Still Idly Librarying

Back in college -- around the time of the glancing, sophomore-level exposure to critical theory required for my tacked-on English major -- I decided that a fun alternative to a needlepoint Home Is Where The Heart Is sign would be a needlepoint Home Is Where The "Home Is Where The Heart Is" Sign Is sign.

I note this as a setup to saying that I moved into an apartment yesterday, near the western edge of the Hawthorne District*. It's a modest but attractive single-bedroom unit within a one-story complex. It should be homier than my last place; from the outside and inside it looks to me like a tiny house. I mentioned this to Jack and he was reminded of one of the funnier Geico commercials of late that wasn't turned into an unpromising sitcom. I expect it won't feel that cramped on the inside even once it's fully furnished. Right now it feels positively spacious, given that I have approximately 1.00 HCc's** of material possessions to fill it with. The lack of home-like stuff probably explains why it doesn't feel like home yet more than the lack of any "Home Is Where The Heart Is"-derived signage. I suppose more accurate needlepoint would read Home Is Where The Mattress Is, Which Is To Say Nowhere In Particular Until the Delivery Guys From Sears Show Up Next Week.

...This all seems convoluted now that I read it. The upshot is that I have an apartment but not a bed yet, so I will probably continue to bounce between Portland and McMinnville until work starts next week.

I'm still unemployed enough to meander about while picking away at the edges of the chunk of stuff I have left to do. This morning I did a dry run of the bus ride from my home to the office (23 minutes; hooray) and then got some coffee while I waited for the Central Library to open. I do have to say that the Multnomah County Libraries, though they seem to provide good services, don't keep super convenient hours -- 10 AM to 6 PM being typical for a weekday. So, shortly before ten a small crowd of patrons was expectantly lurking outside the gated library doors. It occurred to me that the scene would be a good subject for a potentially moody art photograph -- the people denied their government's services for another five minutes, etc. The average facial expression hovered someplace between "I want to use a computer" and "I have to go to the bathroom".

Their wireless signal seems patchy today too (maybe it's stronger someplace other than the second floor?) so I'll see if I get to post this right away...

Among my various activities of the past couple of days -- call utilities companies, drink coffee, buy pillows, drink beer, sleep -- I also finished reading Alex Ross' "The Rest Is Noise", which I found invigorating, largely because it made me listen to or at least think about a lot of energizing music. The way he puts the avant garde music of the 50s and 60s into a narrative context is great fun, if you're into that sort of thing. The most peculiar data point for me was the U.S. government's peculiar, rather covert sponsorship of new music concerts in post-WWII Germany, as part of an ill-defined effort to downplay nationalistic culture. I'm mainly happy that it got me to listen through all of Olivier Messiaen's "From the Canyons to the Stars..." (at about 90 minutes, this is a fine accompaniment to washing like three days worth of dirty dishes), which has as radiant and moving an ending as anything else I've gotten to know in the past couple of years.


* I'm trying to come up with a sassy term for this area that combines the words "hipster" and "Habitrail" but my brainal gears are failing me here.

** HCc = Honda Civic capacity.