You say “casita”, I say “cozy bungalow”

It’s been a few weeks now since we’ve gotten moved in to our newly purchased/painted/cleaned/Riley-approved little Portland home. Here are the basics:

• 704 square feet main dwelling, 480 square foot detached garage (or man-cave, if you please)
• 2 bedroom, 1 bath
• sizable backyard including a massive stump
• enormous maple tree in the front yard large enough for another resident to make a happy home in

Click on a picture to start the slideshow!

The tree is…rather large.

Welcome to bungalow town, population 3.

It even came with a dog.

Riley atop his perch.

KS installing our peephole with his new toy.

Yes indeed, the bar gets its own wall.

Enough room for two people who like each other.

Close your eyes and point, you’ll probably land on something from IKEA.

A necessary piece for any kitchen.

Our jungle grass just before move in.

Thanks to my brother and dad, much better now.

The cave where men dwell.

Riley’s other perch.

Did I mention the tree is big?

The heavy equipment used to fix our sewer line the week we moved in.

Needless to say, we’re very happy to be home. But there will always be a little piece of our hearts in SA, and we’ll be the first ones to defend Texas against the cruel stereotypes non-Texans may hold…or confirm them with an anecdote of our own.

Cheers, y’all! Someone find me a good michelada joint around here…

SA to PDX? That’s right, we’re back!

We’re back in the Pacific NW and couldn’t be happier! KS got a job with Providence Portland, which he’s already loving, and I’m on the hunt for my next great opportunity. The blog is officially back up and running, so stay tuned for adventures in home buying, re-acclimating, and plenty of delicious food cart goodness…

PDX to SA compares: Politics

Okay, I’ll grant you: this is a pretty obvious one.  In the grand stereotypes of our political arena, Oregon coming up blue and Texas showing its red is no surprise to anyone with one ear to a media outlet.  But hear me out!  There is more to see than meets the eye, even if the reality is like a tiny little blueberry tree growing in a strawberry field…anyway, here goes.

First let me give credit to one of the very promising voices I’ve encountered in Texas when it comes to local politics.  The Texas Tribune is my favorite source that combines news with a bit of liberal opinion thrown in (in this liberal’s opinion, anyway).

Clean, simple, and only one reference to the state flag.

Unlike websites like MySA, which in this reporter’s opinion has fallen victim to the local newspaper’s deadly cocktail of low funding and even lower hiring pools for objective writers, the Tribune offers news without any agenda pushing or distasteful  bias.  Their website is also quite spiffy and boasts such useful tools as an Elected Official Directory and a page aptly named Data, which is home to a slew of facts and figures surrounding Texas government, from salaries of officials to a map of the Capitol (’cause who can figure THAT place out).

Take a looksie at the Tribune if you’re curious – they’ve got some well-reported (even if not all of it actually good) news to share.  I’m also a new found fan of the Texas Observer, which bills itself as a “nonprofit news organization that specializes in investigative, political and social-justice reporting from the strangest state in the Union.”  Cheers to that sentiment.

Now don’t think my quest to uncover the mysteries of Texas politics are all about conservative bashing and finding liberal strongholds.  I will be the very first person to stand up with a Texas flag in hand to say thank you very much Governor Perry for hiring smart advisors and creating an economic climate where poor little recent college grads like us can make our way in the world and start chipping away at our Patriot Debts/College Loans.  However, I do recognize the difficulty in trying to find the social political good in a state that results in stories like this on the Daily Show (the jump is, incidentally, to the Texas Dems web site).  The economic political good is what we’re focusing on for the moment.

Compare the Daily Show jab to the story on Morning Edition today about the high quality of life even the underemployed 20-something masses of Portland enjoy.  My favorite quote from the story?  After referencing food carts, microbreweries, outdoor activities, unemployment, and using the word “half-rican”, the reporter remarks,

Turns out the stereotypes about Portland are largely true.

And so it would seem to ring true of Texas stereotypes as well.  From continued efforts to overturn Roe v. Wade to illegal immigration concerns, sometimes the stereotypes are most convenient when they’re true.  But this new (and dare I say, even proud) Texan has hope that the continued economic boom in this rouge stronghold will continue to bring young, fresh-minded citizens who send new ideas to the Capitol floor.

