Today was a good day for me.
I’m still in training for my new position at my job. I completed training for the first position last week and moved into training for the next. We are getting ready for our official training, which will be in Baltimore for a few weeks. I leave Tuesday, and won’t get back till December 14th. By 2008, I’ll be a professional student for sure!
I was in such a good mood this evening I didn’t even bury my face in a book when I got to the bus stop. (Currently reading: Fugitives and Refugees, by Chuck Palaniuk who also wrote Fight Club and is/was a Portlander) An old Indian spotted my pink “B” cap (go Sox!) and said how much he liked it. Then he began sharing some old Indian wisdom with me. I love it when people just talk to me. It seems like I don’t find many Indians who want to talk. He commented on how so many people seem to be caught up in a fast world of consumerism.
Then the Indian told me that he was worried about all the people who are using computers, and technology in general. “They’re stealing,” he said, “and there will come a day when it has to balance out.” “Stealing?” I asked him. “They’re stealing electricity. Taking and taking, and not giving back. There must be a balance. Some day it will balance, and that will cause problems.” It gave me pause, and I believe I will now have to spend some time thinking about that.
There is a man who rides the morning bus with me (and sometimes we hit the same evening bus as well) who has a condition that causes his arms and legs and fingers to sort of go their own way. He’s handsome and friendly, and everyone wants to be his friend on the bus. It is so much fun to listen to friends on the bus. I am humbled by his grace for example, when he casually uses his right hand to pull his left arm back into his personal sphere, and when he hurries to cross the street, moving his limbs through a dance that is repetitive actions. It occurred to me that I walk the same way: repeated actions of limbs that get me moving forward.
We passed a man on the street who was grinning and holding his dog on a leash. From the height on the bus I could look down onto his bald head, completely tattooed.
Another dog – a pit bull puppy – was taking her owner for a walk. She pulled against her leash so hard she was airborne shortly at every bound. Each lunge was halted in mid air and she would hang and then drop, and then lunge again.
Across from Couch Park is a building with a completely round top. What is this building? I’ll have to go there and find out. A church of some kind? Reminds me of the mausoleum of Mevlana I walked through in Turkey.
In the park is a tease for children. It may be sculpture. It looks like a fat merry-go-round that spun so fast it went up into the air.
In the Pearl District at 6pm on a weekday, there are two groups of people: young fabulous hipsters heading into Red Light (that and Buffalo Exchange are my two fave clothing stores that sell previously owned threads). The other group is professionals with their shiny shoes and long coats and exaggerated highlights in their hair and too cool glasses.
And every where are the lovely, lovely Portland women with their tight jeans and scarves and funky hats. How is it that the women here are so beautiful?
Ahhhh…. I just love this city