Moving to the city of roses, bridges, and 80's nights.

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Our backyard bonfire in Venice at Halloween.  I lit myself on fire that year.

I recently moved from Venice, CA to Portland OR, due to a whole mess of things that don't need to be elaborated on.  Still transitioning, as it is June and last week it was in the mother f^&*ing 50's.  Degrees, that is.  Having been raised in California, I tried to limit my bitching during the winter months, mostly because I am getting pretty sick of people asking "how I'm adjusting."  "Oh, I'm thrilled, I just adore wearing two snuggies to bed." Also, I'm reading a book about Africa, and I feel pretty shitty whining about being chilly when people in the Congo have to worry about the worst parasites in the universe.

Despite paying over $1600 for a tiny apartment and narrowly escaping the traincrash known as Lindsey Lohan moving on my street (we moved out the month she moved in), I still get pangs of sadness for the old haunts of Venice. We lived about a block from Abbott Kinney, which, if you haven't been, you absolutely MUST.  It alleges itself as the hippie mecca of LA, and you can pretty much find a good mix of rich people with expensively distressed clothing, a handful of celebrities, and druggies.  There was one shop, a vintage shop, and one day me and the boy decided to go in.  He picked up a chipped coffee mug and asked the price.   The lady eyeballed his t-shirt with legitimate holes in it and said it was $600. (author's note: I don't remember the exact price, but it was definitely in the realm of $600-900).  As we snorted with laughter, she gave us the most supreme bitchface I have ever witnessed.  It was truly spectacular. She was like the Gwyneth Paltrow of boutique owners, and I would feel pretty confident in assuming that she sanitized everything we touched after we left the store. Anyway, you just can't get experiences like that here, and it is one of the many reasons Venice will be missed.

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It looked like this but with french writing and like it had been dropped

Anyways, now that the weather is clearing up, I actually get to enjoy Portland, even though it doesn't have the snobs to entertain me.  For someone interested in green living, it is certainly one of the best places to be in, and you can't help but love a place whose motto is "keep Portland weird."  (Fun fact: we almost moved into a place next door to a previous mayor of Portland who was a BIG proponent of the "keep Portland weird" movement, and he had a homeless man that lived on his balcony and acted as the neighborhood watch. )  One thing that I have discovered that rules the shit out of Portland is 80's nights.  Now don't get me wrong, I love me a costume party and any chance to dance to The Go-Gos, but I also have to be a big fan of some other decades, and I know I'm new to town but I am fully in favor of expanding our decade-themed party horizons.  Maybe a sock-hop?  A Flapper Festival? Am I just out of the loop and these are actually happening and I don't know about them?

I'm sure I could go on about other topics that people will care more about, but I'm going to choose to perseverate on this 80's obsession.  I'm starting to think that maybe its a matter of decoration investment, and as a designer, I can assuage your fears.  Lets take a 60's theme:

-Go to dolllar store, buy lots of white sheets and colored markers.

-Google tie dying.

-Tie dye sheets.

-Hang on walls.

-Done.

This is what the sheets will look like if you don't suck at tie-dyeing.

 I can assure you that the amount of money it will take to accomplish this will be less than what I personally spend at the bar, and if all partiers are not completely transfixed by all the colors then they have missed a crucial step in the pre-partying process for a hippie dance.   So can we get on this please?  Mcmenamin's, I'm looking at you, as you seem to be the leading abuser of the 80's night.