Portland Travelogue

You might remember my fabulous trip to Portland almost a year ago to spend some much-needed quality time with my twin-voiced cousin Keri. We drove miles for doughnuts, created metal artwork, shopped for thrift store items and sex toys, danced to ABBA and so much more.

Last week I went back to Portland to return a visiting Grandpa Joe and get in some more cousin time. I just knew that you all would want me to share the action-filled photos from the trip:




Ah, yes. Feet on coffee table. Butts planted firmly on couch. For three days straight.

What you can't see in the photo are the stacks of videos ("Lars and the Real Girl" is my new fave,) stacks of books, wads of kleenex from the multiple good-cry sessions and empty cups that were continually being refilled with warm and boozy Tom and Jerry's. Also not showing is the bit of moisture on the corner of Keri's mouth from drooling as she watched her boyfriend on t.v.


Mmmmmmm. Can you say, "Bob's your uncle?"

No, it wasn't the most adventurous trip we've ever spent together.

It was much better than that. There's something exceptionally wonderful about spending time with someone who feels like home. Who represents where you come from and reminds you of your roots. Someone whose life will be interconnected with yours no matter where you go and what you do. Someone who will sing the Swedish Chef song with you in perfect harmony. That's what Keri does for me.

And for those of you who are worrying that my crazy road trip days are over, don't be. I'm going to San Francisco this weekend, so prepare yourselves now. Big hands and drag queens go very well together.

A few goodbyes and a couple of hellos.

With a sigh of relief I said farewell to 2008 on December 31. The last few months of the year have been unbelievably difficult, but about three weeks ago I uncurled myself from a fetal position, got off the kitchen floor, took a deep breath and an even deeper swallow of tequila and decided to get on with it. I have never been so happy to begin a new year.

Saying goodbye to my life in the Bear River Valley has not been easy. It's the sort of place that creeps into your subconscious and won't let you go. It gets under your skin. Literally. For as I sit writing this, my inner thighs are covered in ugly red welts. They get like this every few days, and when I feel the familiar itching and burning, I know that the Bear River Valley and its state flower, the poison oak plant, have not unleashed me yet.

I've washed all my clothes, towels and sheets. I've scrubbed my shoes. I've cleaned everything I can possibly think of that might have come in contact with the nasty oil. I've even searched my yard here in Loleta for signs of the plant but have found nothing.

I've begun to think that the only answer is that we need closure - the valley and me. So here is my final goodbye to 2008, as well as a hopeful hello to '09. After all, as my Rio Dell grandma would say, "When God closes a door, he never quite closes it all the way, so the wind keeps blowing it open and gets dirt everywhere and you have to chase the chickens out with a broom."

Or something like that.


Goodbye bright blue skies of ABBA ranch.



Farewell, my sweet 2408. You're a punk, but I love you.



Adios, favorite rusty truck.



So long toilet graveyard.



I'll be seeing you, strapping ranch hand. No, really. I'll be seeing you.



Goodbye gorgeous rose of summer.



And goodbye to you, too, chilly rose of winter.



Farewell dry wit and dripping faucets.



See you later, tomato dreams.



It's time to move on, poison oak. Think of this as an opportunity for growth and just let go. You can do it.



And you, beautiful Bear River. I'll miss you the most. Even with the giardia.



Phew.

And so.....

Hello 2009.

Hello hope and happiness and light and laughter.

Hello Gilded Rose.



Hello, delicious cosmopolitan. I know you're oh-so-1998, but I don't care.



And hello drinking companion with big hands.



You know what they say. Big hands, big brain.

Or something like that.

Happy New Year!

Holiday Wishes from CCX

To continue with our Arctic Blast snow theme, I thought I'd share a seasonal photograph of a snowman I saw once while visiting the Sierra foothills.

Happy Holidays! Here at Chocolate Covered Xanax we hope all of your...ahem...biggest....and brightest wishes come true.

Donner, party of 8, your table is ready.

So we're having some snow issues here in Oregon. Let's just get this straight right now. We Oregonians are a mild people. We don't descend from the Norwegians like half of the state of Minnesota. We mostly come from California so we are unprepared for wacky weather like we have seen for the last week. The news stations (who love to name weather systems) have called this storm "Arctic Blast 2008". We here at the gateway to Mount Hood call it "What the @#%#$@^, doesn't God know it's my Christmas break and this is seriously cutting into my plans Blast 2008". I know, pretty similar names.

We're at 3 feet and counting. It's snowed here for the last 3 days straight. I'm seriously considering calling an ambulance for a severe case of cabin fever.

We were able to get out to a neighbor's house today and were rewarded with witnessing a fender bender, 3 cars spinning out, one car missing the road completely and getting stuck on the sidewalk and finally a refill on homemade kahlua by said neighbor. Thank God for kahlua and hot chocolate. I can probably put off the call to 911 now.

Hope you and yours have a Merry Christmas.

Holiday hysteria - it's a gas.

I realize that after admitting the following transgression Heraldo will never make out with me in the backseat of my car again, but while accompanying Bee to her holiday party in Crescent City yesterday, I bought toothpaste at Walmart.

The checkout line was so long that I started to wrestle with the wrapper of the large box of peppermint candy I was also purchasing so that we could eat some while waiting. (They were those delectable melt-aways. I couldn't help myself.)

Suddenly Bee nudged me. "Did you see that?"

I hadn't.

"Some guy just stole something and ran out the door. He threw the box right there."

Not wanting to pry myself away from the task at hand of ripping the plastic off the peppermints, I didn't look up. "What'd he steal?" I asked her.

She giggled. "Beano."

I laughed. "Ha! Yeah, right." I had finally gotten the box open and handed her a peppermint.

"No, seriously. He slipped the Beano out of the box and into his pocket, threw the box down, and ran out the door. Look."

I looked to the place where her finger pointed, and there it was. An open empty box that used to contain Beano.

Why things like this strike me as hilarious is a mystery unto itself, but I laughed until the tears rolled down my face and my stomach hurt and the Walmart clerk looked questioningly at Bee while wondering if she was going to have to call 911.



For a split second on our way out the door I felt a twinge of guilt that neither one of us said anything to an employee about the shoplifter. But then I just shrugged my shoulders because, truly, a person who has to steal Beano from Walmart doesn't really need any more problems in his life.

Shameless Blog Promotion

If you're still looking for the perfect holiday gifts, or if you just need something pretty for yourself, don't miss tonight's Design Collective show at the Accident Gallery. The Design Collective is a series of shopping events that celebrate Humboldt County's local design talent. The Holiday Collective is the 3rd in the series and last for the year!

Like a certain other blogger, I am also a jewelry designer in my spare time and will be there drunkenly hawking my wares. Because there's beer. And food. And a DJ. And admission is free. So it's a good time whether you're shopping or not.

Here's Shane and Monica. Monica is wearing one of my pendants featuring a piece of vintage sheet music that says "Pretty Baby," which she is. (I blatantly stole this picture from Greg without even asking because I'm bad. Very, very bad.)




You can see more of my stuff here, but I really hope to see you tonight!

Sometimes a picture's all I've got.