Brad and Nick came over last night... I had a totally different picture of what Brad was going to be like - on the phone, he said "we don't know what we're going to do yet" and by "we" I thought he meant him and several adoring LiveJournal minions. But it was just Nick, which was mucho better.
So anyway, we went downtown with the intention of finding some cool bar, but we ended up walking a big loop around the northern part of SW Portland and coming back up to Ringlers (under the Crystal Ballroom) and having a pitcher of beer (for them) and a Grapefruit Cosmopolitan (for me - I'm so much more sophisticated - or prissy, one or the other). Then we went to Gypsy on NW 21st Ave and more beers (and this time a "Gypsy Orchid") was had. Thank goodness for cheap dates - we retired to my apartment for lack of anything better to do at only about 11, and were buzzed just enough to actually WANT to play Scrabble (which Vladimir, suddenly comfortable around strangers, loped across and ruined, but it was OK because the board was locked up anyway) and write poetry by the light of my candle-filled fireplace. What follows is a whole lotta poetry by giggly me and buzzed boys.