Kerns: ZimZim

It's been awhile since I blogged so I thought it was time to write about the Portland neighborhood, Kerns.

For those that don't remember, Kerns is west of Laurelhurst & Hollywood, south of the Lloyd District & Sullivan's Gulch, and north of Buckman & Sunnyside. The only thing west of Kerns is the Willamette River. It's a weird neighborhood in that many of the streets carry the "NE" prefix but since it's south of 84, it could technically be in Southeast Portland.

Kerns claims "Restaurant Row" (NE-SE 28th) and possibly everything amazing on Burnside from the the river to Music Millennium. With that said, I thought I would share a little shop that brought several smiles to my face.

ZimZim is nested one blocked south of Burnside, at the corner of SE 28th and Ankeny. It's a little 750 square foot place that provides many things Portland, quirky, and mischievous. There probably is a cookie cutter store just like it on Mississippi but why go where all the tourists are?

If you feel the need to feed you current fascination with mustaches, this place has the fuel for your fire. Is your coffee table needing some Portland love? You will find coasters, books, and other trinkets. And without a doubt, you will find things with bicycles and birds painted on them.

But there's more - so much more. And that's why you need to check this place out. Why not? Saturday Market is officially closed till the spring and you'll probably need a pair of knee high socks that say PORTLAND on the side of them.

ZimZim on Yelp

When you're done at ZimZim, I DO NOT recommend walking across the street to Esparza's for some Tex-Mex. I finally checked this place out last weekend and really liked the food. But for some reason Esparza's thinks Tex-Mex is expensive. My two soft tacos, rice and beans plate was somewhere around $12. In Texas, this runs for half that price. On top of that, the atmosphere of Esparza's is weird. They have puppets hanging from the ceiling, ultimately scaring any future date I bring in there. Thanks guys!

With that said, please donate to my fund called "Sarah's opening a Tex-Mex restaurant". It will be called "The Washateria" because any Texan will tell you that the best Mexican food restaurants are in places that might have been laundromats at one time. But my Grandma Bert calls them "wharshaterias" (like someone from Pennsylvania or Baltimore) so that's what I'll call it.

Kerns: Hollywood Vintage

When I first moved into the Kerns neighborhood, I kept driving past a very distinct building. It's peach...or maybe it's pink. Doesn't matter. It didn't seem to fit the neighborhood. But then again, this is Portland. It doesn't have to fit.

Within a couple of months, I noticed it moved across the street to a new location. Its signs stating it had vintage eye wear attracted me. How vintage? And was it horribly disorganized, causing me to not want to ever return again? No. Hollywood Vintage is so classy, I'm pretty sure bands like The Decemberists frequent this place.





While the place seems to be more for men, if you're a female who likes to wear men's hats, glasses and clothes, this is for you as well. The front room of the store is made up of hats, glasses and a few clothing items. To your left is a room of costume apparel. And at about 1 o'clock is a short hallway that has a couple of rooms with nice dress shirts and more hats. When you pass this, you walk into an enormous warehouse room that has several rows of vintage menswear. This stuff is classy. And I can only assume the man I saw leaning against a glass case was the owner. He was the epitome of this store.



Hollywood Vintage isn't all clothing and costumes. You can also find vintage copies of Playboy here. And awkwardly against the far north wall are a few racks of greeting cards. My greatest find was a tricorne hat. Maybe in due time I'll actually buy one.

Hollywood Vintage
Northwest Corner of NE 28th & Sandy
(503) 233-1890
www.hollywoodvintage.com

as it was in the beginning is now and ever shall be

The title of this blog comes from a Catholic prayer affectionately called "The Glory Be". I hope you can forgive me as I walk away from the topic of my blog (my neighborhood and apartment) and will let me write about today.

Growing up in small town Central Texas, I was raised Catholic by my family. I was a good Catholic. First confession at age six. First communion at age seven. Confirmed at 15 under the name Cecilia. But at some point in high school, I decided to try out the Baptist faith. Again, I was good at that. I could cross reference verses with the best. I could create Bible studies. And I could lead praise & worship like no other. Faith has been my gift. My talent.

