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BrettCajun keeps sending me lewd text messages. This is the most recent one – a pic of him giving me kissy-face:

Actually it’s a pic of a lamprey attached to the viewing window at the Bonneville Dam fish ladders. There were also shad and salmon running when Kiri and I stopped briefly to watch:

Yep that’s a salmon in the lower right of the image – a king or chinook I think. When fish are running it means that these fish are migrating upstream from the ocean to spawn, as they are anadromous. I like critters that swarm and migrate and stuff like that. Sadly I’m missing the cicada swarm back in DC! Anyway, I’d love to work there. I used to work with the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers at Lock & Dam #15 on the Mississippi River. There were a few positions open there I had applied to when I arrived, but the fucking sequester ended those options. The Army Corps is suffering even more brutal cutbacks than other federal agencies at this time.

Kiri had a conference in that area and I tagged along for the day. While she was conferencing I decided to explore the area around Hood River to check out the neighborhoods and outlying areas should I get offered the job out there. I must say the scenery is idyllic (click on any image to embiggen!):

My brother – who lives in that area and knows the dude I’ve been interviewing with – said I needed to make a follow-up call to continue expressing interest. I had already sent a follow-up email and bro said interviews are a lot like dates, and calling is better than texting or emailing. I rarely listen to him but this time he had a good point. So I did call and was promised a return call but it never came. Interviews are a lot like dates also in that you can get an impression from non-communication as well as direct communication. And non-communication is what they do best in this region. I don’t want to be stalky, and my guess is it’s not gonna happen. I would have taken the job, but part of me is also relieved. I’d be the only gay in the village if I moved there, however scenic:

I know, I know, I need a job but I’ve also lived in remote situations away from urban gay centers before. There are mistakes I don’t need to repeat again. I hate to think I’m dependent on gay ghettos, but no matter how many close friends you have it’s also good to be around people who “get it,” who are like you. With the Internet it’s a lot easier to be gay in rural areas but having the option to hang out with others of your kind in person is crucial to mental wellness. I remember how I felt out on the cold Siberian steppes of Kazakstan as the only gay in the village. Desperation is not something that comes easy to me. I guess I’m a city gurl at heart.

My sometime dungeon master for my other D&D group I’ve been playing with in Portland is moving back to SF. He’s the third person I’ve gotten to know who is moving or who has moved. It’s a tough town to settle down in as you may have gathered by some of my posts. A lot of people come and go. The difference between a newcomer and longtime resident is who you know. This weekend I caught up with an acquaintance who helped me get my first interview when I got here. He’s recently jobless but said he’s had 17 interviews since he lost his job a few months ago. SEVENTEEN IN TWO MONTHS. I’ve only had five in nine months. I pointed out this difference and we’re meeting up later to discuss my job approach and some options.

Anyway Tom wanted to see some sights before he left so I showed him Ape Caves where I went a few weeks ago. This time I wanted to try taking more pictures deeper in the cave, where light conditions might be challenging. Some of the pics turned out all right. Here I bumped up the ISO on the camera for this spooky shot of the lower cave:

Here’s me at the entrance. It was super-rainy outside and I thought it would be dryer inside, but the cave is close enough to the surface and plenty of water was dripping inside too.

Here’s Tom looking at the glittery Fool’s Gold (iron pyrite) in a nook of Ape Caves. If you look closely (click to embiggen) at the reddish area you can see the sparkles:

In other job/life/chaos news, I will be moving from my current place soon. I had to ask my hosts (who were originally from DC) “So at what point am I imposing?” Which I think was considerate question since they’ve been allowing me to live here rent-free. They need to get working on renovations so my time here is short. Moving again, no fun.

But of course as life would have it, I have a second interview with an interactive design firm next week. It’s for a project manager job, not public affairs, but uses a lot of my skillset. The catch is it’s in a town up the Columbia Gorge, an hour’s drive from Portland. If I took the job I would not commute from Portland. I don’t even have a car, but would have to get one if I lived there. The other catch is my tricorder detects very few gays there. I wanted a life change and life hands me change. Anyway I will certainly be moving out, but as to where we shall see. I have other lovely local hosts in town, or I may end up moving to the Gorge.

This is just satire, but I really really really wish it was real:

Last weekend I went to the Mount St. Helens Ape Cave Lava Tube with some friends. It’s a popular attraction in the Mount St. Helens National Monument and the longest lava tube in the continental United States at over two miles in length. Here’s my spelunker buddies Shawn and Trevor ready to ascend at the main entrance:

A headlamp and/or good flashlight with fresh batteries is recommended. Warm clothes, pants and a raincoat too (it’s drippy inside). From the main entrance to the caves, I recommend doing the Lower Cave first which is an easier hike and gives you an idea of whether you can handle more. You turn around and go back to the main entrance, and from there can choose to do the Upper Cave. It’s 1.5 miles underground, but a lot of scrambling over rock falls and a little climbing too. It was quite a workout but the inside of a lava flow was cool. Then you hike back to the parking area above ground. This was the exit from the Upper Cave area:

The ladder out can be seen in the lower left of the image. Then it’s the same distance hike overland on the way back. A lot of the geography around the cave reminded me of Iceland, albeit with a lot more trees.

