11 Days Down

I’ve been struggling a little bit with the emotional impact of my cross-country move. Despite Kathy and Jill being clearly amazing and giving me (and my cat!) a place to live and lovely company, there’s just something weird and difficult about being in a different time zone and losing your routine completely and not knowing where anything is and being unemployed and just kind of feeling…displaced, you know?

Also, this horrible (read: wonderful) thing where from the distance of 3,000 miles a person can be weird and moody and their best friend doesn’t know it versus being on the opposite end of the couch where she can look at you and know everything? (Also, Kathy could almost always tell from a distance anyway and I’m clearly fooling myself, but my “NO I AM NOT CRYING” has less of an impact when she can see me?)

Anyway, I’ve been here a bit over a week and wanted to focus on some awesome things instead of my general moodiness, so here is a not-comprehensive list of all the things that have made me happy since I landed at PDX.

-       Kathy and Jill were waiting for me when I got off the plane with hugs and excitement. In my ‘I just packed up my whole life and have been on a plane for almost 7 hours exhaustion’, I told someone who asked if I had been on the flight from New York City “No.” Oops, yes I was. I don’t know why that makes me happy, but it does. 

-       Running errands with Jill on my first day here because, seriously, grocery stores that don’t exist where you used to live are actually really fun and exciting?

-       Walking down the street to get drinks and some food from Coasters, which is a perfect and trashy little bar. Trying to play darts but having no clue what any of the 400 options were or what we did to temporarily break the game in the end. Also, I’m very bad at darts. I don’t know this based on my score (because I don’t understand my score?) but based on the fact that most of my darts just bounced off the target?

(Jill took this picture. I stole it from her instagram.)

 -       First food cart visit since moving! We went to The Angry Unicorn and all got The Best Burger (which lives up to it's name) and giant glass bottles of soda. Bonus points for the fact that the cart had a cool bottle opener built into the side. Double bonus points for JP jumping up and biting a bee that was flying around terrorizing us and then triple bonus points for the owner of The Angry Unicorn coming over and further stepping on the bee to kill it and save us all. Also, when we were leaving, his chalkboard stated “ONE BURGER LEFT” and he must have sold it because he added an N to the front which made me giggle. All the bonus points.

-       Jill being the best chef in the world, probably? Practically every night she’s cooked some amazing dinner, which I’ve gotten to eat. Why would I ever move out? This is a dream come true.

 -       Going for a walk with Kathy and JP where Kathy showed me the park she plays basketball in, which I will one day soon go with her and play basketball aka swing on the swings. 

-       Taking a bus all by my grown up self to Powell's which is an amazingly huge bookstore where I intended to look at books about Portland, but also picked up a couple YA novels because I’m unemployed and it’s a good time to buy really necessary things like that? I also walked around the city by myself for a few hours just to look around which is something I should probably start doing more of. Seriously though, I lived in Boston. I spent a lot of time on public transport. Yet, I’ve never really taken a bus before? What even.

-       Going to a chili cook-off, which, frankly, I was nervous about because I’m really bad at parties? And being in groups of people I don’t know? And meeting strangers? AND EXISTING AS A RATIONAL HUMAN BEING? But luckily it was lots of fun and everyone was super awesome and Jill being the best chef in the world paid off because her chorizo and yam chili totally won! Also, the wine I picked out almost won the wine contest and in the end we took home all the prizes anyway, so yay!

 -       Okay, so earlier this week I made a list of things that I wanted to do in Portland and one of them was to check out the Portland Flea, which is a flea market that takes place once a month. Kathy and Jill had never been to it either, so we all trekked off on Sunday morning. Let me tell you that the word “flea” is used super loosely. It’s basically a lot of hip overpriced used stuff with none of the fun digging around at a flea market feel. I was really happy that we went, but am in certainly no hurry to go back. However, afterwards, we went to the House of Vintage, which is this HUGE vintage/thrift shop and it was amazing and totally made up for the flea being slightly less than. They also had a great old photobooth that was still functioning and had been hooked up with a credit card machine, so I swiped my credit card and forced everyone to get in. Photobooths are basically my favorite things and I’m totally going to make us have a tradition of getting our pictures done in the old one there because it’s a dream come true. (I have nerdy dreams.) 

-       Walking around the neighborhood by myself, just to get out of my job-applying-pajamas for a bit and walking by a dude eating icecream off of a paper plate with a fork. When you need icecream, you just NEED IT.

 -       Speaking of icecream…we went to Salt and Straw, which is the most amazing place ever. Right now they have a great Thanksgiving menu with awesome flavors like Sweet Potato and Candied Pecans and Salted Caramel Thanksgiving Turkey (Kathy said you could really taste the fat) From the Thanksgiving menu, I got a scoop of Pumpkin Custard and Spiced Chevre and a scoop of Almond Brittle with Salted Ganache from the regular menu. We also brought home a pint of Apple Cider Sorbet which is super exciting. ICECREAM IS JUST REALLY A THRILL, GUYS.

-       Just hanging out and watching all the stupid things on TV. Though I will never admit it in real life, I really like all the poking and kicking Kathy does when I’m not paying her enough attention while we’re all sitting around. It’s nice to just be here and not on skype while I talk way too much during shows.

So, yeah. While my emotions have been kind of up and down, a lot of fun stuff has happened as well, so I’ll go ahead and call these last 11 days a success with so much appreciation for the people who are letting me annoyingly invade their space for a while. At least I’m trying to contribute by washing the dishes as much as possible.

Blogember: Day 12

Today's prompt is: Your First Pet

I can't actually remember the order that my 3 main childhood pets came into my life. I grew up with 2 cats (Becky and FatBoy/Kitty BiteU) and 1 dog. Despite the fact that I actually only have a photo of Becky on my laptop here - I'm going to talk about my childhood dog, Tera.

