Luv Roolz, Science Droolz

April 11th, 2009

Aw, Portland. You can be such a lovely place in the spring time. What couple wouldn’t want to spend their anniversary in your flowery bosom?

Us, apparently.                                                         *record scratches*

Me hungry. Me eat rainbow. You no have rainbow anymore! Bwargh!

Even though you have trees and flowers as far as the eye can see, Graham and I always seem to end up in areas like this while celebrating our undying love for each other.

If there's not a fence, graffiti, train track, pile of garbage or urine smell, we want nothing to do with you.

To give you a bit of background on our relationship, Graham and I didn’t hit it off until we ran into each other during a gigantic war protest  in San Francisco.  I can’t remember if we were talking about how I almost got arrested or about how he actually did get arrested.  All I do remember is that I saw him in a different light that day.  Nothing brings bitter strangers closer together than a love for activism and a hatred for the President’s shitty mistakes. Thanks, Bush!

Our kisses made the papers. FACT!

A few nights later, we were at a party and ended up playing spin-the-bottle on a dirty kitchen floor.  The sparks were flying all over the place and we had our first date a few weeks later. Even though we lived in one of the most romantic cities in the world, we chose to spend our date with the hookers and trannies  in the Tenderloin.

That’s a no-brainer, kids.

One of the highlights of that date happened at the Edinburgh. I was drinking whiskey and an actual stink bomb went off as we discussed a fascinating tale involving  a friend crapping their pants.  Oh, the magic of true love. The wonderment. You come with a soundtrack AND a scratch and sniff sticker.

“Umm, You had me at ‘he crapped his pants’ darling.”

After fleeing the stink bomb, we spent the rest of the evening at a dive bar and kissed each other in a dirty alley off of Polk St.

Two-toned hair was big that year. I still have the dress I wore.

That was six years ago. This year, the two of us decided to bring a bit more class to our love-fest.  I decided that we should spend the day at the Science Museum.  The only thing I love more than a good dive bar is SCIENCE.  Unfortunately, I completely forgot that we don’t live in NYC or London or San Francisco or LA or the moon.  We live in Portland. Have any of you ever been to the Science Museum in Portland? Getting there was our first challenge.  We don’t drive.

Lost, confused, and posing on "Suicide Hotline" bridge.

Before you get to Science Land, why not relax and enjoy some of the amenities in Ninja Metal Anarchy Land.

After walking on a gravel road, we came upon the great OMSI. At last!

“Hey, wait a minute!” *record scratches*

You guys, the OMSI SUX!  This is what $22 will get you?

We left after an hour and it rained on us.  It always rains on us whenever we do anything. Ever. Always. Whatever. We still had the evening.

In our grown up clothes.

Graham surprised me with the grown up task of making reservations at an Indian restaurant.  I’m going to try to ignore the part in the evening where our cheese bread tasted like ball sweat or how our old landlord called and I drunkenly called him back but thought I was calling my voice mail  and the poor man kept going “Automne, is that you? Automne. Hello? Hello?” while I went “Omigod! David must be so stoned.  In his message he keeps calling my name.  What does he want? What a weirdo. He’s sooooo stoned.”

If I made a cell phone commercial, that would be it.

No, I’m going to ignore all of that and cut to the part where Graham took me to the Tony Starlight Show.  We had never been and it seemed like something you would do on a date.  Like everything else that night, there was  total confusion when we got there. We weren’t even sure if we’d see the show. The hostess put us on a piano bench next to the door and tried to see what she could do.  We felt like security guards sitting there.

Ids, please.

When we did finally get a seat with the grown ups and the normals, the show went a little like this…

I don’t know. After about a half an hour and four glasses of wine, I started getting a little drunk and surly. I may or may not have  used my out loud voice about the man next to us that ordered three candy beans for $10.  I may or may not have thought that he was Ralph Nader. I may or may not have wondered how Ralph Nader could afford such candy beans. This is the reason Graham and I never do well in nice places.  My out loud voice always ruins stuff. Anyway, a little bit before midnight, Graham and I left.  I wasn’t sure where we were going until…

… he got on his knee and proposed to me on a dirty street.

It was romantic, punk, and totally perfect.

And I said, “yes. “