Kiri and I went on a short overnight test hike to the Siouxon Trail in the Gifford Pinchot National Forest in Washington state. It was the first hike I did when I arrived to the Portland area, and is a lovely hike with two waterfalls and nice scenery. The photo on the left is from the trip in October, and the one on the right from last week. You can see the difference in spring stream flow. Click to embiggen:

This national forest includes the Mount St. Helens National Volcanic Monument, which also has tons of trails and interesting volcanic features.

I normally don’t try to start campfires, as I’ve seen wilderness campsites denuded of vegetation from too much wood gathering. But it was cold and clammy out so I gave it a try. Oregon wood is pretty much soaked through and it took an hour and a whole box of matches to light. So I think I will go back to my no campfire rule because it’s also too much effort. I have a camp stove for cooking and boiling water.

I also found out Grampaw Jimbo needs a new comfy camping mattress. My Ridgerest/Thermarest combo doesn’t do the trick anymore – I was sore all over from trying to sleep on it. Plus it takes too much space in my pack. Kiri had a large inflatable setup that takes 1/4 of the space that I want to buy. It’ll be worth it to get one of those instead.

Oh hi! The sun came out last week in Portland and everyone – including myself – went absolutely bonkers. The temperatures went beyond 70 and the sky was absolutely clear. When that happens you go outside no matter what and absorb as much sunlight as possible, because the next day is likely to be grey and dreary. But I think we actually had three solid days of wonderful sunlight. I hear tell it’s been a merciful winter and spring in terms of cloud cover and precipitation. I haven’t found it to be that much worse than winters in DC, which were almost as gloomy and certainly more grey. But then again I have the time to go outside every day even on cloudy days, which still helps with winter blues.

Before the bike ride on the sunny day where the above photo of Mt. Hood was taken, I went out snowboarding again with Kiri, on the slopes of the same mountain. Since it was the second trip of the season my body was in better shape and I had fun, but I still board on the safe side as an accident would be catastrophic. I suppose I could cloister myself in my room to be absolutely safe, but that wouldn’t be good in terms of mental health either. So I recreate. Lord knows I have the time for it. I don’t think I’ve been in this good shape in a while.

And I went hiking with some pals up the Columbia Gorge at Starvation Creek State Park, which had a lot of purdy views. Here’s me being bossy or making a point or something:

I had a chat with my friend who owns the house I’m living in about housing. They’re friends from DC and I’ve been able to crash at their place in a small room rent-free, although I do help out with the utilities. But it’s going on seven months and I was wondering “at what point am I imposing?” So I asked. They want to move forward with renovations by June, and will need the space I’m taking at the moment. So I gotta move on, job or not. I have some options. I’ve been avoiding temping in lieu of keeping up a focused job search for something that I really want to do and get paid well for, but little has come up.

I haven’t heard from the place where I interviewed last week, but it’s only been a week. I followed up with a nice thank-you note and continued interest in the position (and I really am interested in the position). So we’ll see. But it was three months between job interviews, which isn’t a promising rate.

“Give it a year,” someone said to me recently. I’d rather not have the second half of that year doing a job I don’t like, but it may become a necessity. I’ve been looking back to DC for Federal jobs like the one I left, but even those aren’t opening up due to government cutbacks. And I’d rather not move back, but if there’s work I might have to. I worked hard to forge a career path that I enjoy and pays well, and I don’t want to sully my resume with job experience at Dairy Queen or Kinko’s Copies.

I start my volunteer job next week at a homeless LGBT shelter in Portland that provides services and training to get the kids off the street. I will be working the front desk answering the phone and directing the clients to services available at the center and elsewhere in Portland. It took a couple months for them to put me in a position to fill. To give you an idea of the job market in Portland for just volunteer positions, here’s how it went: I went to an orientation session with 20 other people, mostly college-age kids looking to get some experience in social services to boost their resumes. All of them were attentive and eager to work. But all they could tell us in the orientation that all current volunteer positions had waiting lists. I filled out an extensive application with a background check, and went through two interviews, followed by a two-hour long training session, and another to follow. It was a more extensive process than a lot of positions I’ve filled for pay. So in other words, the job market is so bad in Portland the competition is stiff even for jobs without pay.

I went snowboarding at Mt. Hood Meadows this week with Kiri. I also have a ’stache now. Click to embiggen:

Strangely, the ’stache looks gingery without the rest of the beard. Or perhaps I’m turning ginger? That would be awesome.