In college, I played on the praise and worship team for Aggie Sisters for Christ. ASC was (and could quite possibly be) the largest all-female Christian organization on the Texas A&M campus - one of the most socially conservative schools in the nation¹.

After college, I lead a praise & worship team for a singles ministry back home. For me, it was one of my single greatest donations to the church. I also lead a Bible study and donated my time by driving medical missionaries to airports. But it was during this time that I stopped seeing my faith at face value. The favoritism and ignorance of some in the church had finally eaten away at me.

Rewind 20 years back to 1987.

Remember what movie came out that year? Boy, I do! Dirty Dancing. I was a huge fan of this movie. Huge! At that time, I was only allowed to watch it with my mom because she had to fast forward it through certain parts. Dirty Dancing seemed to have the best soundtracks (weren't there two?), the cheesiest lines and my crush, Jennifer Grey. Yes, as a wee lad, I knew I was gay for Jennifer Grey.

It was also around this time that I admitted to my best friend that I didn't want to spend my life with a boy. I wanted to spend it with a girl. Nobody taught me this. I just always knew. And it wasn't until fifth grade that I finally knew what "gay" was.

Bill Clinton pushed "Don't Ask. Don't Tell" and it seemed like every student had a new word on the tip of their tongue - gay. Gay was bad. Gay was weird. Gay was wrong and you would be laughed at if you were gay. I remember exactly where I was when I found out gay was "bad".

I was standing in line in Mrs. Carroll's classroom, about to change classes and head to Mrs. Gray's room. As we lined up, a bucktoothed boy (who thought he was the shit) turn around to me and mentioned something about me being "so gay". What did that mean? He quickly gave me a lesson in what gay was (girls who liked girls and boys who liked boys) and I then realized I was doomed for all eternity. No, this was not the holy spirit coming into my heart to tell me right from wrong. This was ignorance striking fear into me.

Throughout my time in small town Texas, I laid low. I wanted to succeed at everything I tried and I knew being "different" could possibly ruin that all for me. Not to say that I never dated. I did. And they were some of the greatest guys. But in the end, they were my best guy friends and that's it.

Fast forward to June 14, 2008.

My brother called me out of the blue to tell me something. In a very low and humbled voice, Daniel said, "Sarah, um, you're going to be an aunt." Usually, this kind of news is great news but for Daniel, this wasn't good news (but now it's wonderful). After talking for awhile, I told him I had to go but we would talk the next day. Sunday (the next day) came and we discussed his predicament some more and talked about how he should tell our parents. I didn't want Daniel to feel out of place, so I dropped my news to him. Actually, he guessed it. He said he already knew and had talked about it with his friends to which he said he was fine with me being gay.

As the year went on, I felt disconnected with my parents because I wasn't completely being myself with them. My parents have always been great about not pushing me to date but there were times that I dated and never told them because of who I was dating. So exactly one year after Daniel told me about Maggie, I called up my mom and told her about me.

It was the single most hardest thing I've ever done. I cried out of nerves and fear. And after telling my mom that I was "never going to bring a guy home", my mom told me, "Sarah, this is why I always tell you I love you no matter what."

As I rattled off my checklist of things that still made me the "same old Sarah", my mom kept saying, "Sarah, this is why I always tell you I love you no matter what." I had nothing to prove. I had always known and grew up gay under the radar. My parents had raised a gay daughter and she was successful. She wasn't the lies that so many people throw out there: a pedophile, immoral, promiscuous or drug addict. I set goals for myself and met them. I wanted to be the head drum major of a state qualifying band. And I was. I wanted to graduate from Texas A&M in four years. And I did. I wanted to be a web developer at Intel. And I am.

