reign.

Except it wasn’t plush guts.

It was not a big rat as rats go, ordinary, not even old enough to have developed evil genius cunning. But a pretty professional rat just the same.

>Insert Classical symphonic scores here, Peter and the Wolf meets Night on Bald Mountain<

To get a better look I slid the china hutch a bit. The rat flipped me off and shot as though from rat-gun across the floor wall edge.

Lets clear the air a minute. I enjoyed The Secret of NIMH, Flushed Away and Ratatouille. But real rats (not the caged kind) are not cute, not funny, not “just trying to live their lives”. They do not live happily in Nature. They are devoted to eating what we have, living in our houses crapping and peeing on every thing they walk on or by. They have evolved to Live Off of Us. The bring us plague, Leptospira, Rat-Bite fever , Salmonellosis and several forms of Typhus. Fleas and intestinal parasites come with them as well. A pair of rats can produce enough offspring to fill your house in a mighty small spot of time. They are dangerous to your pets, your home and your self.  They will bite your baby and kill your chickens. Rat traps and rat poison are dangerous to use, and they have not yet come up with that better rat trap we all hear about.

>Sports announcer over the dramatic soundtrack<

“And Jessie moves to Intercept, she’s on it, No, Rat has backflipped to duck under the curtain edge. The Murderous Mu has exploded onto the field, and is in hot pursuit!”

>crowds cheer<

“Rat to the corner, pressure is on, Man to the left, Dog to the right, looks like.. NO! Rat has evaded behind the couch but that is not stopping our Miss Muffin Mu! Man and Dog are flanking the couch, Rat runs for it and slips past Jessie, narrowly missing the snap of teeth. Pressing from Jessie, troublesome shelving. Jessie looks like she wants the score for herself!”

“Yeah but Rat’s extreme maneuverability lets him scoot back to the couch, scuffling, fierce squeaking tell us that he has run into … The Power-Puff! But this Rat is not down! Spectacular Acro-Ratics – who thought that rats could fly! Rat Looks Rat-tled though, signs of intimate contact with the claws of Mu. Rat has found every spot the cats paw and dogs maw cannot reach.”

“The Man has gotten a Stick! The Man has gotten a Stick! Comments Jim?”

“Well the Man is clearly the underdog here, no offense Jessie, and a stick is a traditional tactic. He will probably use it to displace the opposition from those claw and snout proof positions. My guess is it may also be useful in the Terminal Moment. Rat is making a move! A bold attempt! Feint to the curtains, a mad dash for the china hutch! But man has beaten Rat to the Hutch and slides it out far enough for the Power team of Mu and Jessie to get right inside! the crowd (all 2 of them) is Going wild!”

“Jim, this classic grudge match was first fought about 5,000 BC. That was about the time Cats joined up. Till then, man and dog played against the rodent team without this specialized player.”

“Well times may have changed Bob, but these are tried and true plays, first developed in the early days of the game and OH Boy the break seems to be over! Looks like rat is fully cornered… MU moving up Jessie is on guard. Man and stick are closing in and..

Thats it! the 967 millionth Rat bowl is over!

>crowd of two cheering<

Our lives are covered with technology, much of it unseen and subtle, some of it overt and obvious. In spite of the recent invention of Laser mosquito killers, I feel we are far from replacing the exquisite intricacy and infinite flexibility of one of our oldest technologies, other species. In this advanced world, we would do well to remember that most of our problems are still best addressed with what millions and billions of years of biological adaptation can give us.

The three of us bonded during this adventure. When all was over and the offensive carcass removed, Miss Muffin Mu, Jessie the Bold and Your Author had the most satisfying mutual pet-rub-snuggle session. Man and Dog and Cat all in a happy pile of purring and wiggling and self congRATulations.

We humans did not get here alone. We had help. Man and Dog and Cat evolved together. In mutual support, we have come to a future where dog and cat can largely retire and enjoy being pets.
I am fine with that, they have paid their dues. Again.

RT @CERN OH FUCK RUN   (link) 

The brilliance of this tweet may not be apparent at first glance. Let me break it down for you.