This article about a resurgence of masc gay bros is pretty good – I mean from the point of being good investigative journalism. I’m not sold on ‘gaybros’ concept though, but the article is well-written. You should read it all the way through though before judging. The money quote is towards the end:

“As Michael Warner writes in The Trouble with Normal, ‘queers do not have the institutions for common memory and generational transmission around which straight culture is built. Every new wave of queer youth picks up something from its predecessors but also invents itself from scratch. Many are convinced that they have nothing to learn from old dykes and clones and trolls, and no institutions … ensure that this will happen.’ Take that with the generational void caused by AIDS, and you have a perfect recipe for a generation who rejects “gay culture” while knowing little, if anything, about it.”

I remember one of my first ventures into a gay bar in Madison, Wisconsin around the age of 20. As I leaned back against the wall defensively I recall thinking “I’m not like these people.” I eventually got over it. Granted, we don’t have to all embrace camp culture and RuPaul’s Drag Race, and our true interests, hobbies and lifestyles are our own. But I think being gay is special and it’s important to embrace being unique in a world that is predominantly heterosexual. We are different, and no amount of trying to pass as straight will change that. Modeling your life after a heterosexual male gender stereotype while eschewing a perceived stereotype of homosexuality seems like a waste of time, and rather dull to boot.

I made my beet cupcakes last week for my Portland Dungeons & Dragons gang. I found gummi hearts and added little green stalks to make them look like love beets (click to embiggen). One person in our group is allergic to gluten so I made them with gluten-free flour substitute. I think they turned out all right but like most gluten-free goods they feel heavy in your stomach. But you can put buttercream frosting on a rock and it’ll taste good.

In my last post about intercultural observations from an outside perspective on Portland, I may have seemed a bit harsh. My goal with the post was to try to point out differences, and that differences can be challenging for anyone when experiencing a new environment. But I learned that some Portlanders are also sensitive to critique, which may or may not be a cultural generalization.

Anyway, there are plenty of things I do like here, and some neutral observations that I hope don’t come off as offensive to those who carry concealed weapons here, as I’m told they often do in Portland. But then again there were plenty of guns and knives in DC but that didn’t stop me from running my mouth. Anyway, here are some pluses:

• Beards. Lots of epic legendary beards. No more of those 4-day stubble I don’t want my DC lawfirm to disapprove of punk-ass beards. Big giant wonderful beards.
• There are lots of entrepreneurs here. I’ve met a guy who runs his own bakery, a food truck guy, and many others. It’s been interesting to meet them, and I didn’t run across many entrepreneurs in DC.
• The food here is incredible, and probably wasted on my low-class tastes, but I’ve eaten at some pretty good joints so far.
• Independent coffee shops are everywhere, usually with cute bearded baristas serving you. See beard comment above.
• Easy and quick access to outdoor recreation like hiking and snowboarding.

On our weekly hike we went to Aldrich Butte which overlooks the Cascade Locks on the Columbia River. There were remains of an old World War II lookout at the top, and a nice view too.

I haven’t gotten out snowboarding yet but we are waiting for better powder conditions. My contemporaries here are pretty fussy about snow quality, and the season here runs later than on the East coast so I’m willing to wait. I have been doing core body strengthening exercises to prepare as best I can.

I’ve scrapped the idea of playing rugby in the spring. While it would be a great way to meet people and work off some steam, I still don’t have a job yet and thus no major health insurance coverage. A major injury would be devastating to me at this point, and I’ve learned I don’t play well with that thought in the back of my head. USA Rugby membership does include a degree of health insurance protection with a membership, but I’d feel safer with more reliable insurance.

Some other observations:

• They day “yeah yeah yeah” to convey agreement, which is kind of endearing.
• Since it rains a lot, the city center doesn’t smell like stale urine like in DC or San Francisco, but there are a lot of moldy houses.
• I smell weed everywhere, although I don’t partake. I call it the “funky skunk” smell, and it is strong here.
• There will be a push for gay marriage in Oregon in 2014.
• The bartenders here serve ridiculously strong drinks. This is often a good thing, but sometimes regretted.

I’m still on the job hunt, and I’m approaching six months of unemployed status. I recently dipped into some of my 401k savings to go a little further. I’m getting the feeling there are hundreds of applicants to the jobs I’m applying to, which is a bit dispiriting. But I’m told the job situation here is better than it was a few years ago. I just don’t have the network here that I had in DC to hear about those jobs that aren’t widely advertised to get the jump on an opening, or to get my resume on someone’s desk through a friend or acquaintance. But I’m finding at least two jobs a week that I’m qualified for an interested in and sending those applications through. Still haven’t heard from the interview I had in Salem in December, but see my application is still in review. At least that’s what the application website says. Keep swimming…

Danggit I slept through the inauguration! Thankfully the Internets are there to keep me informed. Here’s dreamy Beau Biden (at right) featuring Beyonce:

Umm…nothin’ much else to say here. I’m survivin’ the winter. It’s actually been sunny here the last few days, with spooky ice fog at night. On the winter depression front, I seem to be doing OK so far, but ask me again in late February or March. DC wasn’t that much less gloomy than Portland in the winter, it’s just that Portland has more rain. So my previous winter mood management techniques like working out regularly and getting outside seem to be working. I also have the luxury of being able to go outside in the day to catch whatever rays I can, which I’m sure helps a lot.