Today is National Coming Out Day. I'm writing all of this because I know that if every gay person came out and told everyone they knew, the fight would be over. Our country would see that some of its most hard working, honorable people are gay. I'm not wanting to start an argument. But I ask that you stop using phrases like "that's so gay" to mean "you're so stupid". I'm also pretty sure that "you're retarded" is not kosher as well.

If someone starts to say that homosexuals are immoral people who corrupt our nation, think of me. I'm sure it'll make you laugh because I'm one of the most vanilla people you probably know. And if you're a Texan, write Governor "Good Hair" and tell him to end the ban on gay rights in Texas.

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¹Top 10 Most Socially Conservative Colleges http://encarta.msn.com/encnet/Departments/College/?article=Top10MostConservative09

not just for tequilla anymore

In lieu of people being more organic (I really hate that word), I thought I would post a blog about the uses of lemons and lemon juice. Using lemons while cleaning has proven to be just as amazing as the cleaners that "take your breath away". One of my favorite uses for lemons is cleaning copper bottom pots & pans.

like a copper penny...
a tarnished pot	spray on lemon juice	spread lemon juice
shake on salt	spread salt on pot	wipe away excess

This method of cleaning your copper bottom pots & pans is a lot easier if you use a halved lemon with salt. But I have a spray bottle with lemon juice in it because lemon juice can be used the following ways:

• Remove soap scum
• Clean counter tops and sinks (add salt for sinks)
• Natural bleach for clothing
• Furniture polish (add olive oil)
• Clean your microwave

i will be the biggest loser

My last blog mentioned my purchase of a George Foreman Grill from Goodwill. With three large chicken breast in my freezer, I thought I would experiment with some sauces and marinades. Sgt. Pepper's Yellow Jacket First is your typical lemon-pepper chicken. It was quick and easy. Pour some lemon juice in a Tupperware container. Shake in some pepper and salt. And allow your chicken cutlet to soak up the goodness. Chopsticks II The next flavor was a little more bold. I combined:

• House of Tsang Original Stir-Fry Sauce
• Sriracha Hot Chili Sauce
• soy sauce
• sugar
• salt

Drop (Your) Top Chicken Cutlets While cooking the chicken marinaded in the Chopsticks II sauce, I opened a Drop Top beer and decided it would be awesome to have a chicken marinaded in your favorite beer. So I mixed together:

• Drop Top beer
• cinnamon
• pinch of salt

Out of all of these flavors the Chopsticks II marinade was the best. The worst? My Drop (Your) Top Chicken Cutlets marinade. Shocked? I hope not. It was a bad idea but I can at least say I tried. One of these days, this will be a successful marinade but I have a feeling it'll take some time. Here's to a good night of experiementing in my kitchen. [takes a swig of Drop Top]

recycle your treasures - part one

As the saying goes, "One man's trash is another man's treasure." This couldn't be anymore true when it comes to shopping at Goodwill.

Growing up, my grandma and I would scope out the newspaper for good garage sales and hit them up in hopes of finding some treasures. Before I even stepped foot on the A&M campus, I had the best vintage A&M collection. Of course, this got lost in the mix when I had my short love affair of the University of Texas.

When I got in college, I shopped the local Goodwill stores looking for vintage t-shirts. As I got older, my dad and I braved the county flea market in hopes of finding cast iron skillets and other goodies. Who am I kidding? We still do this. So it only made since that I would be a fan of Goodwill when I moved to Portland. And I have been.

My first purchases were kitchen items. It was plain white plates and bowls. Revere Ware pots and pans. Basically, your mom's kitchen items. I like copper bottom pots and pans for some reason. The look clean to me. So I bought them, cleaned* them up and proceeded to cook some delicious meals.

Over time, I've bought glasses and pints of some of my favorite beers. Instead of paying $15 for my favorite pint glass, I can usually pick them up for no more than $1.99 around town.

Goodwill is great for making quick purchases. You can usually find a really nice casserole dish for the time you have to make dressing for Thanksgiving. There's usually a bunt cake pan or two. And for those who are more daring, they have a ton of flatware.

