Wednesday, January 7, 2009

Routine Narrative

Routine: Walking to Stumptown and The Ace to brainstorm. 

Start 351pm

Getting ready to leave, I'm always running late- I noticed the clock and I would like so say that I left that very moment, but really I had to grab a few more things before I was out the door. 

Immediately outside my door I look across the street. It's the fire station. I can see a big screen TV through the window. Someone is watching TV.

I turn towards sixth street and I am briefly serenaded by the music next door- the PSU outdoor center. It's a garage filled with outdoor equipment. They are always playing loud music, but it's ok because it's usually good music.

As I turn onto sixth I am walking toward the Ondine dorm. It seems like there are always really young kids outside that dorm. Even though they are probably not more than a year younger than me, it seems so long ago when I lived in a dorm. But I was one of those "kids." I always have memories of the university of idaho when I walk past that dorm. 

Along my entire walk I notice the bikes. I have my mom's old mountain bike. I'm kind of self conscious about it because everyone in Portland is all about bikes. So I compare my bike to all the other bikes along my way. It's kind of like window shopping. 

As I walk down sixth I notice all the sounds. I don't really like to walk with my ipod because I like to listen to the sounds of the world. Ha. But it's true. On my left there is the sound of bikes and cars passing. In front and behind me I can hear clicking heals, trudging boots, and swishing clothes. 

I walk past the nicest McDonalds ever and then I get annoyed because I have to unnecessarily cross the street because of construction.  I'm big on walking efficiently, but the construction make me walk inefficiently. 

I am also annoyed by the drizzly rain that makes my hair extra frizzy. 

One of the reasons I walk to Stumptown is because I've had some anxiety problems and one of the solutions is to get out of my house. So as I am walking I can actually feel my chest  loosen as the anxiety disappears.

I turn up toward Broadway and I notice the beautiful old PSU buildings. The upper walkways play with the light. I love the shadows that they cast. 

I love this area, from my house to the park blocks. It is the area where I run into people I know. It feels really busy during school. Everyone is making progress, it seems. I like the way that feels. 

I walk up through campus (from broadway to park), under the walkways. Its a brief escape from the rain. 

In the park blocks. I pass the view, where my old friend Kristy lives. We had a falling out, so it kind of hurts to be reminded of her. We live so close.

I can feel the cobble stones beneath my feet. It reminds me that I have poorly made shoes.

I have several unreasonable anxieties. One of them is that whenever I walk across the street car tracks I worry that it will ring its bell at me. So when I walk through the park blocks and across the tracks, I half hope I will see the street car (so I wouldn't have to walk the whole way), but I half hope I wont (so it wont ring its bell at me). It is a ridiculous internal conflict that I have all the time. 

I also have a semi-irrational fear about being ticketed for jay walking. In the park blocks I go exactly to the white striped crosswalk. It brings to mind the scenario I often play out in my head while walking. A lot of the time I cross the street before the signal portrays the walk signal, but I cross from corner to corner and I look both ways. My friend once told me that he got stopped for jay walking, which probably triggered my irrational fear of getting ticketed for jay walking. In my head I plan out what I would say to the cop that stopped me. I would want to be condescending  and say something like "Well my mother taught me to stop, look, and listen before crossing from corner to corner." But in reality I would be super polite.

As I keep walking I pass the art museum. I love the art museum, for the most part, but I really don't like one of the out door sculptures. It is out front and really colorful  in a cartoony way. It reminds me of colorful bacon. I think that it makes the museum look stupid because the sculpture is not visually pleasing- in my opinion. 

After I pass the museum, I often look to my right- over the Schnitz- to look at the Hilton peeking out over the top. I can see the Hilton from many places around Portland. I love the Hilton sign. Its neon lights makes it look old-ish, like the typography of old hollywood or something. 

407p

At the end of the park blocks I turn up to tenth. There is an old apartment building that reminds me of the movie Requiem for a Dream because during the summer a group of old people sit outside smoking cigarettes, like the Mother and her friends in the movie. I haven't seen them out there in a long time, though, because of the weather.

I hear the street car and I hope it doesn't ring its bell at me. A wave of anxiety comes over me.

Taylor and Tenth

Outside the Central Library smells like cigarettes. There are trees out front, but no grass at the base of the trees. I always wonder why they city doesn't plant some. It would make the library look so much better. Maybe it gets ruined too quickly by the sidewalk traffic. Maybe they city doesn't want homeless people sleeping there. That would be a sad reason in my opinion. I notice the dirty bikes. There are always dirty bikes in front of the library. It makes me feel less self conscious about my own bike.

I hear the max bell. It signals some anxiety because there are many times when I've had to run for the max. The bell means I'm too late.

I hear yelling. It is a woman. She looks homeless. She is screaming at the top of her lungs. It makes me a little uncomfortable. But what makes me the most uncomfortable is that I can't do anything about it. I feel annoyed by her yelling, but also guilty for feeling annoyed. The woman probably cant do anything about her situation.

Jake's restaurant smells so good at all hours of the day. It's such a contrast to the smell of the transient filled central library area, but they are so close in vicinity. I wonder if that is morally wrong.

413p

I notice my bag with computer in tow is becoming a burden to my shoulder. I can see pita pit, so I'm almost there. 

10th and Stark

I used to love this street corner. But now when I walk by it I feel a pang of pain. I used to work at the Living Room Theaters. I loved that place and a worked really hard, going above and beyond my job description to make it look nice. Business-wise they are a little unorganized, but that allowed me to have more freedom to help them get organized. One day I was fired. I was fired because someone told the owner that they heard me say that I let my friends in to see free movie all the time. Which isn't true. Either someone made it up, or the owner just needed a reason to fire me and he made it up. There was no discussion, I was just fired. No solid reason, no closure. I try not to see me reflection in the theater's glassy windows.

I built my whole Portland world around my job there. Now it hurts to even walk by it. 

I turn away from LRT toward The Ace Hotel and Stumptown coffee- my destination for brainstorming. As I walk inside the taint of the theater memories and anxiety disappear. It smells like roasting coffee and the lighting is dim. It's such a comforting environment. I cant wait to sit and think for a while.

416p

      

    

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