I buy giant cups whenever I find them.
One year ago today we arrived in Portland to begin a new chapter of our lives. We arrived to a small (ok, too small) apartment and a WAY too narrow street for a giant Penske with a car attached (if you may recall the police kindly helped us out when our car on the trailer jackknifed and our only option seemed to be to hit another car). I spent nights sitting on the bleachers at a park on my cell phone crying to my best friend wondering if it was a mistake. I angrily huffed around neighborhoods by myself. I felt lonely. I fell off my bike… a few times. I thought Drew HATED it here. I kind of thought Drew hated me. I didn't think the city was as pretty as I remembered. Our apartment building smelled like spray paint, weed, and cat pee. It was too noisy on the street to keep the windows open and think at the same time.
I had been on an upswing of eating healthy and working out. That ended… big time. The economy got progressively worse.
We made the best of it. We painted, brightened and tried to enjoy the space but it became clear it wasn't the city Drew disliked, but the apartment. But he could not bear the idea of another move.
I bought a car. The absolute right decision for me. It was a small SUV and I have hauled MAJOR things in it at least twice a week ever since purchasing it. We did our entire move except for our bed just the two of us in that car.
I began stalking HOUSES on craigslist. I did not want to move into another apartment. I love the weather in Portland—you can actually BE outside and I wanted an outdoor space of my own. I went for weeks on end to see houses by myself. And every time before I left Drew said "you know we're not moving, right?" And every time I said "I KNOW. I'm just looking." We both knew I was lying.
Did I want to up our rent by $250 a month? No. I kept thinking if I were in St. Louis I could buy a pretty decent house for this. But you know what? I don't want a house in St. Louis. Don't get me wrong—at times I literally ache for St. Louis. Weird things… St. Louis' trees, a certain intersection, a certain type of architecture, my family, my friends. But even so, I don't believe St. Louis is the place I want to call home. I am not sure Portland is. I would still like to be on the ocean… BUT Portland has grown on me sooooo much.
We have met OUTSTANDING people. And I am not saying that in a bullshitty way. I mean people I want to keep in contact with if I or they ever move. People that make me laugh. Snarky, sarcastic, big hearted girls (my favorite).
I have seen more beauty in this one state (and I still haven't seen much of it) then I honestly thought existed in the whole country (that may be a bit of an exaggeration, but not by much).
People are NICE and ENGAGING. The teenage girls at Starbucks surprise me with their genuine friendliness (that was not me in my barista days).
Berry-picking, pumpkins, clouds, french toast, the ocean, reading on the beach, art openings, wearing a sweatshirt in May, campfire and chimney smells on every street, MOSS, sitting in the shade of a tree at the park, my backyard, potlucks… these things have come to mean Portland to me.
Why am I sharing all this? Being our Portland year anniversary it felt like a good time to reflect. It was a year of some major personal struggles and some minor relationship ones… but with all that said it still wasn't as nearly as hard as I thought a major move would be. I would do it all over again… so I guess I made the right decision. Thanks Portland… I wonder what this next year will bring.