In the meantime, we’ll keep the BBQ and rodeo updates coming.

New places, old faces, and happy 2011

Hard to believe it, but we’ve been roughing it down south for over 9 months now, and we appear to have birthed a happy little Texas existence (going with the whole gestation period = 9 months thing…anyway).

We’ve moved into a new apartment in a much more decidedly *us* neighborhood in SA.  There’s sidewalks and lots of dog owners, and the hardwood floors are very reminiscent of our North Portland house (read: Riley’s shedded fur makes dustballs that can cut you off at the ankles).

Bitch loves him some area rug

Our neighborhood can only be described as lovely.  The houses are for the most part cottage-like, and the overall feel is very Eugene.

Cottage #1

Cottage #2

Here be Texas

In thinking about the time we’ve spent in TX so far, we appear to have completed many of the requisites one might assume, including:

• Attending a pig roast
• Getting 3rd degree sunburns at the beach
• Being attacked in our home by a pestilence of insects
• Eaten deer meat given to us by a coworker
• BBQ’d…several times
• Not worn any heavy coats during the winter months
• Eaten a lot of Mexican food
• Gotten lost on the highway
• Put a cowboy hat on our dog
• Eaten…just in general

Here's another picture of The Alamo in case you may have failed to remember it.

Texas has been very good to us so far, and every morning I wake up and it’s not raining, I remember there is more than one reason that destiny/the universe/some deity’s sense of humor has brought us to this land of plenty.

So here’s to another prosperous year in the Alamo City!

Happy new year!

PDX to SA Compares: Halloween

Here’s the simplest thing I can say about Halloween this year: now THAT was a party.

Last Halloween, we had a blast at a showing of Rocky Horror in (where else) the closest thing Oregon has to a Transylvania, Eugene.  There was hooting and hollering and random costumed party-hoppers stopping us on the street to perform lines pertinent to their costumes.  The show itself inspired us to attempt Eddie and Columbia the next Halloween, which is precisely what we did:

Hot patootie, bless MY soul.

Last year’s costumes were a bit more demure:

It was more, we're just here for the show.

Let’s just say this: what we made up for in costumes this year, we also made up for in total all around party-tude.  Let me set the scene: one of Kyle’s (awesome) co-workers owns a house in the country (no really…there’s country here).  But we didn’t have the party at his house, oh no.  He has another smaller, for lack of a better name, party house on his property, complete with a pool, a full kitchen and bedroom, gameroom, fire pit, and grill that you could roast a whole swine on.

Oh no, this? Just our spit, in case we have an additional pig to roast.

And this party is chock-a-block full of people: people from Kyle’s hospital, our host’s teenage kids and what seemed to be half the Texas class of 2014, little kids in costumes, and of course the requisite farm dog and cat wandering about.  There’s a fire pit to congregate around (oh yes, forgot to mention: most of the action is outside.  Good thing my outfit had PLENTY of fabric) and thumping music “the kids these days listen to” echoing through the forest surrounding us.  Literally if you walked more than 50 feet in any direction, you would be lost to the world and we would be forced to finish your beer.

As for the costumes, they were altogether impressive.  Our favorite costumes and people at the party had to be these lovely folks:

The sultan and his concubine, complete with excellent false boobage courtesy of eBay.

Everyone was in a great mood and we had such an awesome time.  There was also a point in the night that involved a “Pepsi Challenge” with two types of tequila, so take that for what it’s worth.

Other than the Halloween party scene, turns out there are some commonalities between our two fair cities when it comes to a love of zombies.  Granted, this year’s zombie activity was technically in Austin, but it involved someone from SA (namely yours truly) so it totally counts:

Portland zombies...

...Austin zombies. Photo credit: NoNo Joe on Flickr (click to see original photo).

A tour of downtown SA

Apparently, a vital part of living in the fine US of A is having your vital papers. The brings to mind infinite lines of tired, grumpy people queueing at the DMV only to be turned away for not having their mother’s maiden name engraved on a parchment scroll signed by Governor Perry. I embarked on completing the task of getting not one, but TWO of my vital identification created in two days: a Texas Driver’s License, and a US Passport.

