I was going to write something interesting about these neat devices they have in Spain (I'm sure it's an old, simple and common technology for everyone outside of the US), but all I can think now is OH MY GOD IT'S HOT. It was 102 degrees today and now that it's one in the morning it's only cooled to 82. To put things in perspective, the average high for July in Portland is 78 and the low 56. The basement is coolest place in the house, so I decided to sleep on the floor until the biggest spider I've ever seen crawled over my face. So now I'm on the couch in the basement. I'm not sure why I think that giant spiders won't make it up onto the couch, but I'm sticking with it.
Anyway, in Spain they have these things outside of all the windows that look like mini metal garage doors. Some roll up and down and some just flip up like blinds. Now in the US we have shutters on the windows, but they're purely for decoration in any house built after, say, 1840 and no office buildings have them at all. These high(er) tech Spanish shutters are on literally every window in the country. You can sleep all day in total darkness or be completely unaware of anything happening outdoors. Whyyyyyyyy don't we have these here? Imagine how much cooler the house would be if every window blocked the sun completely. Those with air conditioning would hardly have to use it and the rest of us poor AC-less folk wouldn't have to share the basement floor with the spiders.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Friday, July 17, 2009
New Post
There's a new post up on the travel blog. As the trip nears and begins, expect some periodic updates - internet accessibility dependent, of course.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Some pictures
From the Portland v Seattle match.
Before the gates opened. Notice there's already streamers in the sign.
Right after the national anthem. It's a party in the smoke!
Look at how many people are there!
I flung up my arms with my camera pointed behind me. Apparently the smoke was getting to some people.
After every game, win or lose, the team jogs over to the north end to thank the fans. If anyone has scored a goal, they get a slice of the log that's been sawed off for them by Timber Joey. It's a pretty nice tradition and I hope they continue it even after we move to the MLS.
Before the gates opened. Notice there's already streamers in the sign.
Right after the national anthem. It's a party in the smoke!
Look at how many people are there!
I flung up my arms with my camera pointed behind me. Apparently the smoke was getting to some people.
After every game, win or lose, the team jogs over to the north end to thank the fans. If anyone has scored a goal, they get a slice of the log that's been sawed off for them by Timber Joey. It's a pretty nice tradition and I hope they continue it even after we move to the MLS.Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Fire on the Water
My grandparents have a cabin on a lake up in Washington and every year there’s a party up there with family and their guests. There’s an indian reservation nearby so all the uncles and cousins pool their money together, pile into cars head over to stock up on fireworks that are illegal off the reservation - stuff like bottle rockets, roman candles and mortars. This year we plopped down five hundred dollars on the stuff. The kids spent literally all evening firing rockets and didn’t even come close to finishing them off. The mortars were cool as always, even if the neighbors on the lake showed us up. I can’t imagine how many thousands of dollars those guys must have spent on their display.
Most of the weekend was spent cheering up my dog who is tolerated but not exactly adored by that side of the family, swimming and trying not to get sunburned. It was hotter than I can remember it ever being at the lake, most everyone seemed to be in a good mood and I got to ride in my uncle’s new ski boat. Oh, and when I took the dog for a walk the first night I found a five dollar bill next to the road! That’s ten unearned dollars I’ve pocketed in the past week.
During the main part of the fireworks time, I scampered between the roman candle/bottle rocket lighting area and the dock, where I could see fireworks on both ends of the lake. Occasionally some of the firework lighters from our house would light a mortar off the dock and we’d have to gather up on the gangplank to avoid any shrapnel. Otherwise, it was perfectly safe. Except that someone accidently knocked over the pipe that was firing off the roman candles. Of course it would land in such a way that it was then aimed directly at the dock. My sister and I were caught in its path and I didn’t quite realize what was happening until a piece of fire went down my pants and burned my ass. Yes, that’s right. I was wearing thick, reinforced combat fatigue pants (I wore these things in Afghanistan!) with a belt, but it didn’t help. What really are the odds of one random spark ending up DOWN MY PANTS? There’s a burn mark on the inside of the pants, but not the outside. There’s a blister on my ass. I’m not joking. One in a million shot, that was.
I may head up there again this summer, since it’s only a few hours away and I’ve let everyone know that I’m bored bored bored and would love a place to swim and canoe and hang out by the fire pit, even if there are some chores involved.
Most of the weekend was spent cheering up my dog who is tolerated but not exactly adored by that side of the family, swimming and trying not to get sunburned. It was hotter than I can remember it ever being at the lake, most everyone seemed to be in a good mood and I got to ride in my uncle’s new ski boat. Oh, and when I took the dog for a walk the first night I found a five dollar bill next to the road! That’s ten unearned dollars I’ve pocketed in the past week.
During the main part of the fireworks time, I scampered between the roman candle/bottle rocket lighting area and the dock, where I could see fireworks on both ends of the lake. Occasionally some of the firework lighters from our house would light a mortar off the dock and we’d have to gather up on the gangplank to avoid any shrapnel. Otherwise, it was perfectly safe. Except that someone accidently knocked over the pipe that was firing off the roman candles. Of course it would land in such a way that it was then aimed directly at the dock. My sister and I were caught in its path and I didn’t quite realize what was happening until a piece of fire went down my pants and burned my ass. Yes, that’s right. I was wearing thick, reinforced combat fatigue pants (I wore these things in Afghanistan!) with a belt, but it didn’t help. What really are the odds of one random spark ending up DOWN MY PANTS? There’s a burn mark on the inside of the pants, but not the outside. There’s a blister on my ass. I’m not joking. One in a million shot, that was.