Very Large Hadron Collider. Words Capitalized For Proper Effect. Photo by Peter McCready

First of all, who is @CERN ? Why, none other than the The European Organization for Nuclear Research , who are currently in the process of running the Large Hadron Collider , or LHC. The LHC is a 100 meter particle accelerator which spans the border of France and Sweden, and which is right now smashing million and billions and trillions of atoms in an effort to gain a better understanding of the universe. They started its ‘operation phase’ a few days ago, amid (partly) joking worries  that these experiments would create a black hole that would engulf the earth. Ok. So, big huge ass particle accelerator.  Ramping up to create antimatter and black holes and Maximilian  will jump out of it and eat you. The buzz on Twitter was pretty amusing, with people mostly faking panic. Mostly.

Next, the tweet itself. “OH FUCK RUN” is pretty simple, but if you know who CERN is, and what they’ve been up to recently, combined with the muted concern around the world that …well, something VERY VERY BAD could maybe possibly happen when you start fucking with the universe and physics in a whole new way and who are these crazy physicists and what the hell do they think they’re doing, right? Despite the fact that these experiments are recreating occurences that happen all the time in the universe. They’ve just never happened on our planet, underneath the earth, in a controlled experiment by fallible humans. So, armed with all that, it’s clear that perhaps the folks at CERN are playing, quite unintentionally I’m sure, on the not-so-scientific community’s fears.

But then comes the true genius of the tweet. Because CERN tweeted no such thing. It was in fact first tweeted by a guy named @mikeysan . I suppose that CERN might be somewhat to blame. I mean, they did time all this activity at the LHC daaaaangerously close to April Fool’s Day. I mean, I do believe April Fools’ day is a well known day in Europe, considering it was first mentioned in Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales (which I am very fond of, incidentally!  What, you can’t speak Olde Englysh?)  Maybe next time they could postpone it a week or two.  You know, after April Fool’s day, when everyone has forgotten about pranks and practical jokes as a national pastime for 24 hours.

In conclusion, I’d like to just say one thing:  My hat is off to you, @mikeysan.  Well done.  Well, well done. 

Note: I admittedly did very light checking of facts for this article, as I’m on a shitty wireless connection in a hotel in Baltimore.  If I got any of the facts about CERN or the LHC wrong, please feel free to comment below and correct.  Thanks!

I also remember the agony I endured as my ears struggled and failed to adjust to the pressurization and depressurization of the cabin. It is still probably one of the most painful things I’ve ever endured. (Parents, take note: if your child is screaming on a plane, it may very well be that their ears feel like someone is plunging icepicks into them. The only cure is to have them drink liquids; the act of swallowing will help their ears adjust to the pressure.) But despite that ordeal, I was completely and absolutely in love with this experience, and everything it implied. It’s no wonder that all my aspirations as I considered my future was somehow connected to flying; astronaut, astrophysicist, aerospace engineer, air force academy. My life has not lead me to those things, and I don’t regret it, but that love was always there.

And then, two things happened.

The first, we all remember: September 11th, and the two hijacked planes which tore into the World Trade Center buildings in New York. Buildings which I remember having family pictures taken at the top of, my mom pregnant with my brother, all of us smiling in wonderment at the view. Buildings whose destruction cast a pall of fear over every single flight I have taken since, where I cannot help but look at all my fellow passengers with a tinge of suspicion.

The second, less well remembered but happening just two months, was also plane crash, also in New York, also in 2001. With all the insanity still swirling around 9/11, as soon as it was confirmed that the cause of the crash was not related to terrorists, poeple soon forgot about it and returned to mourning and speculation around the 9/11 crash. Eventually the cause was determined to be “excessive rudder inputs to counteract wake turbulence”. Basically, what this means is that a jet took off and caused a huge amount of turbulence in the air. The jet immediately following the first one takes off, flies into that turbulence, and apparently due to the pilot’s overreaction it caused the entire tail section to shear off. However, at first the news claimed that it was due to that wake turbulence and not the pilot’s reaction to it that caused the accident.

So I have two pieces of information in my brain after that. One, terrorists are everywhere and are trying to kill us using the aircraft we take for granted. Anyone can be a terrorist. Anyone. Two, simple turbulence during takeoff can sometimes be so violent that it can shear off a plane’s tail section, which is downright impossible to recover from.

Ergo, my love of flying has been subsumed by a complete fear of flying. It did not stop me from flying, but the joy, the wonder, the feeling of being really ALIVE that I so enjoyed was completely and forever gone. Or so I thought.

