portland fauna.

Before we get too far, you probably shouldn't consider this to be anything at all like a primer on Portlanders. Just like this blog offers our highly selective take on what makes our Puddletown great, this is just our view of the folks we run into regularly around town. Look at it more as a heads-up for what to expect, a way to fit in with the locals. Or it could be a cautionary tale. Depending on your point of view.

Everyone in town has a project - most have more than one. Geeking out about your favorite obscure subject is de rigeur, as is indie craftiness. Projects lead to collaborations (because anywhere you go, you are bound to see at least three people you know from somewhere). Collaborations lead to grand schemes. Grand schemes lead to booze. Booze leads to food. That's pretty much the trifecta of local interest - discipline-defying projects, food, booze. And there is pretty much a festival for each of them. The best combine all three. That's why we headed out to the annual Adult Soapbox Derby (not adult like strip clubs - though in Portland, its not a bad idea to ask first.) Art cars careening down Mt. Tabor past throngs of jeering, drinking Portlanders. Some crash, others collapse mid-course, and some lazily roll down the hill (because they are shaped like taquerias).

But walking around, it is pretty easy to feel that Portland has embraced its stereotypes enthusiastically (while still maintaining a standoffish distance of aloof irony and too-cool apathy). Bikes, tattoos, beer, babies, dogs, hipsters (and a heady dose of d.i.y.-daredevil recklessness). Hell, in my mind, there are much worse stereotypes.


PDX Adult Soapbox Derby '07 from stumptownpanda and Vimeo.

Counterpoint.

In the true spirit of one who is about to pledge her love and support to a certain P-erson, I would now like to contradict everything that certain someone has been saying for the past few months.

Well, not everything.

We're getting married, it is true. We (Patrick) did make all of those invitations that you now have in your hands/on your fridge/framed in your living room. We (Patrick) did want to have a summer wedding after seeing those admittedly dapper suits the Decemberists wore. And we (Patrick...okay, me too) did get the hell out of the country when the two-month-mark rolled into town.

However, I would just like to say that we have done it all with, I think, a lot less stress and heartache than one stereotypically associates with planning the "happiest day of your life." I read Harry Potter the entire time Pat printed those invitations. Wedding planning has not barred our participation in an assortment of fine activities (Exhibit A: the Decemberists concert). As for going to Vancouver...the nightmarket was a much stronger pull than panic about the wedding was a push. Things have been busy, yes. But, things are always busy during this time of year, it being summer and all - that glorious time of year when the excessive sunshine makes everyone shockingly social.

The fact that at times this summer I have wanted to draw back blissfully into wintry hibernation has stemmed only in part from the wedding planning. When it comes down to it, I have actually been enjoying the process, enjoying the planning - and I like being with Patrick now more than ever. I may be going out on a limb here, but I would say Patrick has been having a pretty good time as well.

The reason I feel the need to write this is that people have been asking me lately (more and more as the wedding gets closer) how things are going, whether I am nervous or even panicked, how I am dealing with the insurmountable stress that planning this wedding must certainly bring. I find myself falling into the role everyone seems to expect - making faces and talking about how much work it has all been, how crazy it is making me and how I will be so glad when it is all over. I actually have to stop myself from saying these things, because the truth is, I don't feel this way at all.

If I have learned anything during the wedding planning, it is that the wedding industry has created the self-perpetuating monster that is the modern-day-wedding. When did we decide that a couple has one day to show the world how exciting, romantic and glorious their relationship is (and that they must show this by throwing the most lavish party possible and making themselves miserable along the way)? Seriously, treating the wedding as the ultimate measure of how happy a couple is and how successful a marriage will be is akin to expecting winning the title of Prom Queen to decide your future happiness and popularity. I never did win, so I guess you can say I'm a pretty hopeless case at this point.

For the record, I would just like to say that this wedding will not be the end all be all snapshot of P and my relationship, and I couldn’t be happier about that. It will, however, be a pretty great party. Now bring on that sangria; it is August, after all, and I think I'll have another glass.

nightmarket.

perhaps a little too much wedding.

Maybe it is a bad sign that when we go to a concert now, all we can think to say to each other is, "We should have had a summer wedding - those suits look so damn dapper!"