my very humble abode (plus dog)

My mother asked for photos of my room and I figured I would spread them around the interwebs as well. Why not? So what does a college graduate's room look like? Unfortunately it looks a lot like a dorm room but with cleaner carpet and mismatched furniture. And in college at least I had a bed frame and an actual drawer for my winter socks. I have upgraded to a full size mattress though. Oh yeah, I'm living large.

Yes, the dog is allowed on the bed. Only on the blue blanket though. Some training to get said dog to stay on the blanket and not cuddle up with my pillows was involved.

Sadly these were the only books I had room to pack. The other ten boxes are still stored in my old closet at my parent's house. Yes, ten. The only piece of furniture that I personally owned in Flagstaff, a beautiful blue leather reading chair, was also left behind.

old friends

Upon moving to Portland, I immediately reconnected with a friend who went to high school with me. I thought it would be a little awkward reconnecting with someone who I hadn't seen in three years, but so far it's been really nice having someone to hang out with. On Friday we met up to wander around downtown Portland and he was nice enough to not only show me around but give me tips spanning from the proper pronunciation of streets/rivers/you-name-it to how to (more) easily tell direction in a city without peaks. It helped that for once the weather was absolutely gorgeous and according to many Portlanders, or at least the broadcasters on the radio, yesterday's weather is what typical June is like. That is until a weekend of rain and cloudy skies, but what can you do? I don't find it that horrible, but I also have been living in sunny Arizona so I'm not as deprived of my Vitamin D.

Back to yesterday. We ended up doing quite a bit of walking since he and I both had no idea what exactly there is to do downtown. When I did a little pre-online research about downtown Portland eating out at restaurants seemed to be the only thing suggested and neither my stomach nor my budget could do that all day so walking became the activity instead. I'm not sure where we walked downtown and even though my awesome tour guide/friend did a great job of pointing out streets, I'm just not good at remembering all the details. I'm more of a walk until I either get lost or find my destination type of person so street names never really stick in my brain. He did help me with the basics though so I'd call that a small victory.

After both of our feet were sore beyond their measure, we went to the river and just sort of watched it for a while. I miss being by a river. In Germany I think I took advantage of the lazy feeling that accompanies people watching by the river and it was nice to do that again. Not to mention, there are definitely some worthy specimens in Portland for people watching. We then hopped on a streetcar (which are free downtown, how awesome is that?) and took it to Powell's book store. I have just one word to describe Powell's: wow. I have never seen so many rooms full of so many different types of books. It's more like a library and I do love myself a good library. Except then I reminded myself that should I wish I could actually purchase that book on 1000 types of curries or a feminists view of the world. In fact they have subjects that I didn't even know where considered subjects. Metaphysics? It's a subject. Military? Also a subject. In fact they have at least a bookcase dedicated to the most off beat subjects.

Once we grew weary of our wandering (say that five times fast) we headed back to where he was parked and he drove me all the way to Vancouver, back to Portland, and all through the southern neighborhoods of the city pointing out random bits of information. Despite the traffic, it was really interesting and informative and now when someone tells me they work in Lake Oswego (aka my roommate), I can actually see that place in my head and give it a location relative to where I live. All in all yesterday was nice, I got to feel a little more social for not knowing hardly anyone and now my feet are screaming for a rest. They received their rest yesterday since I spent most of the day curled up with a mug of Twinnings and my kindle.

Today the same awesome friend that showed me around on Friday invited me to a potluck with his extended family and while I was expecting an awkward encounter that would involve me trying to convince them I was not just some random girl off the street, it also turned into a rather enjoyable event. I love family get togethers, especially when they aren't my own. I know that sounds kind of awkward and like a pretty weird thing to say, but there's something incredibly interesting and entertaining about being around such a friendly group of people. I can't help but love the banter that results and even amidst the inside jokes, I still feel a part of something so warm and welcoming.