Yesterday, I took a flight. I’ve taken a bunch of flights since September 11th, 2001. But this one was different. Sure, the terrorists and wind shear and turbulence were all still in my head. But this flight? This flight, to a place that is not at all special, for reasons not at all interesting or exciting – this flight was different.  This time, the fear and suspicions faded into the background, and once again I enjoy the rush and the rumble of the engines as we tear down the runway and leap up into the blue.

I think next year I will take flying lessons.

Could this be an arm around my waist?
Well surely the hand contains a knife…
-Morrissey, “I’m Ok By Myself”

A disturbing trend has revealed itself to me, my dear faithful internets.  I’ve been trotting along my merry way, dating here and dating there.  Gathering ye rosebuds as I may, so to speak.  Now me, I have a pretty regular pattern when navigating murky dating waters: Relationship ends.  I enter period of celibate mourning.  I feel better after a variable amount of time and commence dating, ready to find the next serious relationship.  I’m not saying it’s the best, or the most effective, or even the pattern I would choose were I able.  But it’s what works for me, and that’s pretty much that.  Every relationship I’ve had has been better, healthier than the last, and I have learned valuable lessons with each one.  Binge dating, one night stands, empty sex just have never appealed to me.  Well, not *really*.  I have my moments, I mean GOD.  I’m only human. But anyway…

This time around, there is a term that has cropped up again and again, not just in my experiences, but those of my friends as well.  I had not personally encountered this term in the past, but now it seems to be pervasive:  This thing called “emotionally unavailable”.

Now this might surprise you but
I find I’m ok by myself
And I don’t need you
Or your morality
To save me
No no no no no

My reaction to this term has always been negative.  Consider the premise upon which I function:  That a person’s natural inclination, emotional entropy, if you will, is to find that one person that completes them.  It might be for a few years, or forever.  It is generally not possible for someone to connect this deeply with more than one person at a time; they can come close, but there is the desire to have that one partner, that one companion who is above all others.  A soul mate, for lack of a better term.  The urge to create connections, to bond, is stronger than all others.

This might disturb you but
I find I’m ok by myself
And I don’t need you
Or your benevolence
To make sense
No no no no

Based on that premise, I concluded that the only reasons someone could have for claiming this state of emotional unavailability are twofold; either they are unwilling to be truthful about the real reason they don’t want to connect (“She’s just not that into you”) or they have succumbed to the fear of being hurt, and are unwilling to face that fear – a cop out, in my view.  But I had never truly investigated that stance outside my own admittedly flawed brain, and decided to start asking around.  Determine if perhaps there were other reasons, or if the reasons I had were valid.  Time for some investigative blogging!  I was surprised, somewhat, by what I discovered.

After all these years
I find I’m ok by myself
And I don’t need you
Or your homespun philosophy
No no no no

What I found during my highly unscientific in-depth investigation is that while those reasons are quite valid, there is a different way to view the second one, and a third one I had not considered.

A short word on the first one:  If you’re just using someone for the sex, or to fill time, then say so.  To do otherwise is to lead someone on, and that is never ok in the world of the human heart.  That’s all I think I need to say about that.

We have all been hurt, except for all those perfect couples of which there are OH SO VERY MANY, and perhaps some yogis sitting on a mountain in Tibet.  And I’m sure there’s been squabbles over yak milk there, too.  But I’m talking about being heartbroken – that pain is hard to risk again.  I seem to be somewhat risk immune to it, but whatever.  Not everyone is so lucky, I guess.  So saying you’re emotionally unavailable could be construed as a way of keeping the definitions vague, thereby saving us from having to make a choice.  Which is not a bad thing; sometimes we need to scope out the situation for a while.  But in this case, I maintain that the use of the term is misleading.  Instead, let’s perhaps say that ‘I’m keeping my options open’, or ‘I’m not ready to commit to anything’.  Emotionally unavailable gives the impression of being inflexible.

