[Poor little blog readers, I have a feeling that in the upcoming months I'll "treat” you to a lot of these travel-log style posts that are really just my desperate, sentimental attempts to record my last few months in my second favorite U.S. city. These posts have little to do with you, but I don’t want to exclude you. Here's an idea: you can skim them, then show some insincere but polite participatory spirit by posting generic comments like "wish I were there!" or "sounds like fun" or "what the hell are you babbling about?!". It will work for both of us--I can feel loved, and you can feel charitable.]
This weekend:
Matt and Joy visited from Seattle.
Friday night agenda: dinner at the swanky-yet-Wisconsin-themed (they even have a "Genna's Cosmo," !!!!!) Savvoy, film festival at Clinton Street Theater. One of Matt's short films was in the festival, and it was fun to listen to a very engaged crowd react to it. Unfortunately, most of the other films were so terrible we left shortly after intermission. Too tired to brave the bar scene, we ventured home where we enjoyed soy-dream rootbeer floats like wholesome tots.
[Tear-jerking moment: to get to the Clinton Street neighborhood from my apartment, we cut through Ladd's Addition. Took the cute little alley down to Ladd's Circle (feels all European--which makes sense considering its a Parisian inspired neighborhood) then wandered up to Divison, and voila! Clinton Street neighborhood! Ladd's Addition is entirely too lovely, especially on a warm spring night when everything smells like flowers. Curses! I almost cried.]
Saturday:
Chilled at my apartment in the AM, ate bagels and drank coffee while watching the women's semifinal showdown between Jelena Jankovic and Venus WIlliams at the Family Circle Cup. Good times. Then we got lunch at Tiny's, hit some art stores on the east side, and hit I-84. Our first stop was Multnomah Falls (gigantic waterfall featured in the photo you see there), then we drove another half hour to Hood River, the kite-boarding capital of the world. After a great dinner at a little cafe where the waitress totally screwed up and charged us like $20 too little for our bill (hey now, we DID bring it up to her so she could correct it, and she returned it to us--even MORE wrongerer), we went down to watch kite-boarders leap about on the Columbia River.
[Tear-jerking moment: Driving up I-84. When you first leave Portland, you might think “oh bore, another stupid interstate,” but somewhere between the airport and Troutdale up pops Mount Hood in front of you, and Mt. St. Helens to the north, and then suddenly you’re in the Columbia River gorge and dramatic cliffs pop up to your right, complete with more and less dramatic waterfalls, and the gorge itself? Colorful, vast, with gigantic locks and dams and bridges. Even caught a few glimpses of the Bridge of the Gods, which I’ve only driven across once, but which I enjoy knowing is nearby. It dawned on me that unless I go camping or hiking in southern Washinton this summer, the next time I take that drive that far east might be--gulp--when I move. Boo-hoooo!]
When we got back to Portland, Jamey was home from work, and he made us his special-recipe Irish coffees (mmmmmmmmmmmmm) and we half-ass tried to play Outburst but kept giving each other clues, so it wasn't exactly hyper-competitive. Then I watched in envy as they all curled up and tucked in to watch a movie, while I had to put on makeup and heels and a skirt and get ready to go out. On a normal night, wild horses couldn't have torn me away from Irish coffee, a good movie, and a night at home with good friends, but it was my wonderful friend Kirsten's birthday, and her boyfriend, my pal Greg, is on tour with his band, so I thought it very important that her friends show up for her birthday party. Did you follow that?
Anyhoo, while I was getting ready Greg called and begged me to buy her some flowers from him and bring them to the bar and give them to her. I was all "GAAAAAWD Greg, FINE, but you OWE me," then had to clomp around Fred Meyer in 3-inch heels trying to find decent flowers at 10:30 at night, couldn't find any nice tulips, so paid a ton for a huge bouquet of Oriental lilies. Wrestled the lovely suckers into the car, wrestled them into the vase I had the forethought to bring, wrestled them out of the car, into the bar (is this starting to sound like Dr. Seuss to anyone else), and into Kirsten’s hands. She smiled. Then I said, “These are from Greg,” and she grinned, huge, and got all teary and shy and buried her face in them for a spell. It was totally worth it to see her that happy, especially knowing how much she misses Greg. Aw.
The birfday party was fun and I was glad I went. Saw lots of friends, met a few new ones, and never even went up to the bar, so I didn’t spend any money.
[Tear-jerking moment: Reese showing up, sitting across from me, grabbing my hands all “I don’t want you to goooooo! Four months is so short! It will be, like, tomorrow, that you’re leaving, in no tiiiiime!” God DAMN it people, do you WANT to make me burst into hysterical tears? GAWD!!!!]
Sunday: Bagels and coffee again, women’s final, art show in basement of Doug Fir, brunch at Doug Fir, Joy and I shopped for a wedding dress in the Pearl district ( for her, for HER for the love of god), I bought some jewelry I couldn’t afford, then Matt and Joy left and Jamey and I relaxed for the rest of the night.
Nice. Weekend.
The. End.
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