December 30: the final photoblog post of 2011.

In the Alberta neighborhood: A cool church and the makings of a halfassed gif experiment.

Didn't quite work. Then, a barbacoa taco from Taqueria Portland.

December 29: hand porn and burgers & fries from Violetta.

I don't think I should blame the delicious but rather heavy food from Violetta's downtown [I was downtown doing some in-person production for an upcoming book] on the appendicitis-like abdominal discomfort I've suffered the last few days, but it probably didn't help. A turkeyburger and large chili fries; if they sold poutine, I probably would've eaten until I burst.

December 25, 26, 27: chowing down.

An Xmas morning pancake, A Boxing Day fish burrito from Santa Cruz and the tablespread and my first plate at Ill's post-holidays recovery session.

Santa brought me a DVD of THE ADVENTURES OF MILO AND OTIS, a bag of Buchanan Hollow Nut Company's California mix, four bags of Swedish Fish, a chocolate-raspberry Florida Tropic ball, $50 in cash [!], two photos of my nephew, a lovely hand-knitted scarf, two winter hats and and a neat pair of gloves. Considering I was expecting to be gifted nothing at all, that's a damn good haul.

December 24: breakfast, dog and dinner. Also: COOKIES.

Scrambled eggs and brown-sugar oatmeal, and some sensitive portraits of Tecsh/Timmy on his couch, then some kung-pao tofu takeout from Pho Jasmine. The cookies were a delighted salted white-chocolate oatmeal kind that were absurdly easy to make; whenever my organs are finally subdued, these cookies will be the ones I make next.

December 23: Zoo Lights.

The zoo really shouldn't sell a seemingly unlimited number of tickets for the train that runs through this attraction, considering the hundreds of people who spend hours in the freezing cold in line for the next ride, which may or may not come. I saw an amazing number of inconsolably upset children and gray-faced parents while I stood by the merchandise kiosks near the exits, which were doing big business selling consolation merchandise to the families who wound up not-riding the train -- even as hundreds more poured through the admission gates.

I liked the blue-light donkey.

December 23: My Xmas sweater, pizza w/E&L, later ice cream

The pizza was at the Mellow Mushroom in the Pearl, and was OK. The ice cream was an excellent [albeit pricey] banana and egh lemon-mint on a great waffle cone, at Salt & Straw on Alberta.

December 22: making cards, wrapping presents, mailing packages.

Two of my better efforts at making quickie cards to send to my ever-growing menagerie of nieces, nephews and godchildren and their annoying parents. Rather pleased with myself that, despite my crippling depression and underemployed yet overworked schedule, I still managed to get the kids' gifts in the mail and to them on time.

December 20: blondies, gumbo, LOTR Pez

For a Louisiana-diaspora dinner party, Elana and I made banana blondies with cocoa cream-cheese frosting. Then we celebrated the first night of the miracle of the oil by eating her roommate's remarkable sausage gumbo [with potato salad mixed in, which I guess is a thing that they do there] and pondering what guys who are born with cop-thick necks do when they want to become ballet dancers.

Could this Lord of The Rings Pez set be a leftover from when the movies were out, or are they still actively cashing in on them?

December 19: dinner and shopping.

First, we went crazy over some fantastic tom-kha soup and basil eggplant at Thai Food Cafe on Killingsworth. Then we went to the mall, where I got called "old" by a Marshall's cashier who may have thought I was being anti-Semitic because 1.] I don't look like the self-hating Jew I am, and B.] I don't think Adam Sandler's "Hanukkah Song" is much better than the Xmas crap they play on an endless loop in these stores. I would have verbally torn the kid a new ass, but A.] I am old, and 2.] my heart goes out to any member of the tribe who's forced to work entry-level retail, even some punkass kid in this shitty economy. Then I apparently got hit on by a handsome guy at the Brookstone store; my gaydar clearly needs a new viewscreen, because I had no clue that was going on until after my shopping partner all but gave me a high-five and credited this reignited attractiveness to my new pants.

December 18: hippie chili, industrial beach, Fred Meyer.

E&I had lunch at Proper Eats, where I ate remarkably thick chili and the biggest hunk of cornbread I've ever seen. Then we went down to the park/beach on the Northwestern most part of St. Johns, which is about as bleak and gray as you would expect it to be. Then we took in lots of color, sound and slow-moving shoppers at the Fred Meyer megastore on Lombard. then, I believe we hit the Goodwill, where I delighted virtuall virtually every woman I know by buying new pants.

December 15: Barbarcoa-burrito dinner

As much as I like Santa Cruz's fish burrito, Taqueria Portland on Fessenden has them beat overall. Sometimes you just have to put a monkey penis charm on top your bill, especially when you and a friendgirl were just served by Jesus. Then you go for one more five-mile victory lap.

December 15: Rufus and brunch in the morning.

Soup, bacon and French toast at James John Cafe. I have no memory of how the food was.