This might make you flop in your bed
I’m ok by myself
And I don’t need you
And I never have
I never have
No no no no no

The third reason I found were those people who have not yet recovered from that heartbreak.  The ones who are still damaged, who are going through repairs.  They cannot even contemplate any sort of emotional connection.  The difference, and probably the reason I did not consider it, is that when I am in that state I turn into a hermit.  You don’t see me.  I don’t go out.  I sit in my house and heal, I do things for myself, I hug my pets.  I do not, however, eat pints of ice cream – I’m more likely to grill up a steak.  Gotta watch that waistli…um…yeah.  I may go out and see friends occasionally, but I’d much prefer they visit me.  And I do not date anyone, see anyone, sleep with anyone.  I couldn’t comprehend the thought of someone else touching me, or me being at all interested in touching anyone else, which saves me from having to explain that at that moment, I am emotionally unavailable.  Other people embark upon a game of conquest, sleeping with everyone who catches their eye and is willing, but refusing to apply or entertain any meaning to it.  These people heal however they may, but they most certainly have no business trying to enter into another serious relationship until the damage has been healed.  They then use the term to explain the situation, which is probably its most correct usage.

The greatest thing you’ll ever learn
Is how to love and be loved in return.
-Eden Ahbez, “Nature Boy” (1948)

I guess in closing, what I’m discovering is that the term “emotionally unavailable” has become a blanket term for a host of different things, and in the case of close interpersonal relationships, I suggest that a more descriptive term of the actual situation be employed, if possible – realizing that the line between the second and third reasons are very cloudy at best.  I also think that it is not something you are, it is something you become.  It is a reaction to an external input, and as it goes against the initial premise, it is not something to be content with indefinitely.  Much as I use Morrissey’s song as an effective tool at maintaining emotional distance, it is a temporary state – behind the walls, underneath the facade, my truth is the line from Eden Ahbez.  Of course, my initial premise may be wrong, or just my own; but I find that emotionally, we are so very much alike in so many different ways.  More love, more commitment, more honesty, more passion.  These are the things I seek and treasure, and hope for everyone.

What inspires you?

I’ve had my head full of Muses and heavenly Inspiration for the past few weeks, you see. And of course the moment anything stirs that messy glorious soup wherein my creative juices smolder and bubble, percolate and stew, my first thoughts turn to music. Yes, there’s this writing thing. And the photography thing. And now this whole producing thing…but music is the first thing I think of.

I know. I realize that I am writing about music. Hush up and read on.

A while back I wrote about some of my favorite songs. Now, with all this talk of inspiration, I thought I’d share with you all some of the musicians who inspire me as a musician.

I started my musical career as a classical guitarist at the age of 6, so that’s where I’ll start. Probably one of the most amazing classical guitarist I’d ever seen was Andres Segovia.  I used to watch him and try to copy all the mannerisms and fingering that he would do on the few occasions I was lucky enough to see him on television.  I couldn’t find any videos of him playing these two songs I practiced endlessly back then, so here’s a few talented performers doing their own rendition: Malaguena and Aranjeuz Mon Amour .  I’d never say I ever got it down as good as these guys, but I rocked it in my own right.

“For me, the sound is only half of music – the space between the notes is also vitally important. I gave a speech at Berklee College of Music a couple years ago and talked about silence. As musicians, all we do is create a frame for silence, because silence is the perfect music.”

Without inspiration the best powers of the mind remain dormant, there is a fuel in us which needs to be ignited with sparks. – Johann Gottfried Von Herder

Yeah.  I know.

It’s slow.

S    L    O    O    O    O    O   W.

I can’t even say slow slow enough to fully capture just how slow my blog loads now.

No fears tho!  Thanks to the fabulous Jason Grigsby and his talk  from last year’s WordCamp Portland ,  ”Speed Up WordPress: Make Readers Happy and Your Site Green”, I have this handy little tool on my FireFox called YSlow .  And I’ll be using it to optimize my blog so the SLOW WILL BE NO MO.

Just as soon as I have time.  I mean, you see how long it took me just to install a couple new themes to play around with? 

THE BUSIES.  I HAZ THEM.

Still.  Here’s a short little list of all the plates I have spinning merrily:

• Ignite Portland 8  (March 3rd!  Come see!)
• 30 Hour Day 2  (July 2-3.  AT THE SQUARE. Squeeeee!!!)
• WordCamp Portland 2010  (September 18-19)
• Junior producer for Strange Love Live  and memePDX 

And that’s just my projects.  I still go to martial arts class, I still work on the Eternal Project, I date people, I try to keep my dog well exercised and happy because she’s the bestest dog on the planet, I am trying to build a couple of DJ sets to shop around, and I still love to write using blogs for my various writing outlets (this here personal one, OurPDX, and now the WordCamp Portland blog is gonna need some loves from me.)