I get to be the random stranger that everyone wants to know about and it's not like I enjoy the attention, but I enjoy the freshness that comes with describing myself to a group of people who don't already know my ambitions or anything about me. I'm not sure if that makes sense. Apparently they liked me too since I've been invited to future picnics and game nights and it will be really nice having a family-like group without the drama that comes with dealing with my own family. In short, reconnecting with old friends isn't nearly as awkward as one would expect and I may have even gained a sort of pseudo second family out of it. Sometimes it's nice to have the feeling of home completely away from home.

mount tabor

My favorite place in Portland has to be Mount Tabor Park. Seeing as I've only explored about a tenth of the city that's probably not saying much, but I have a feeling it will remain one of my favorite spots. It's only a mile away from where I live making it easy to walk to (without getting lost, go me!) and it's brimming with trails, cyclists, children, dogs, runners, and stoners. Yeah, I don't really get the appeal of hiking up a small hill/mountain to smoke pot either, but it's Portland so I don't question these things. I would have taken a photo of the beautiful Mount Tabor, but apparently my cell phone whom I've named Wilma (not the Flintstone) dislikes doing that. Have I mentioned how technologically unsavvy I am?

I've also realized that being in a city filled with incredibly fit people makes me feel very unfit. Everywhere you go there are people jogging, biking, or doing things that in general are classified as some form of exercise. It's kind of like Europe except the sculpted calves here could give Germans a run for their Euros. I saw a guy biking the other day and I could see each curve of his gastocnemius muscle. It was amazing, slightly creepy and grotesque, but pretty amazing nonetheless. So perhaps it's a good thing I've been going to Mount Tabor and doing a little jogging/walking. I also feel like a super human coming from 7000 feet so until that wears off I might as well take advantage of my super human lungs. Still, you know when you're being out jogged by a 70 year woman and a group of stoners that you should probably try to do something remotely active on a somewhat regular basis. The blisters on my toes from walking downtown disagree with me, but what do they know anyways?

Furniture Update: I am now the proud owner of a secondhand desk. It's beautiful. Having a large workspace has been lacking for far too long. 

bed adventures

I now have a mattress. My room still looks like some sort of weird combination between a storage shed and a bachelor pad (tragic I know), except I don't think bachelors would have a bookcase brimming with books. On the plus side at least now I won't acquire scoliosis from sleeping on the floor. Getting the mattress was quite the adventure and I encountered one weird specimen of a lady during the process.

I'm talking serious Professor Trelawney material here. Bottle cap glasses with thick black lenses, frizzy white hair and the lingering scent of an old attic that seemed to follow her around. The fact that she lived in a giant creaky house from 1905 perched on a hillside helped the image considerably. Interestingly enough, when I first walked into her house she grabbed hold of my hand and I was certain she was going to try and read my palm. Turns out she was just giving me almonds to feed her schizophrenic dog.

After being offered multiple pieces of furniture that I had no interest in let alone room for, I hauled my "new" mattress up a winding rock path through some thick pink flowers the whole time debating whether it was even worth the trouble. However, after a night of sleeping on what is an undoubtedly comfortable mattress despite it's peachy frilliness, I would have hauled it three times the distance for the comforts that come with having a bed. No bed bugs either, I'd call this situation a definite win as far as my Portland adventures are concerned.

Now all that's left to find is a desk so I can finish unpacking...

new places

Moving to a new city is scary. You don't know anyone aside from your roommate who you met over craigslist. And you don't know very much about him other than the few sentences he decided to divulge on the internet. At least his dog is really friggin cute.

You also don't know where you're going or what streets are even considered main streets. Or which streets are one way which is terrifying. In fact you're beginning to rely on your Tomtom that you've named Bonnie more than your own sense of direction. Which let's face it, kind of sucked to begin with.

You don't know which areas of town are "safe" and which ones aren't. You don't know whether you'll be mugged walking the one mile to the grocery store. For all you know the worst that could happen is breaking some sort of pedestrian law you weren't aware of since you just moved here. In fact you don't happen to know any laws in Oregon and could be breaking ten right now without even knowing it.

It's a big pile of scary. It's also exciting. But mostly scary.

The distinct lack of feeling like this is home doesn't help eliminate the scary. It certainly doesn't help that your room has one piece of furniture in it which just happens to be a bookshelf. Like you can sleep on that for the night right? Maybe all those cardboard boxes that are half unpacked could be turned into some furniture? At least the floor is pretty comfortable, relatively speaking. It's not wood so that's a plus. In fact it's pretty plush compared to some of the places you've slept before.

So you tell yourself to just suck it up and get over any fears you currently have. This is your dream. Remember four years ago when you wanted to go to college in the Northwest and were talked out of it? Remember how you cried and moped around for a week declaring that your life would be over if you had to stay in Arizona for college? Well you survived and now you're exactly where you wanted to be. and now Sure, it's slightly frightening, but you knew it would be. Anywhere new is scary.

So suck it up and just live.