Magazines. Magazines are my problem. Or, more to the point, buying them and not reading them. Then hoarding them, fearing that if I get rid of one, that project to make a light out of styrofoam peanuts that was in that one issue of Ready Made might just be the end of me if I don't have it.

Last night I was ever-so-slowly working my way through a teetering stack of magazines. (Two down, 23 to go! Woo hoo!) I polished off Found pretty quickly, as it was not a favorite; the topic was crime and there's only so many mug shots you can find amusing, or sob stories about how someone knows they are a dumb ass for doing what they did and ending up in jail. But it brings up a topic I've often considered interesting, perhaps even enticing: correspondence with the incarcerated. Not so much because of a fascination with the bad boys, but the pure emotional turmoil that such facilities must generate. What could we learn from the human condition from those on the inside, without having to go to such realities ourselves? (And did someone slip some drugs into my drink? How did I get here?)

There are two stereotypes that stick in my mind: an uneducated redneck female who thinks men in jail are just misunderstood opportunity waiting to happen. Perhaps she likes the bad boys, perhaps she has Daddy issues, or perhaps she has a savior complex and an ex-con would fit the bill nicely. Then I think of the candy-cane-sweet Christian suburbanite who thinks bestowing her benevolence on the interred is a good way to prove her piousness and secure a slot in heaven.

I'm sure neither of those are true or fair, but as we all know I can be cynical. Just sometimes.

Anyone out there ever done the jail house penpal thing? Why? Anyone want to do it? I'd be curious to learn about others experiences, because it seems to stick in my head as a great topic to write on. I just might do that... so if you HAVEN'T done it and want to OR have done it and would be willing to share your thoughts and experience with me, let me know.

Next was Giant Robot, a magazine I cannot say no to, despite the fact that I am NOT the target demographic: 20 something Asian Americans. Perhaps it's the latent desire to be a Japanese school girl (if reincarnation is real, THAT'S the card I want to draw next time) or the unavoidable attraction to all things kawaii.

Today is a perfect Oregon winter day. It began overcast, then cleared up to stunningly bright sunshine which caused the dogs to squint, and then sitting at my desk I hear little sounds; I look out to see the sun still shining brightly but little chips of ice falling from the sky. Now, five minutes later, it's overcast again.

WTF? I think I'll go see Lars and the Real Girl today at Salem Cinema.

God, I love that podcast. I'd heard it on NPR, but thanks to them opening the podcast up for free this past year, I've been able to enjoy each and every one. "Home Alone" is killing me. If you ever listen, please support it. A dollar. Two. Maybe ten. Or spend big. Just do it.

Breaking away from the tv, a habit I've slumped into as the days got shorter and this left me more unmotivated to do much when I got home. Small simple lists for each night. Tonight was posting some items on eBay. Listen to TAL. Work on cleaning out my desk. Write thank you cards. Fun stuff.

And now, to test my skills with... soldering. I want to create a unique attachment on a piece I made recently, and I think soldering a jump ring onto the mid-back might do it. As I've never done this before, I'm going to play around on some scrap before I try it for real.

Last night was a wonderful continuation of the holiday season; we dined with friends at home, whipping up a traditional French fondue followed by a dark chocolate fondue w/ notes of coffee and Baileys. YUM.

Somehow we ended up on a run of documentaries; we've found a number of them really great NetFlix picks. I highly recommend "F*ck", a very amusing, entertaining and yes, educational look at language and culture. The panelists they flip between are awesome, from Ron Jeremy to Miss Manners.

I have so many things I want to blog about right now, but so little time to do it. How's that work!?

A gem I wanted to share was a visit to Vegetarian House in downtown PDX while Pat and Jon were here. We'd poked around Powell's, hopped the streetcar around the free zone, oogled property we could never afford, and poked around in Sur la Table. Despite drooling over many amazing kitchen gadgets we did not need, we only purchasing a set of Oxo canisters to replace the Rubbermaid set as I'd set the flour on a hot stove burner. It was time to eat. We ambled a few blocks down to Chinatown. It's amusing how just blocks away from multi-million dollar condos in the Pearl is this hellhole of an area--and to think, it used to be worse. On the corner is the shuttered Cindy's Adult Bookstore, a ratty looking shit-hole. Behind is a string of three restaurants. Sandwiched between two Asian joints with rather unappetizing smoked whole ducks hanging in the windows lies Vegetarian House. Oh, the irony.

We'd found the place thanks to a quick search for a veggie place downtown. Inside was neat as a pin, very modest and simple decoration. The service was brisk and efficient, and as Pat pointed out, the reverent nature of the setting was very relaxing and peaceful. The dishes were great; for a light lunch we shared hot and sour soup, and the "medium" bowl was enough for four of us to each have two small bowls. Faux crab rangoons were creamy and delicious, and the snow peas and water chestnuts stir fried with garlic was yummy. A wonderful light lunch. The tables beside us had fantastic looking, ample sized dishes. While there are plenty of veggies on the menu, a feature is the faux meats -- and they are pretty amazing. Some are sold in a freezer case they also sell items to go. We picked up some faux shrimp to try at home.

One amusing element is the presence of material promoting Supreme Master Ching Hai. From the flat screen hanging on the back wall that shows odd (if not peaceful) footage from Supreme Master Television (which on this day was showing a very amusing show of people loving and frolicking with their pet parrots) to the poster in the front window that looks like a dial-a-psychic line promo... it's just a quirky little addition making it all the more fun of an experience. Yum!

Then we hit Powell's Tech Books on the way back. OMG I could have stayed there for days and spent a month's paycheck.