Oh yeah, and work. 

So, busy.

I could use some help with that stuff, you know.  If you’re not doing anything.  Stuff like:

• Recommending great local bands who’d like to play the 30 Hour Day 2 Variety Show on July 3rd
• Volunteering for some core responsibilities for WordCamp Portland
• Mow my front yard

Ok I was kidding about the yard one.

Mostly kidding.

Also, just so you know – lolcats  might be taking over my brain.  If my posts start to become a bit gibberishy-make that more gibberishy than usual-please send a couple dogs, or cat exterminator, to save me and my dog from the lolcats.

@magdaZINE: @morganpdx your site keeps redirecting me to ChinaTV is that supposed to happen?  Hacked?

@bigscotty:     @morganpdx Same thing here.  ChinaTV.

@morganpdx It happens after about 10 minutes or after I scroll over something.  Still investigating.

@morganpdx Definetely a redirect after a few seconds.

(incidentally, Scott is a very funny guy, I hear. Something about some theater , and maybe ignite 8 ? And a 30 hour day ? Huh. Anyway…)

Now, people get hacked every day (or so I’ve been told by the paranoid cyber security dept at my work).  However, I’ve always been of the opinion that you should cater your security to the likelihood of attack and the sensitivity of your content. Now I know I SAID I was famous , but I’m really not. Really. And I don’t post anything-ANYTHING- of value, except for my own and (I dearly hope!) your entertainment. So the way I see it, my security risk is lower than a con man in an orphanage.

But it happened. I got hit. Haxx0red!! This was NOT r0xxin mah b0xx0rs. All my posts are belong to China TV.

So, grumbling and cursing and sending out palpable waves of pissed off energy throughout my entire neighborhood, I deleted my entire blog with the exception of the database, the wp-content/plugins directory and the wp-config.php file, downloaded a brand spankin’ new fresh copy of the latest WordPress install  (version 2.9.1), and copied the new files over. Problem solved, except I forgot to keep my themes folder. Oops. Well heck, I was gonna change my theme anyway, right?

*Edit: Problem not yet solved.  I’m running into lots of missing stuff, and navigation is totally fubar still.  I’m still researching issues.  But at least the home page still works

I will admit, somewat sheepishly, that I did NOT have the latest release of WordPress installed, as Matt Mullenweg  encouraged us to do when he spoke at WordCamp Portland  last year. Considering I’m gonna be running the dang thing this year, I’m happy to say that I’ve remedied that oversight!  I can’t say that having the latest version would have kept this from happening, but it certainly didn’t help, I’m sure.

SO THANK YOU MISTER HACKER. THANK YOU FOR MAKING MY BLOG WORTHY OF RUNNING WORDCAMP PORTLAND, AND CAUSING ME TO UPGRADE MY THEME.

Now, does anyone think it’s at all odd that my WordPress blog was hacked two days after it was announced I was going to be running WordCamp Portland?

Yeah, me neither.  Mostly.

non-techy friend: Do you have an extra keyboard? I put mine in the dishwasher and i think it is dead

me: You’re not kidding, are you.

ntf: You must learn to be more loving and patient with your short bus friends.

m: Excuse me while I laugh at you for a few minutes.

ntf: No problem.  I can wait.

m: Ok now put it in the fridge for a day or so and then try it again.

ntf: I said short bus, not mini cooper.  Now you are just messing with me.  ‘Here, <friend’s name redacted to protect the innocently untechy>, try this!’ then some more laughing with your big smarty pants computer smarties.

Bully.

I honestly can’t say what would possess anyone to look at a keyboard and think it is a worthy prospect for a trip through caustic detergents and super heated waves of water.  I would no sooner put my phone, or my television, or …well, my laptop in the dishwasher than the keyboard.  But this story does have a happy ending:  I did in fact have an extra keyboard – a wireless one, in fact – and the super clean yet unfunctional one is hopefully drying out in the fridge.

So a word of warning, everyone!  DO NOT PUT KEYBOARDS IN THE DISHWASHER.

In a place like Portland, there is simply no excuse for such an oversight. I remember the sublime satisfaction I felt as a kid when I would make one; it had such heft and utility compared to a paper plane. Paper planes were cool and all, but the flight performance was always questionable. Not so with the boat; it would always float, and always follow the current. Where the plane was, well, flighty, the boat was reliable.