To be honest, the trip to the DMV (or DPS as it’s called in Texas – why? Because things are different down here.) was boring as hell and not really worth telling the tale of. The trip to get my passport, however, brought me to downtown SA, where there are prettier buildings and more statues.

The Bexar (pronounced "Behr" like the floor stain) County Courthouse, which I was told by a coworker has been under repair like this for several years.

City Hall, where they kindly redirected me to the courthouse. Everyone there was wearing suits...and it was over 100 degrees outside. G-ross.

The view facing away from the Courthouse. You can barely tell it's Texas! Oh wait, there's the Mexican restaurant...

Yes indeed folks, it's San Antonio himself.

San Fernando Cathedral is the oldest continuously functioning religious community in Texas. And yes...it's Catholic.

Read and learn.

One year ago

So…this is what we were doing a year ago.  How quickly things do go from moving into a North Portland house with 3 friends and a pooch to moving into a San Antonio apt with all the crap we hauled from Portland…and a pooch.

A moment to reflect…don’t worry, it ends well

Can I be honest about something?  I miss Portland.  I miss Portland every day for one reason or another.  Sometimes I listen to Bon Iver or Vampire Weekend and wish it was cold enough to put on a hoodie and snuggle into our big green chair with the Pants.  Sometimes I want to see someone in skin tight jeans and know that person is a hipster, not just a normal person like me sporting faux-denim leggings.  Sometimes…I want it to rain.  Like really rain.  Not this pleasant, warm, complete-with-thunder-and-lightening kind of Texas rain, but rain that inspires a mug of tea and a pair of thick socks.

I miss the fleeting smell of patchouli and moms and their kids in matching Keens and events entitled “MindShare” where free beer flows like ideas in a burgeoning tech scene.

I miss microbrews.

I miss the big things, like riding my bike and walking places without sweating away twice the calories I burn walking there and having old friends and loving family within arms reach.  I miss little things like eating food from a cart that isn’t a taco and the existence of street level gutters.

Riley misses a world without fleas.

There’s a lot to miss when you leave a place you love.  But for every thing we miss, we think about the things we’ve gained.  Like jobs, for instance.  Flying Spaghetti Monster bless you, P-town, but you sure weren’t doing much for our sense of career advancement or financial security.  SA has given each of us the opportunity to work.  To work hard.  And earn a living working hard.

Except for Riley.  He’s a lazy SOB.

In fact, we’ve even received vindication from public radio about the wise-ness of our move:

Many Americans saw their take home income fall last year. That’s according to new numbers out from the Commerce Department. Incomes fell in 49 of the country’s 52 biggest metropolitan areas. The only areas that saw incomes rise were Washington, DC, San Antonio, Texas and Virginia Beach, Va. [From NPR’s Morning Edition]

And then there’s the people we’ve met.  People we never would have known existed if we’d kept up our happy blissful existence living in the same place.  Our minds are quietly broadened every day we live here, by people we didn’t know we needed, but who brighten our day every time we see them, in a place that is for most intents and purposes the opposite of where we thought we belonged.  And the weather?  Sweating aside, this is most certainly the tannest we’ve ever been.

Cheers, y'all.

So cheers to you, SA.  We’re here, we’re a little more queerer than the usual, and we’re here to stay…for a while at least.

PDX and SA: a Comparative Study

I’ve had this post in my head for quite a while, and I’m quite sure it will change as we observe more about our new southern home.  This list is neither comprehensive nor an attempt at judgment.  There are just many differences we’ve picked up on so far in our move that deserve to be illuminated.

The Bars

If you go to a PDX bar (okay, the bars WE go to in PDX) you will no doubt encounter small groups of people huddled at vintage-looking tables clutching a pint of microbrew or tall boy of Pabst, perhaps one or more of them sporting hipster glasses and/or a t-shirt of a band only 2 people in the NW have even heard of.  If you venture downtown, especially in the 1st/Ankeny area, you’ll see hoards of 20-somethings sporting fishnets or striped knee socks stumbling toward a food cart or pedi-cab.  Dare to visit Burnside and you’ll see the sparkling signs for Boxxxes or other various caberets where the drag queens are taking smoke breaks across the street from Dante’s.  What I’m saying is that the scene is eccletic and designed to meet the specific needs of a given group, be they hipster, young partier, or cross-dressing.

