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This week featured the first real snow day I've had in a long time. Dropping the normal Portland cold drizzle/mist for a while, Tuesday morning I got up to two or three inches on the ground. It didn't even occur to me that school would be cancelled, but there it was.

I went out to walk around the South Park Blocks and take a few pictures. I wasn't alone; I think 85% of the people in the park had cameras. A group had gathered around the statue of Lincoln to get shots of a seagull that was perched perfectly straight on top of Abe's head. One photographer scared him away, and that was that.

I've been a bum about writing so I'm just going to make this a quick rundown of my summer.

Mid-May, my friend Josh paid me a visit from St. Louis. The idea was to sit down together and spend a whole weekend brainstorming music and hanging out. In the past, this has never been too fruitful (in terms of getting music recorded) but this time things actually worked out well. We stayed up late that Friday night setting up equipment, eating food, and sharing a few drinks. The next day, we caught lunch, shopped around, and relaxed around my house listening to old records. As a Yaz song played in the background, I joked that we should play this... and so we did... It was the song "Too Pieces", a non-single best I can tell. I think it turned out pretty good but more than anything it was good to just get a collaborative flow going with Josh. We ended up making that Saturday a late night and worked on some of Josh' stuff the next day.

In the scheme of things, Tara and I haven't been apartment hunting for long. But on Thursday the search was not going well. Several people weren't returning calls. One nice apartment was tiny, as was to be expected. Another apartment in a big complex looked like a hotel, and was overly expensive to match. The last one we got in to see was right on Park Avenue, with great hardwood floors, black and white art deco tile in the kitchen, and it was a block away from school. Turns out that nothing was included with its rent (which was already above what I wanted to pay), and heating, sewage, and various other things that are included rose it up out of my budget.

We walked around, trying every place with a sign that said for rent, until we ended up back on Salmon and stopped by the Fountain Place, which had told us a couple days ago that the one bedroom had been rented. Turns out a new one had just opened up.

We've just put in applications, so it's too early to say, but assuming everything goes smoothly, we will soon be living in the most perfect apartment ever. Affordable, hardwood floors, south facing windows, big windowsills, big kitchen, nice management. Completely awesome.

So if we get this, none of you have an excuse not to come visit. Assuming we get some furniture, that is.

Well, it took about ten hours from St. Louis, but I've finally made it to Portland. I can honestly say that it feels a little weird. Not bad weird, but still, weird. I know I have a habit of flitting off to places I've never been before, where I don't know anybody, but this is the first time I've gone somewhere with the expecatation of staying for awhile without having any job or school and money lined up already. And I know someone already here. I haven't had a chance to really see the city yet, at least not in the daylight, but it seems good so far. It seems like the sort of city I'd have visited before and thought that it'd be a neat place to live, without actually considering living there. But now I am! And there's something about mountains and pine trees that triggers some kind of strange nostalgia I can't quite put my finger on. Anyway, now step two is to get a mobile phone, get a job, and get an apartment.

I've mentioned several times that Portland is an absolute joy for people who love coffee. While it's true that there are coffee shops on just about every street corner, there's one that holds a special place in my heart—Stumptown Coffee Roasters. It's not a quiet place, nor den with loads of comfy couches, but it's friendly, bright, and it has incredible freakin' coffee. Their regular is roasted, liquified crack. It's thick, dark, incredibly strong, and still cheaper than all the others I've been to, chain or otherwise.

Since I work from home, some days that I don't go to campus can get monotonous. There's nothing that helps better than getting out into the world and working a bit from here. Here's a view from the bar where I'm typing this.

After having the wettest January in 36 years, the sun is shining at near blinding levels today. I think I'll finish my coffee and go for a walk.

Manager: All right, settle down. We've got a lot to get through today. Reports?

Transition Guy: The transition from nerd in Beijing to nerd in Portland has been completed. I think we've got all the loose ends covered... [Shuffles papers] I mean, mostly, yeah.

[Team members grumble]

Transition Guy: There were complications, sure. I mean, this whole plan of going to lots more rock shows—there was no way to know that shows cost more money in the US, and that we'd have less time. I mean [sheepish grin] I know we missed Iron & Wine, but we saw Rachel's, yeah? And Deerhoof, and Kevin Blechdom! We've gotta get something for that. And you can#039t blame the transportation situation on me.

Driver: [Unshaven. Tie is already undone.] Hey! I said I was sorry! Besides, if you had gotten us a place off this damn hill we could have walked to the others.

Every show I've been to so far here has been at least two-thirds full; no matter how obscure I thought the band was, Portland's full of people who like them. Last night was the exception—San Francisco's The Drift played a wonderful set to a crowd of nine or ten. The Drift plays a jazz influenced post-rock in the vein of Do Make Say Think (without such heavy dub influence). Their album Noumena is excellent.

Other shows? Deerhoof was fantastically absurd. The Chicks on Speed had their ups and downs, but opener Blevin Blectum (formerly one half of Blectum from Blechdom) was highly enjoyable, what with the clogging and banjo playing and all. Calla were mediocre, but Celebration were lots of fun.

There are an immense number of good shows coming through Portland. I knew this before coming here, of course. Why else would I choose a new city? But I no longer have the freedom to go to every show that interests me, like I did in Beijing. Time and money would soon run short.

So far all I've seen is Mono / Bellini / LKM (Mono were great, Bellini were freaking awesome) and Clap Your Hands Say Yeah / Talkdemonic (stupidly, I took the bus, and had to leave before The National came on. Disappointing - Alligator is a great album).

When I woke up this morning, all of Marquam Hill was covered in fog; from the living room window I could see about fifty feet down to the house across street below. As the fog lifted, I could see what is now a familiar sight: mist rising from between the trees behind a small row of houses past SW Gaines Street. It looks the trees are on fire.

On Saturdays and a couple days during the week the Portland Farmer's Market is open on the Park blocks that run right through the center of campus. On my way to the library I passed asian pears, lots of pumpkins, fresh bread, cheese, and wine, and massive sweet potatoes that look like they had been cut out of solid earth.

From the window next to my table at the library I can see massive old trees that stretch higher than the five story building. The building is shaped in a semicircle around the largest, so the study tables seem focused towards it.

It's a good day.