Here. Let me remedy this for all of us.

Now go. Go make a paper boat. And then, float it down the street towards the drain, and dream of ocean voyages. And pirates.

Anyway, here’s the rundown of the past couple weeks, which were WAY more crazy then the next two are shaping up to be.

11/29/09: My birthday!  I have a birthday party.  There’s a theme.  It’s Xanadu!  I inflict this movie on all my friends.  Mercilessly.

12/16/09: I receive numerous emails from several friends and acquaintances that the Broadway musical Xanadu was coming to Portland in January.  And the tickets went on sale on my birthday, which just SMACKS of destiny, doesn’t it?  Seriously, like 3 people all emailed me THE SAME DAY.  I guess the word kinda got out that I like Xanadu.  But for the record, I just LIKE it.  It’s not like it’s my favorite movie of all time or anything.  It’s not, you know.

12/31/09: I start working with the wonderful folks at the Portland Opera to come up with some ideas on how to drum up interest for the show via the OurPDX blog.  We come up with some AWESOME ideas…

01/03/10: I post the first blog post on OurPDX.com.  It was brilliant, of course.  Inspired, you might say.  Because I am an artiste.  Or perhaps the Muses graced my keyboard?  Whatever.

01/04/10: The first of five days of Xanadu quiz questions on the Twitters.  It was (mostly) all tagged with the hashtag #pdxanadu. Strangely, for only having 5 days of quiz questions, we had EIGHT finalists!  Because I only use the minute hand when I check who answered first.  And Friday, there were a whole gaggle of people who answered within the same minute.  Lucky!

01/07/10: I get to interview Annie Golden, who plays Calliope.  The only person I’d ever interviewed for OurPDX before this was @mediachick.  That was great, of COURSE, but I mean…she’s my friend, and we hang out, and SHE MADE ME A PIE FOR MY BIRTHDAY.  This interview was someone famous, who I never met, over the phone.  So I was a touch nervous.  But it was FABULOUS! I spend all night and part of the next day writing up the blog post.  It seemed like something I ought to get up asap, you know?

01/09/10: @camikaos and I make OurPDX blogging history!  We co-blog a hilarious post as we announce the winner of the Xanadu tickets giveaway. (Grats, @blabbey!)

01/12/09: Cami and I head out to our big night at the Keller Auditorium.  We were sparkly.  Cami wore really big earrings.  I wore a lot of glitter.  We saw all sorts of friends, like @dieselboi and @anna_v and @mizd and @chefchopper!  The show was fabulous, the company was great, and of course we went for pie afterwards.  I think.  Did we go for pie?  Maybe I don’t remember exactly.  No, I’m pretty sure there was pie.

01/13/10: Since I was super smart and took half the day off the next day, it allowed Cami and I to write our second blog post where we regale the OurPDX readers with our wild tales of glitter and glam.  Plus I was hung over.

01/15/09: I head out to my second viewing of Xanadu.  I know, you’d think once was enough, but not for me, apparently.  Truth is, I sort of told some friends I’d go see it with them before this whole OurPDX thing started.  So you know, I had to keep my commitments.  This caused several cool things to happen:  I became Mayor of the Keller Auditorium on foursquare, and I got a second chance to get a backstage tour thanks to Annie!  We weren’t on the stage for 2 minutes however, before the company manager kicked us off the stage in the most polite way I’ve ever heard, and then complemented me on my blogging.  It seems she kept the cast apprised of my online Xanadu musings.  I LOVE NEW FANS.  We ended up standing outside in the rain, chatting, my friends and Annie and I.  With an umbrella.  Dang foreigners and their umbrellas.

So there it is.  My Xanadu exploits, compiled and presented to you, dear readers.  As for me, I think I’ve had my fill of Xanadu for a while.  Or until someone wants to watch it with me.  Anyone?

Anyone?

::crickets::

She lounges on her back patio, her skin soaking in the last sparkling rays of sunshine as the sun makes his way to his evening engagements.  Eyes closed, she breathes in the warm late summer air, catching the faint juicy scent of the tomato plant nearby.  Small ripe yellow tomatoes the shape of tiny gourds dangle from the plant, their flesh glowing and translucent in the late afternoon sun.

