She came into work today. I know what happened to her this weekend. She doesn't know that I know. She's just hunched over on her desk hoping that I won't notice that her once full, life-filled belly is now a concave form, empty. The blood is all sucked from her face and has bled into her eyes. They are bloodshot and void, with too much crying and emotion.

They told her something was wrong with the baby. They told her that she would be in danger if she carried it. They told her that her best option was to rid her body of it. I knew all of this the moment she said last week, "I don't want to talk about it right now." What was I suppose to do?

Fashion Sense

Were has it all gone? Portland has a unique style all it's own. Mostly it includes waiting for the next flood and mimicing the trees (green and brown). I didn't realize how far removed from the "fashion world" (the mere idea of me even writing these words is more than a little ironic) I'd be when I moved to Portland. Not that Kansas City is a hot bed for cutting edge by any means, but it's just a differant breed of people.

It is kind of nice not to worry about how you look, but than again, there are no social norms by which to guage how "in or out" one is. I take that back. There are social norms. But they just seem so comical to me that I guess I'll be out on this one. I do ride public transit, that makes me cool.