Portland is for Lovers

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Once upon a time… I took off… (see True Happiness is Having Wings)
Given the criticism I recieved upon leaving a “good job” in the midst of the beginning of an economic crash; I was more than ready to board on my SFO-PDX one way flight. I gave away what I could as far as my furtniture went, and packed clothing, books and pictures into storage. I took a cab to the airport and in every way left San Francisco behind.
Although this was a world trip, it began with Portland Oregon, because one of my friends lived there. I had never visited, and this was the perfect ease into a backpacking trip of unknown lengths.
Julia and I at the Crystal Ballroom
Portland held many of the same sentiments San Francisco did, the first time I visited. I fell hard for that city. As I sat at the airport with knotts in my stomach wondering what the hell I had just done, I headed to the bar to ease my nerves. I ordered a beer…the bartender told me a shot would only be $2.50 more… I said, what the hell… it was near noon anyway. After calling a friend my mind began to ease  with the kindest most encouraging words… ”you’re doing something most people only dream of.
I arrived to the smiling faces of Julia and Steve (never will I take them picking me up from the airport for granted- as that would be one of the only times I arrived anywhere with someone waiting for me). We arrived at their cute little 4 bedroom home, that was cheaper than my tiny studio in SF…hmmm…. In this house I spent the coldest 3 weeks of my life, but some of the most fun and memorable times.

beautiful sunset after the rain at Edgefield

Jesus duck walking on water at Laurelhurst Park

We ate delicious food- such as but not limited to oyster shooters, and sushi. We played in the snow – drove Julias thunderbird at 5.2 miles an hour to my doctors appointment through a storm. This was what her car looked like most morning I was there…
Danced in their living room to Blitzen Trapper- Furr (on the regular). Had sing alongs in true hippy style, while Steve played the guitar.

We hiked Multnomah falls. We played a lot of shuffle board and drank a lot of beer at the bars near their house. We visited the High School where Twilight was filmed in. We watched the entire first season of 6 Feet Under. We tried and surely failed to insulate their windows while taking shots of vodka mid-day, and singing a long to country music.
We went to a Trailblazers Game. So fun!
We listened to live music at the Crystal Ball Room. Watched movies at the Baghdad theatre drinking wine, an old school theatre that plays cheap movies and alcohol. I walked along Hawthorn street, and spent hours reading at Powell’s book store/coffee shop when Julia and Steve went to work. I got my nose pierced.

We Karaokee-d to Total Eclipse of the Heart
We played at trivia night at a bar downtown

Me at the Twilight Highschool…no vampire sightings

On my last night there their rugby player friend who developed a small crush on me left a paper bag of books at the front door for me to read while traveling. Adorable. We had a really fun Super Bowl party- by far the best Superbowl I have been to. In fact I have never even paid attention to the games, until this one!

The SuperBowl Party Group

Post Super Bowl Dance Party.

Time came and went, and it was time to pack up… Thank you Portland for the amazing time…

Pura Vida comes to California

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ImageWhen I was 20 years old I took out a college loan to fund my first trip to another country alone. Costa Rica changed my life, and defined my passion for traveling. I spent a month there, two weeks volunteering at an eco tourism lodge / banana plantation. The last two weeks, I spent white water rafting, zip lining, hiking active volcanos, swimming in the beach and enjoying the jungle rain.

On this trip I met 9 other individuals from different areas who spent every single day sharing these experiences with me. We filled dirt bags together, from the soil we wheeled from the river, transplanted palm trees, tried to medicate our bug bites, got drunk together, slept 3 people to a bed, listened to the howler monkeys and the rain pounding on our thin roofs.

7 years later, as I type this, I am sitting in a hotel in Hollywood awaiting the arrival of 3 of them to California.

As soon as I pulled up to the Hotel, the bright blue doors reminded me of all the different places I’ve stayed at, on my travels. I felt a sense of loneliness, remembering my least favorite thing about traveling alone: arriving somewhere knowing no one is waiting for you. You get to an airport and see lovers embrace, best friends hug, families wave as they spotted their loved ones. You look around and recognized no one…but just as the first time, when I arrived in Costa Rica, my fear and loneliness is always erased by the adrenaline and excitement of what I’m about to experience.

Your way out is always different, you are always leaving someone whose path you changed forever. After we parted so many years ago, we all said we’d keep in touch. I’ve been blessed to have that be a reality, and to now be hours away from welcoming them to visit me seems unreal.

We’ve all grown up so much. Time to make some new memories…

Welcome to California.

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My Funny Valentine’s

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When I was 16 years old my Valentine gave me a pair of socks, with a note that said “you rock my socks,” a blue old navy jacket that I wore until I couldn’t anymore, a picture of us, a home made card and concert tickets to see Le Tigre. Given the budget we had at that age, it was an extremely lavish gift…more than I could have asked for. It was extremely thoughtful, from the color scheme on the wrapping, down to the silly way he wrote his heartfelt words. This all from the same boy who made a booklet titled “100 reasons and still counting why I love Ursula” then secretly left it on the seat of his car, so I would find it when he dropped me off after junior prom.

Since I was young, it has been in my nature to do or give thoughtful gifts. Through the richest and poorest times, the things I remember most are the heartfelt sentiments, I have letters dating back to when I first learned to write, from cousins, friends… A box filled with journals and pictures.

My first real Valentine and I were a match in this, if nothing else. Through our entire friendship and relationship I was constantly on the recieving end of the most romantic, thoughtful, and generous love tokens of my entire life. I didn’t know that yet, however. I thought every guy I would meet after that would be as attentive, as loving… taking notes on my every favorite thing, so they could share it with me.

I read a blog post today about the best and worst Valentine’s, and it got me thinking…

I think the sock one was my best…

My worst Valentine was sitting at dinner, lonely. My Valentine spent most, if not all of our date on his phone. When I finally said something about it, he told me there were more important things, and how ungrateful I was for dinner. That if I could find someone else who would be willing to spend $300 on dinner, then there was the door. That wasn’t even the worst part.

Some honorable good Valentine’s mentions:

Two years ago me and my group of friends did Hamburger Mary’s Valentine’s sunday brunch, bottomless mimosas and a buffet watching a drag show.

A few years back I spent Valentine’s in a “trajinera” in Xochimilco, Mexico. One of those cool boats… like in Venice…but since it’s Mexico add lots  of bright red, green, and flowers. A group of my cousins friends and I rode around with a bunch of other boats, listening to music, drinking and dancing.

I think one year I made awesome cupcakes for someone.

Valetine’s day is weird. I think I’m done.