Sun Tomato

She reaches an arm out and plucks a tomato, feeling its firm skin, still very warm from the heat of the day.  Holding the tomato up to the light, its veined interior glows darker against the bright yellow.  She places it in her mouth and slowly bites into the ripe flesh, the skin resisting her teeth causing a small explosion of slightly sweet, slightly tangy juice to erupt against her tongue.

I wrote this in the summertime.  I saved it for the wintertime, so I could remember what summer feels like when it’s cold and wet and rainy outside.

Which is odd, considering I apparently am a Fanadu.  Who knew I was a Fanadu? I hadn’t a clue.  But it’s true!

What, you ask, is a Fanadu?  Fan + Xanadu, of course!

And while I don’t particularly care for the moniker, I’ll wear it proudly when I go to the opening night performance on January 12th.  THAT’S RIGHT.  I GOT ME SOME TICKETS AND I’M GOIN TO TOWN.

So check it:

A blog post about me going to see Xanadu and the awesomeness that it entails on that other blog for which I sometimes write funny stuff.

The highs of this year? Easy. Meeting and getting to know the most amazing community I’ve ever had the honor, luck and pleasure of being a part of. Thanks to the pdx tech community, I have new ideas, new activities, and most importantly, new friends and connections which enrich my life in ways I could never have imagined (*cough* igniteportland and 30hourday *cough*), and will continue to enrich my life in ways I can only dream. So whether or not I follow you on Twitter, friend you on Facebook, or we hook up on LinkedIn, I’m glad I met each and every last one of you.

But it’s not all about the pdx tech scene! There’s been old friends reuniting, new activities ventured, and new friends made in other areas of my life as well!

In reviewing my year, I decided to steal copy borrow an end-of-year blog post idea from my friend Rick Turoczy, the Silicon Florist, and see what my blog posts from the past year say about me (That Rick, he’s big on the word clouds, isn’t he?):

I see hope there, my friends.  Spring fires and hope.  And also vampires.

Have a safe and happy New Year.  May you find the courage to make your life what you want it to be.

I just watched the absolutest worstest movie I have ever seen. And I have seen my share of crappy movies. Like Krull. And Amazon Jail. (Yeah, look that one up.)

But this one, this took the cake. Even as far as bad lesbian movies go, which are already bad, this was bad. And that is BAD.

It was called Maggie and Annie. Or annie and maggie. Or you know, two girls’ names.

First, it was a softball movie. Or at least it claimed to be a softball love story. Like as if the writers were having lunch:

Writer 1: “Hey, let’s make a lesbian romance!”

Writer 2: “Yeah, those are always easy fun! Don’t they like softball? Let’s make it a softball movie!”

Writer 1: “yeah, but we don’t know any actresses who can play softball”

Writer 2: “No problem. We’ll just film them standing out in the field and smacking gloves.”

So. Not one of the main characters was ever seen actually PLAYING softball. Standing in a softball field, yes. Yelling out encouragement, sure. But not one of them was ever seen catching, fielding or batting. There was some team of softball players playing, viewed from a great distance, like say beyond the fence at center field, but that’s about it.

Next, one of the main characters is married to a guy. A very nice, understanding guy, who didn’t freak when he finds out his wife is screwing her best friend. He even calls up the best friend, who had moved away to ‘let the flames die’, and suggested that they share his wife.

Uh huh.

Wait, it gets better!

The sex scenes were OH SO VERY LAME. They looked like two kindergarten girls playing dress up, except they were playing ‘two girls kissing’. There was lots of giggling and dreamy-eyed staring, and CRYING (omg who cries the first time they sleep with someone? Ugh). If I’d been one of those girls, I would’ve been all like “BITCH QUIT YER GIGGLING AND LET’S GET NASTY!” or something. Ok actually I don’t talk like that. Really not ever. But I’d be thinking it REALLY REALLY HARD.

And then. AND THEN.

So poor lesbian girl runs away to San Francisco (of course) to get away from the insane passion that she so (un) obviously shares with the married chick, to no avail. Married chick goes on and on to her husband about how depressed she is and how much she misses lesbian chick. And he just nods sadly until he finally calls lesbian chick and works out an arrangement to ‘share her’ (like a nice car or something, right?). And lesbian chick is all happy and drives home, and gets hit by a drunk driver and dies.

OMG HOW STUPID RIGHT??! RIGHT!!!