Here’s another pic from my Seattle trip, me and Hester after a long night of dancing at the club:

Still no full-time job, but I may be doing some part-time contract work doing media pitches. I don’t necessarily need the cash, but it gives me something to do, keeps me in practice in my skills, and is interesting work.

Happy Holidays and all that. It’s been a while for me and for other bloggers too, but it looks like BrettCajun redesigned his blog with a new look!

I had an interview last week, which seemed to go well but was right before the holidays so I haven’t heard back from them yet. We shall see. I’ve decided to volunteer in the mean time with a homeless youth shelter/program that serves a lot of LGBT people. The downside is that they have a waiting list for volunteer positions – I will be going for an interview for that tomorrow. It will give me something to do and meet people as well.

This is Theo, one of the three kittehs in our house. He was being naughty and climbing the Christmas tree:

There are two other cats in the house too. One is Pepper who is warming up to me, and the other one is Izzy who is terrified of me. I call him “Scared Kitty.” We are pretty sure he was traumatized in a previous home, we’re guessing by a bearded male as he scurries away in my presence.

The roomies wanted to get cats beforehand but got them sooner as we have critters in the attic. Once they get all their shots they will be set loose in the attic to scare them away. I suspect the critters are squirrels, but want to get a wildlife viewing camera for my birthday to catch them on film. Then I can post critter pics on this here blog.

There is holly in Portland everywhere. It loves this climate and looks seasonally festive this time of year:

Hiking is wetter and colder nowadays but we still get out and about. This is from the Eagle Creek trail up the Columbia Gorge:

The waterfalls along that trail were very scenic.

Kiri and Mary were driving down to Los Angeles for Thanksgiving with their family and offered a ride. I could use the sunshine anytime and Portland had been mighty murky lately so I took ‘em up on the offer. The drive down wasn’t too scenic as it was raining cats and dogs, and we didn’t even get to see Mt. Shasta. The California Central Valley smelled bad going down and coming back up too, just like vomit. I wasn’t impressed. But Los Angeles was nice and sunny as promised and I had Thanksgiving dinner with an old rugby/blogging friend and his family and interesting friends, and got to hang out with the Lovely Dingo and his new squeeze. We went to the Japanese Town and stopped by at the Hello Kitty store for some cuteness:

Photo by Mr. Dingo Pup.

After L.A. I broke away from the grrrls and drove over to San Francisco to meet up with some friends, including Moby. Well, the ONLY reason I went to California was to meet up with Moby so we could talk about BrettCajun, and boy did we gossip for hours over cocktails. “OMG gurl blah blah blah gurl did you hear what she did? Blah blah blah ’squishy’ blah blah blah tennis…” Etc. It was exquisite and well worth the trip right there.

But the cities were wearing on me so I decided to head north for some nature, which was a good thing I cut loose early as the trip back to Portland took longer than expected. The roads were windy and the weather was foul the rest of the way, but I got some beautiful pictures:

This was the coast just north of San Francisco, you can barely see S.F. in the distance.

Most of the coastal towns were expensive getaways for people from the Bay area, but as you drove further north the towns got smaller and more genuine in my opinion. My favorite community was Point Arena:

On one foggy night where I was tired of driving I was forced to stay in a luxury resort with a private stretch of coastline. This is bull kelp washed up on the shore:

I had brought my camping gear with me, and wanted to camp on the shore so I could hear the surf. But the locals had warned me of a Storm of the Decade that was coming, which I scoffed at as the sky was clear and the moon was full. But I didn’t sleep well in my tent, possibly worried about the storm or perhaps no longer able to sleep on the ground at my advanced age. Tent structural failure came at 6am due to high winds making for a rude, wet awakening the next morning. The surf was pounding the shore and it was raining hard, so I threw my gear in the car and continued to head north and inland to the Humboldt woods to see the giant trees.

On the way up I spotted some harbor seals. Can you see the black oystercatcher behind the seal? Click to embiggen:

The rain continued as I stopped by one of those giant redwoods that the locals gutted and turned into a tourist attraction. You could maybe drive a Ford Festiva through it:

The redwoods left to themselves were more impressive:

I spotted some elk as well:

It was a memorable trip but by the end of it I was ready to be back in my own bed in Portland.