Thea, whom I still doubt is biologically related, flew into Portland last Saturday from the big city - the only one that really matters, New Yawk. Pray tell, how did she arrive? I told her to wear comfortable shoes. I told her to pack anything that would have been considered cool in middle school... She rolls up to my apartment building at 12am in a shimmering gray Lexus, her driver, a nice enough guy named Matt T---. (I knew this because she texted me his full name when they got into his car, as if that would help were she abducted or minced like beef.) They were practically old friends, having chatted across the US as other Delta Air passengers slept (or hated Thea and Matt for not shutting the fuck up). Sissy, Matt and I quickly became a triumvirate, engaging in nightly excursions to highly reputed restaurants. Perhaps as a result of an upbringing in Boring, Oregon, he located this blog on his own, and I will refrain from saying more to give potential lovebirds privacy. Woops. Chirp. Chirp.
When someone comes to visit me, I relish several aspects of the experience.
1) The Reconnection: Some things just can't translate through phone, text, email, or telepathy. Like my love for Thea.
2) The My How You've Grown Lessons: Surely there are ways we have changed, skills we have acquired, wisdom we have accrued...peccadilloes we can more aptly submerge? It was readily apparent in Portland, perhaps North America's most caffeine obsessed city, that Thea is tormented by the pronunciation of the word "barista." Imagine someone from Queens ordering a latte from a barrister. "Ooooh, bare-ista!" Fortunately, she was a good tipper. Sadly, she still can't appreciate a good cup of coffee and litters it with carcinogenic grains of Splenda.
3) Personal Experimentation: A host can purport herself as the Savvy Local, even if she knows little about her city. Or, just as appealing, she can accompany her guest as an Obnoxious / Oblivious Tourist. (We all stifle this part of ourselves because it's not socially acceptable, yet haven't you ever caught yourself saying, "Since when did Hollywood Video start selling individually packaged pickles?" - When you're with someone you like enough to open your door to, or when you like someone enough that you feel bad rejecting their overly zealous proposals to visit, it reaffirms your sense of self and you stop needing public approval. I really don't care if you agree with my aphorism. Yeah, aphorism.) This, at some point in the past few minutes, explains why I ate a fish eyeball. So Thea could catch a fish in Pike's Fish Market during our 23 hour excursion to Seattle. Even though when the fish flew toward her, she just ducked.
Needless to say, Thea's visit went by too quickly. Portland feels a little emptier without her here. So Matt and I are going to wallow.
(Photos on their way.)
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