In PDX, this would be an Allagash 8% apple cider.

The scene in SA is decidedly more catch-all, and here’s what I mean: walk into most any PDX bar alone and you’ll most likely stay alone while you’re there.  People are with their crowds and tend not to stray talking to strangers.  The few conversations I’ve managed in PDX bars always ended up being with people visiting from out of town, and you can just forget the idea that anyone would buy you a drink out of the goodness of their heart.  But saunter into the Old Irish Pub here in SA and it’s a whole different story.  Everyone from the semi-employed web designers with their laptops open to the 20-year corporate America veterans looking to escape the rat race is belly up to the bar throwing playful insults across the room at each other.  Say you’re from out of town and five hands go up to buy you a $1 Shiner on draft.*  Bar patrons come in all shapes and sizes, but they’re all drinking old standards: Dos Equis dressed with lime and salt, Jaeger and Red Bull, Miller on tap.  We haven’t ventured much into the party bar scene yet, but the casual drinking scene is certainly alive and kicking.  And very friendly.

*Also, there’s no OLCC here, so bars aren’t required to serve food.  Ca-razy.

The Climate

Okay, obvious, yes.  But believe it or not, it has actually rained quite a bit since we got here.  However, the rain has the good manners to mostly happen at night and be really awesome.  It’s created a killer amount of humidity (which people have sworn up and down to me will go away) that makes my hair poof up in anger.  Also, I’ve been at the pool most every day I’m not working.  Making up for all those hours squirreled away indoors last Oregon winter contemplating my toenails.

Whitest feet south of the mason dixon line.

The Food

I know I know, you’re tired of seeing food pictures.  Well that’s just too damn bad.

Texas: where even the cheese gallops.

Schickle and I have decided that SA food on the whole is much better than we were expecting.  We were expecting the good Mexican food and BBQ of course, but we’ve be pleased as punch to find a full range of delicious burgers, sushi places, and even middle eastern/Greek fare.

The pita was...you guessed it...bigger.

But here’s the major difference: volume.  For every person in SA, there are approximately 5 restaurants (one BBQ, two Mexican, a fast food chain, and a taqueria for good measure) because I get the impression that hearty, readily available food is a big thing in Texas.  This is not to say we haven’t found (and will continue to find) eclectic and one-of-a-kind places here, but the thing about PDX that we somewhat appreciated while we were there is that pretty much EVERY place in PDX is one-of-a-kind and really excellent.  From our besties at LRBC (RIP, we shed a bacon-y tear for you today) to the knock-your-socks-off food carts and flavorful happy hours of Cuban dishes to unbeatable burger and a movie prices at McMenamins, it seems that one can do little wrong in PDX when it comes to food.  This in large part can be blamed on an overall slumping economy where restaurants flat out don’t make it without being excellent, but I prefer to just think that PDX has some food magic going on.

The Bugs

I’m going to end on this one for now because I just want to tell you all how much the bugs in Texas can absolutely go to hell and never ever come back.  The mosquitos have been treating my skin as an all you care to suck Country Buffet since we arrived, hoards of moths surround the street lights around our apartment, and the crickets, well.  The MF’ing crickets.  “Aw, they sing, isn’t that nice?” NO.  No it is not nice.  Not when they sneak into your apartment and sing their taunting little “I’m not touching you!  I’m not touching you!  But I AM in your space sucka!” at 4AM and make you wake your poor tired boyfriend to go on a killing spree.  Not when a gang of 20 of them waits at the bottom of your stairwell every night just to spring around like they’re going to attack you and your poor helpless pooch and make clicking noises as their exoskeletons hit the pavement.  Bugs in Oregon know well enough to peace the hell out lest they be drowned or frozen, and the worst things we saw in summer was the occasional fruit fly posse.  These Texas bugs have some balls, and I’m already sick of it.  So I will sit with my bug spray in hand, glowering at the impending cricket hoards.

I wish this was the cricket I meant.

And we haven’t even seen the fire ants yet.

It’s rainin’ men! Nope, just rain.

This storm just came out of nowhere!  So much different from Oregon rain, and so refreshing.  Like a good J-schooler would, I have taken the liberty of documenting the experience for your enjoyment: