You're Going To Have To Lose That Leg, Son

About six or seven weeks ago I drew a conclusion which led to a decision. The process was rather akin to a doctor's decision to amputate a gangrenous leg - at least, as I imagine it. It's all very Gone with the Wind in my mind. (A couple of weeks after that, I had the correctness of both conclusion & decision unequivocally confirmed, but that's a whole 'nother bowl of beans.)

The strange part is, after losing the leg, I feel like the doctor bestowed laser-shooting nipples on me as recompense. Everything in my life has suddenly become fantastic. And I've been really, really happy. Not to mention, I've had the greatest idea EVER (well, okay...Trish, we can be tied for first. Oh, BTW, just to validate my fabulous idea - as if it needed validation - according to an 8 August post on my beloved Portland food blog, "This just in, Oregon Cheeses won over 22 awards at the annual American Cheese Society Conference held last week in Burlington, Vermont, including 7 first place prizes in various categories. Woo-Hoo!" Dude, I'm so right on here).

Anyway. My world has gone totally butt-crazy D.I.S.C.O. on me. Even though nothing truly substantive has changed in my day-to-day, it's like that one choice has freed me to really enjoy life for the first time in well over a year. Although a cynic might say that this is because I've rather wantonly spent hundreds of dollars in the past weeks buying fabulous useless things for myself, & living in the pursuit of such is bound to make one momentarily happier, I am not that cynic. And random wonderful things just keep happening.

For instance: on Saturday, my folks & brother came up to take me out to a (belated) birthday lunch. My birthday, my choice. I picked a Mexican joint in NE PDX called Autentica. Why? Well, to be frank, because I've never really actually been to NE Portland, save to sate a long-ago Saturday's hungover craving for a po' boy. I'm a bit embarrassed, but the reason is that the part of NE I want to go to is about four whole miles from my apartment. A bit too far to walk unless I'm totally juice. I don't know which buses run there. And I hate driving.

Anyway, so I used my lunch as an excuse to go to Northeast. I'll be brief, but it was fucking excellent. Delicious. Tasty. Pleasant. Everybody was happy, except maybe my father. The margarita was a wee bit light on tequila, & the service was, erm, "relaxed". But the food was amazing. I got the pollo en consome rojo (chicken in a dried chili broth) & a sope con chorizo, crema y queso (hand-made tortilla with chorizo, cream & cheese). I definitely want to go back for dinner - their dinner menu looked even more astounding. Mmmm....

Afterward, I suggested a brief jaunt about the neighborhood. My father, brother & I strode off. I espied a vintage store that was kitty corner to Autentica & decided to stop in. (The store had some pretty awesome furniture, decently priced...like a huge art deco armoire for $600...I need to go back.) Whilst exploring the store, I saw these boots...these fantastic faux leopard-skin boots. Usually, when you see those things, they're always in a size 6. But these fit! And beautifully! And they looked brand-new! And they were only $12!

Clearly, those boots were my very destiny. That's why I insisted on Northeast. That's why I wanted to stroll about after lunch.

So it's stuff like that, which just seems to keep happening. It's like all this shiny, sparkling, flashing stuff is falling into my life - the best birthday EVER, Dirty Dancing at the Laurelhurst, Heather moving to Portland, Misty deciding to come to Burning Man (& also me going to BM in the first place!), the full-length faux fur coat from the 70s, the disco bar, shiny gold dresses, black halter dresses with sparkly gold spots, red snakeskin stockings, shiny dining room chairs, amazing ideas...the list, seriously, goes on. Hey, I'm not complaining. Look:


I'm just so happy to be happy. It's been too long! Cheers to draining the festering sores out of life.