I've laid off the kitchen items until recently when I had to fully supply my kitchen. Once again, Goodwill has not let me down. Within the racks of Goodwill are items that have never been used. Take for instance, my IKEA dish rack. Another poor item bought from the store, never used and then taken to Goodwill when someone was either cleaning or moving. By purchasing it at Goodwill, I've saved some money and supported a great organization.



How do appliances hold up? Not too bad - if you really do your homework.

My mom recently told me how she bought a used George Foreman Grill in really good shape and that her and my dad had been cooking their chicken that way. A couple of weekends ago, I ran across a small GFGrill at Goodwill for $4.99 in amazing shape so I thought I would try it out. This has proven to be a great purchase. It cooks chicken cutlets in less than 5 minutes and still keeps your chicken juicy.

Other than my grill, I bought a paper towel holder that I installed on the inside of my cabinet door. Since it was so cheap, I don't mind leaving it behind when I finally move out (ha! yeah right!)

*A quick way to clean the copper of your copper bottom pots and pans is to cut a lemon in half and shake some salt on the meat of the lemon. Rub this on the copper part and it'll clean right up. This same method of cleaning works for several other things. Here are some of those methods.

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Tonight for dinner:

• Chicken cooked on my George Foreman Grill and then smothered in Stubb's BBQ Sauce
• Corn on the cob boiled in a Revere Ware pot and then smothered in buttah
• Icy cold Dr. Pepper

kern[el]s of corn

My new neighborhood is proving to be the perfect match for me. Between its easy access to downtown, proximity to the grocery store and walking distance to many great restaurants, I feel as if I've finally found home here on the west coast. It's been a hard love to find but as it goes with anything great in life, sometimes it's best when you wait on it.

So here I find myself in the Kerns Neighborhood of Portland, OR. It's an odd shaped neighborhood that looks like the state of New York. We have VooDoo Doughnut Too, the Screendoor, Pambiche, & Ken's Artisan Pizza. If you're into music, we have Laurelthirst and the Doug Fir. Okay. That's a lie. A white one. The Doug Fir is across the street from the Kerns Neighborhood (it's in Buckman) but who's looking this stuff up? Bottom line, I feel like I'm in the middle of everything without having to live downtown. It's my "South End" of Portland. And if you know me, you know that makes me as happy as a warm kitten.

The neighborhood seems to be filled with young professionals. And yeah, there's the occasional family home but for the most part the area is flooded with apartments. What fills the apartments seems to be more of a treat than the spice cake you can pick up at Starbucks on 28th and Burnside.

Molly, my black lab, and I walked down to the park to play an early morning game of fetch. On our way back, we saw four individuals that reminded me of the crazy rednecks from my hometown of Belton, TX. They were hauling stuff out of an apartment into a 1978 Ford F-100 pick-up and looked to be in a chaotic rush to do it. Later on in the afternoon, I went for another walk and saw shattered glass all over the street. What were these people up to? Well, my friends, I had just witnessed hell's fury. Or shall I say...the wrath of a woman.

As I blog, you will hear a lot about the people at the Volvo repair shop. There's a couple we assume live within the shop and work during the day. Bill & Mary are simple people who spend their evenings sitting outside the shop, watching the world go on. They're nice enough to say hi to me when I walk by but grounded enough to talk to the rehab women across the street. So ...yes... the wrath of a woman.

Mary had informed one of the girls in my apartment building that a woman in a fit of rage had moved out of her apartment this weekend. Her boyfriend had cheated on her and within 14 hours, she had her stuff moved out. Fourteen hours is a short time to move out so you can only imagine the damage and junk left behind. The curb was littered with stuff she didn't take with her. And anything glass that belonged to her boyfriend (ahem....ex-boyfriend) now laid in shards in the middle of the street. She signed her Dear John letter oh so craftily. Among the cars parallel parked on the street was one that didn't stand a chance. Mary could only assume this car belonged to the cheater because, you see, the car now possessed a gruesome dent.

Moral of the story, don't cheat.