Sorry, Becky. Not today.

After a slew of adopted dogs that didn't work out, my parents came home one day with Tera. A small ball of energy with hair that stuck up all over the place. It would eventually grow out as she grew up into the long thick hair that people usually associate with a collie.

Her actual name was Ephemeroptera Heptageniidae which is the scientific name for some kind of mayfly. Don't ask me. My parents are science-y insect people and I obviously wasn't allowed to name her. Which is only too fair considering that I named a cat Becky, a previously adopted Irish Setter Donut O'Dog (he was Irish) and would later name a dog after Taylor Hanson. Not that a name a regular person can't pronouce is much better come to think of it, but I digress.

I have two very clear memories of Tera - the first is of her laying on the floor across the front of my bedroom door at the end of the hallway. I would often trip over her in the middle of the night leaving my room and she would prevent anyone from coming in. My big protective Lassie.

The second is in the summertime, my parents would have her hair shaved down because it was hot and there was a literal ton of it. You could read embarrassment all over her face when she would come out of the groomers naked with little bows tied by her ears. We had to put a t-shirt on her (one of mine, The Little Mermaid), tied up in a knot on the back or she would refuse to go outside. Poor baby just didn't want to be naked in public - who can blame her?

Tera lived a long life for a collie and went to sleep only when her body couldn't hold her up anymore. She was the perfect companion to grow up with and I still miss her today.

Blogember: Day 11

I'm a little behind on the old blogember prompts due to moving across the country, but I'm getting back in the swing now with day 11: 3 albums you would take in a deserted island.

This is a decidedly difficult choice to make. In my move, instead of eliminating CDs - even ones that I am positive I'll never listen to again (seriously, Limp Bizkit? I'm not sure what I was thinking either) - I bought a giant CD carrying case, tossed the booklets and jewel cases and shipped every single one. So, how in the world can I just pick 3 to listen to forever?

And yes, it will be forever. I have no survival skills. I know I'm not getting off of this island.

Okay, here goes.

1. Neutral Milk Hotel - In The Aeroplane Over The Sea
This is one of the most important albums of my life and one that I can barely go a few days without listening to at least some part of it. Every time I listen, I discover something new, so it's practically like not having to choose one static album at all. 

2. Hanson - This Time Around
Obviously, I love Hanson. Almost as much as I hate them. And This Time Around is the best Hanson album with so much personal history for me, that there's no way it's not coming with me. Let's be real, though. I'll skip Love Song on the island the same way that I do now. Sorry, Ike.

3. Michael Jackson - Thriller
Come on. Every song is perfect. Could anything be better than loudly singing Baby Be Mine alone on an island while trying to make friends with the wild animals and avoid certain death? Nope, not a thing.

There we go. Three albums, One island. And I'll hit publish right away to avoid the intense desire to add about 30 more just in case.

 

 

Blogember: Day 1!

When my girl, Tahnie, asked on twitter who would be interested in doing a daily blog challenge in November I was like ME I WOULD LIKE TO DO THAT THING because hey, it takes away the true horror of having to come up with things to write about on my own and I’m about to be unemployed anyway, so I might as well.

Today we’re sharing one of the best lessons life has shown you.

My first inclination was to toss my arms up in immediate defeat or crack a few jokes and toss in a couple gifs of infomercial people not being able to drink milk like human beings. Because I’m bad at feelings? Not having them, let’s be real. I have about a million annoyingly intense feelings every second of the day. Sharing them, however, is a different story, so sharing personal feelings about life lessons? Nope.

I thought about it for a while and decided to just do it. In the end, I came up with this: It’s okay to accept help from other people.

This might seem like a no brainer to most people but I’ve always been the helper, not the helpee. I will do absolutely anything for the people that I love and ask for nothing in return. I might have a bit of a martyr complex, who’s to say? It has absolutely led to me allowing people to take advantage of me, but I didn’t care and I couldn’t stop.

I don’t need you to help me get this stuck lid off the jar and I don’t need you to talk to me about this horrible thing that happened. I’m good. I’m great. Let’s talk about what you need.

Then, about 5 years ago, I woke up and my leg felt kind of…off. I spent a lot of the work day walking back and forth from my office to the bathroom in a bunch of weird and different ways to try and shake the feeling. The next morning, I woke up and my leg didn’t feel like anything at all. It was this part of my body that existed – I mean, there it was! But mocking me and not working.

I went to some doctors, had some blood work and MRIs and spinal taps before finally getting told that I had had Multiple Sclerosis.

I would sit on my couch and stare at my toes, willing them to move. They didn’t. I would also spend that time feeling guilty that I had needed other people to drive me places. I found myself apologizing to people for not being able to press down on the gas pedal and feeling ashamed of what was happening to me. On mother’s day, I called my mom in hysterics because I had been unable to take myself to a store to buy her a present and while I had tried to bake her cupcakes instead, I simply couldn’t stand on one leg long enough to get it done.

I didn’t tell anyone besides those that I couldn’t avoid telling. But from that small group, I needed things. I needed my sister to take out my trash. I needed my mother to hold my hand when I had the spinal tap. I needed my dad to bring me groceries. I needed my coworker to get the paper I had just printed. I needed a lot of things and I had no choice but to ask for them.

This weird thing happened, though. No matter how much I help I asked for, the people in my life still loved me and they still did things like bring me cans of dry shampoo spray when I couldn’t stand and shower, even if they maybe didn’t feel like it that day.

Now, so many years later, long after my leg started working again and long after the time when most people would ever know anything was wrong with me, I still find myself struggling to ask for what I need. Or want. But life taught me that I can. That it’s okay to not always be a rock. That I can ask for help and the world won’t simply stop spinning.