I Got a Job In Portland!

Except it's really in LA. Some crazy people called while I was in San Fran on Friday and tricked me into a twenty minute phone interview. It's for a show about the Cannes Film Festival--apparently mostly in French. Being that I'm on vacation, and that I don't speak French, I told them to call my friend Celine because, well, she was looking for a job and happens to be fluent in French.

The trio of crazies that interviewed me on the phone said, "Wow! She speaks French? Great! We'll take her...and you!" They officially offered me the job this morning, while I was trying to relax in the schoolroom I'm staying. It's kind of sad, but it's only for three weeks....and it certainly will not be worse than the drudgery of The Show That Shall Remain Unnamed.

Meanwhile, Jon and I are really trying to experience all that Portland has to offer. We went to Powell's. It's the biggest bookstore I've ever seen--spanning one city block three or four stories tall. I don't even know how to explain how insane the parking situation was. There's honking horns involved and numbered spaces and sharp turns and unruly patrons and unrulier parking attendants. (He actually said when I pulled in: "You've never been here before, have you? I can tell.") I hate him and everyone at Powell's.

After we left Powell's, we decided to go check out this world-famous rose garden. In the pouring rain. I nearly drowned.

I need a non-rain-soaked drink and a towel.