So married chick is all like ‘I’d have been so mad at you if you died without me saying goodbye…”

Ok I hate her. What a selfish little bitch! She has this great guy, a little girl, and all she can do is go on and on about how depressed she is, when the poor lesbian chick at least has the decency to try to move on, and she didn’t have a family to turn to at night.

Bitch, please.

I’m gonna watch me some Underworld, Rise of the Lycans. I need to cleanse my palate.

Actually, see what being Internet Famous and not saying no will get you?

It gets you involved in amazing, fabulous, inspiring projects which suck all the sleep out of you.

Like this one.

Watch this spot.  No, this spot right here.  Right.  Here.

Video:

Streaming live video by Ustream

Chat:

Social:

I’ll be embedding the stream there for your viewing pleasure.  And if you tune in around 9:30am on Saturday, you’ll see me!  Yes, I’ll even be ON THE AIR.  Or the stream.  Whatever.  Followed by the variety show, which I’ll be running behind the scenes.  Only a fabulous charitable event such as this could get me in front of that many people and try to be funny.  And I will.  Try.  But please, I have a celebrity’s sensitive ego.  It squishes easily!  Because that’s what Internet Famous people do.  They have squishy egos.  Like a sponge, soaking up all the opinions about ME from everyone who of course is talking about ME.*

So, even though I’m permitted to sleep tonight (and really tomorrow night too, but don’t tell anyone)…I don’t think I’ll be able to.  Sometimes…it’s good to be wicked.  Famous.**

*You all do realize I’m joking, right?

**Just so you know, I don’t really think I’m famous.  Not in the least.  I know it might seem like I am, but I’m not.  Please, stop sending me money.  No really, you can stop.  Well ok, maybe after you send that last check.  THEN you can stop.  I mean it.

I’m at the Bagdad Theatre last night, watching Word to the Wise(men), a festive storytelling event full of scantily clad elves, cupcakes and music. That in and of itself is fabulous, I know. Being at the Bagdad and not running an event is kinda strange for me now, but some friends of mine were represented in this effort in various ways, and I was being a fangirl supportive.

I see a friend of mine walking over with a few other people, so naturally I go over to say hello. Thats what you do in these social situations, acknowledge people you like, right? See I thought so. Anyway, my friend introduces me to the guy with him: “Morgan, this is AGuy.  AGuy, this is Morgan.”

AGuy (sorry, can’t remember his name, it takes me a minimum of 7 times before I can remember peoples names, seriously you don’t?) anyway, he says to me as he grips my hand Very Tightly (the same hand I nearly broke on Thanksgiving, ouchouchouch): “Morgan? Like as in morganpdx?” I nod affirmative, slightly bewildered. “Oh man I LOVE reading your blog! You’re so funny and awesome and amazing and I want to have your babies!!”. At least that’s what I think he said. That’s what I heard, anyway. Which means, of course, that I’M INTERNET FAMOUS!!! I’M A FUCKIN ROCK STAR!

Funny, my chauffer hasn’t arrived in my Morgan limo yet. You get one of those when you’re Internet Famous, right? And a personal chef and personal trainer? I expect the checks will start rolling in Any Day Now.

it was awesome.

i have more to say about that.  but not just right now.

i have the best friends.

and i am super lucky to have them.

if you have friends, and i hope you do…let them know they’re appreciated.

seriously.  do it.  you may not get another chance.  because tomorrow never knows.

However.

When I was 6, I started taking guitar lessons.  I still remember begging my parents to make that happen.  I went through several guitar instructors, entered some competitions (which I won) until the ripe old age of 10, at which point I told my parents I was done, for reasons I won’t go into right now.  I’ve never really regretted my decision, since I have worked hard to continue to have music play a large role in my life.

There was one teacher in particular who to this day, I will never forget.  He lived in a grand house with sweeping staircases, and we would have lessons in his library.  His library was an actual room with BOOKS in it.  He was very sweet and kind, and encouraged me to branch out into other musical pursuits, such as the violin and hawaiian style or slide guitar.  I thought he was the best thing ever.  My parents let me practice violin for a week, at which point my violin career ended.

So the other night, it suddenly occurred to me that I wish I had insisted to my parents that I wanted to continue branching out my musical training to other instruments like the violin.  And I also wish my guitar teacher who encouraged that hadn’t died of a stroke so soon after I began training with him.   I think my life would be very different now had he lived longer.

I think I’ll dust off my saxaphone.

Welcome, autumn.