Bees

I'm fascinated by the small things. Like, bees are different here in Oregon on the West side than they are in the desert I'm from.

These look like pretty typical Tri-Cities bees. Nothin' fancy, not a lot of extra fuzz or anything...

Portland bees are HUGE. And FURRY BEYOND BELIEF. Example:

That is one fairly gigantic bee.

So I don't have to go to class tomorrow until 9, so I'm staying up way late. It's not my best plan ever, but it resulted in a post about bees. With pictures, even! How lucky are you?

'Night kids. For more information about bees and bee safety, please visit Isaac Marion's blog:

http://www.burningbuilding.com

Search for all his entries on bees. You'll be glad you did; it's quite educational.

Out From Under My Skin

Alright, Nancy Smith. I'm sorry I don't ever update my blog. That cat litter box is not going to change itself, though. And unfortunately, my job doesn't pay me to sit around and be funny (mildly amusing? not suicide-inducingly boring?) right now. That would be pretty stellar if it did. I'ma have to work on that.

So we gots 'da intrawebs in the apartment, and I have all this free time with my new schedule and blogging might just happen again. We'll see. I'm going to need a pretty hefty supply of Pringles and Diet Coke. (Not really, I think. My new and improved body might not support that kind of behavior. I've lost like 45 pounds in P-town) To give you an idea of all my new free time, when I started school and work at the same time last October, my day ran something like this:

MONDAY-FRIDAY: work (10am to 3pm) school (4pm to 9pm) transit time (9:15pm to 10pm) homework (10pm to unconsciousness) sleep.

SATURDAY: Frantically run errands, do laundry, catch up on homework/sleep/phone calls

SUNDAY: Church (maybe), more homework, possibly fun.

So now my schedule is way more reasonable. I'm to class by 7 AM but I'm done at 10, and to work by 10:30. Most days I'm off by 4, and can actually socialize during normal daylight hours. I can make it to the bank. It's pretty fabulous.

Just a couple more classes until I have my internship, and then back to the real world (this time with student loans-hooray!). I have a little aneurysm every time I think about that, but I'm sure it's not detrimental enough to my health to worry about. Basically, I'm primarily job hunting. I intend to find someplace that wants me to work there full time, then I can just let them sign my paperwork, and we'll all be happy. And I can work for them when I'm done, so I'm not just a three month intern using there facilities to pay the school so I can work for free. I don't see how that's okay with anyone. It's really an abusive system. Pretty lame. My friend from the session before me is working at a bakery as an assistant to a girl who doesn't do anything now that my friend is there. But it's my friend's internship. So she's paying tuition for a "class" that consists of her doing this other girl's work and not getting paid for it. But the other girl is getting paid. I would have a few choice words to say about that. Words like, um, "NO." Oh, well. I hope I won't have to be in a situation like that.

Right now my goal is to be out of the Mac Shack (Romano's Macaroni Grill, I do NOT work at McDonald's...not yet, anyway) by July. One of the managers comes back from maternity leave next month, and she stresses me way out. I cease to function like a normal human being, and it's ugly. She relies heavily on negative reinforcement and humiliation. She is no one I want to spend any more time with than I already have.

So several bakeries applied to (read, 15+) and none responded yet. Tears. Tears from my eyes. Come on now, people. Let's get our act together. Mary=stellar employee. The equation is not a difficult one. Some people, geesh.

What else is new? I'm selling my car. Ack! This makes me a real hippie Portlander with nothing but public transit and the power of my own legs/wheels (on the bike, silly)/ability to finagle a ride out of other people to get around. Which, all in all, is exciting. I live within fairless square on the MAX line, so school and work are free to ride to. Makes life fabulous. I haven't bought gas for my car since January. I look at the price boards now and my stomach cramps a little bit for my friends still attached to their four-wheeled demons (kidding).

Luckily, one of my best friends has a motorcycle, so I feel less bad about using him for all sorts of transportation. I feed him. I think it's a pretty fair trade. Also, he lives above one of the most fabulous coffee shops in Portland. he's a good friend to have.

In my spare time (still the most exciting phrase to have back in my life) I have taken to drawing stupid little comics. My friends from school and I had an awful lecture class that taught us a week's worth of information in three weeks, and we paid more for it than some people pay for cars. Used, but CARS. argh. So instead of paying attention, we bought a middle school quality notebook for notes. Middle school quality notes. The kind we all used to fold into funny shapes and jam into each other's hands between classes in the halls when we where 14. It's been amazing. We all take turns writing in it, and I love adding stupid little doodles to my turn, and it's escalated to minor cartooning. My own little paper webcomic. I might transfer them over to webcomic-ness someday.

Even though I'm webcomic'ed (almost) and still a student and single and needing to do laundry, I feel like I've grown up a whole lot this year. It's been quite a trip, actually. I love you all at home in the Tri-Towns, but wow. I'm not coming back any time soon. I'm probably not "coming home" to stay, ever. I won't say for sure, because God's a funny guy that way, and he tends to respond to all my 'I would never's' with "Oh, you won't, huh?" and then I'm doing exactly what I thought I'd never do. Or I'm fighting against it, and it's obviously what I'm supposed to do. Meh. We get by. I'm working on listening better. And loving.

No place will teach you to love or to hate people better than Portland. Every second is an opportunity to succeed at loving or fail and crash and burn in horrible bitter resentment. Especially when you work in a restaurant. I'm a queen of whining, complaining, being vengeful and caustic. I mean, I'm trying to get better, and to reflect the opposites of those things. But man, oh man. I feel like there should be some kind of prize for the people who get my back up in less than 10 seconds. Seriously. What's the minimum time frame for a person I've never met to walk into the Mac Shack and piss me off-royally? It's stunning how quickly I anger. Hmmm. Sounds like the problem is me. But when I've been up since 5:30, that's hardly ever how I see the situation.

So I'm creating rules for spending time with people-no complaining about work, no gossiping about the bed of sin and rumor that is the Macaroni Grill, and no money talk. It makes for a much less depressing life if we can manage these rules. It's what comes of having mostly servers for friends. Yikes.

In other Portlandy-life changing sorts of news, I'm thinking about tattoos again. I promised my friend Amy we'd get one together when we're done. It's going to be a whisk. Anyone seen Ace of Cakes? You'll know what I'm talking about. I'm also probably going to get two more at some point...but it's an expensive habit. Not expensive like being an alcoholic or a smoker or having kids, but pricey art. So one for a graduation present to me and to remember Amy by, and more when I have 50 bucks to spare. Small, easy to conceal, and not told to West Side moms who won't let me hang out with their daughters anymore. Ya know. I'm such a bad big-city kid now. What will ever become of me. I'm sure I'm not who you thought I was, right? :)

True 'dat.

I'm not who I thought I was 24 hours ago... -Jon Foreman

Alright. Is that enough to pacify the crazies who want to know what's going on in my life? I hope so. My fingers are tired. Love you, babes!
-Mary "lady astronaut" Crow