I may head up there again this summer, since it’s only a few hours away and I’ve let everyone know that I’m bored bored bored and would love a place to swim and canoe and hang out by the fire pit, even if there are some chores involved.
Cup Night
Since the school thing fell apart this term I’ve been pretty restricted in my activities. Not only do I have nothing to study for or anything to do downtown every weekday morning, but I don’t have any money either. But last week there were a few events that I’d either prepared for before the school crap or I was willing to splurge on.
Wednesday it was the cup match against Seattle. We’ve known for awhile that there was the possibility of this matchup, so long as we won the previous rounds of the Open Cup against some amateur or low-level pro teams. The Timbers Army did a lot of work in talking up the match and I’d even convinced three people who aren’t regulars to show up. However, a few days before the match they announced that they’d be capping attendance at 16,000 and that there weren’t many tickets left. Then the advanced tickets sold out. I called my friends and told them not to bother showing up unless they could get there well before kickoff, as it’d be miserable trying to find a seat, use the toilet or buy a beer otherwise.
One of my roommates and I got to the park fifteen minutes before the doors opened - over an hour and a half before the game was set to start. There were already hundreds of people lined up to get in and by the time the gates opened the line was stretched out of sight down the block and the crowd was chanting “Let us in! Let us in!” and booing passing Seattle fans. The singing started as soon as we got into the section and it didn’t stop until we’d left the park three hours later. Seattle actually brought down some fans this time, so we had people to chant at, even though we couldn’t hear them from our end. The people in the North End set up some pretty awesome tifo that included new flags and a display of giant cardboard cutouts that featured Timber Jim chainsawing the Space Needle. There were more smoke bombs before the match than I’ve been around all season, including one of the nasty kind that last forever and make your eyes and throat feel like it was a CS canister chucked instead of colored smoke.
Right before kickoff, the group of wannabe skinheads (the anti-racist kind at least) that are currently the bane of my existence picked my row to crowd into, despite the fact that it was already full. These guys are like my own personal black cloud; they appear at every show I go to as well as Timbers games, don’t chant (unless it’s yelling “fuck you” to the ref), don’t dance at the shows and jump anyone (male, anyway) that catches their eyes the wrong way. Immediately after shoving everyone who’d been there for over an hour out of the way, one of them got into a fight. I don’t know who started it (and frankly, I don’t care. Fact is, it wouldn’t have happened if the assholes hadn’t been there), but everyone around was pissed at the guy, tried to have him thrown out and his friends moved him closer to me to try and keep him out of trouble. During this ruckus Seattle scored a goal. So, one minute into the game, we’re losing and I’ve got a drunk, coverd-in-beer asshole squished in next to me. It threatened to ruin my evening, but when we got a goal right before halftime the celebrations cheered me up and I tried my best to not let them put a damper on the night.
In the end we lost, but it was still a good game and closer than the gap in talent between the two leagues would suggest it should of been. Portland got over 16,000 people to come out to a soccer game on a weekday evening on short notice and about a thousand Seattle fans made their first trip down for an away match in the Rose City. Not too shabby.
Wednesday it was the cup match against Seattle. We’ve known for awhile that there was the possibility of this matchup, so long as we won the previous rounds of the Open Cup against some amateur or low-level pro teams. The Timbers Army did a lot of work in talking up the match and I’d even convinced three people who aren’t regulars to show up. However, a few days before the match they announced that they’d be capping attendance at 16,000 and that there weren’t many tickets left. Then the advanced tickets sold out. I called my friends and told them not to bother showing up unless they could get there well before kickoff, as it’d be miserable trying to find a seat, use the toilet or buy a beer otherwise.
One of my roommates and I got to the park fifteen minutes before the doors opened - over an hour and a half before the game was set to start. There were already hundreds of people lined up to get in and by the time the gates opened the line was stretched out of sight down the block and the crowd was chanting “Let us in! Let us in!” and booing passing Seattle fans. The singing started as soon as we got into the section and it didn’t stop until we’d left the park three hours later. Seattle actually brought down some fans this time, so we had people to chant at, even though we couldn’t hear them from our end. The people in the North End set up some pretty awesome tifo that included new flags and a display of giant cardboard cutouts that featured Timber Jim chainsawing the Space Needle. There were more smoke bombs before the match than I’ve been around all season, including one of the nasty kind that last forever and make your eyes and throat feel like it was a CS canister chucked instead of colored smoke.
Right before kickoff, the group of wannabe skinheads (the anti-racist kind at least) that are currently the bane of my existence picked my row to crowd into, despite the fact that it was already full. These guys are like my own personal black cloud; they appear at every show I go to as well as Timbers games, don’t chant (unless it’s yelling “fuck you” to the ref), don’t dance at the shows and jump anyone (male, anyway) that catches their eyes the wrong way. Immediately after shoving everyone who’d been there for over an hour out of the way, one of them got into a fight. I don’t know who started it (and frankly, I don’t care. Fact is, it wouldn’t have happened if the assholes hadn’t been there), but everyone around was pissed at the guy, tried to have him thrown out and his friends moved him closer to me to try and keep him out of trouble. During this ruckus Seattle scored a goal. So, one minute into the game, we’re losing and I’ve got a drunk, coverd-in-beer asshole squished in next to me. It threatened to ruin my evening, but when we got a goal right before halftime the celebrations cheered me up and I tried my best to not let them put a damper on the night.
In the end we lost, but it was still a good game and closer than the gap in talent between the two leagues would suggest it should of been. Portland got over 16,000 people to come out to a soccer game on a weekday evening on short notice and about a thousand Seattle fans made their first trip down for an away match in the Rose City. Not too shabby.
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