Women I Love

Sometimes it still doesn't seem real that I'm back in Portland. I've been here for almost six months and I still get little thrills at random moments, remembering that I'm here. I didn't realize how important it is to be around close girl friends until I didn't have any for a year. Being able to see Rose and buy weird cat/dog mom sweaters together in Christmas colors, whenever I want, is never going to get old. We've been friends since 5th grade, and it's so awesome that we've stayed so close for all this time, and I'm over the moon about living so close to her.

I was thinking a while ago that if my high school self could have envisioned the perfect life for my future 27-year-old self, this would pretty much be it. I'm in a city I love with so many people who I love, and pursuing the things that matter to me. Coming back to Portland was the best decision I've ever made, and it feels like it was meant to be. I found a job I really like, a place to live with an amazing housemate, and an awesome writing group. Things just super worked out, and I'm so happy about that!

This weekend I spent a lot of time talking with women who I love, trust, and whose thoughts I value. Being able to share my life with people who are so important to me, and who make me feel so loved and supported, is incredible. And it means even more to me now, after a year in Utah where I didn't know anyone, and missed my girl friends so much I cried about it every weekend for the first several months of living there. 

When I had my tarot reading a few months ago, I was told that three women would be helping me to heal in this tumultuous period of my life. But every single woman I love, far more than just three, has been there for me, healing me, and supporting me. I feel so lucky to know so many amazing women. Thank you all for being in my life! You know who you are.

Valentine's Day Eve

I don't know why I decided I need to blog every day now. I've completely run out of interesting things to say. 

Tomorrow is Valentine's Day, in case you somehow missed it. I mean it's kinda hard to miss sometimes. I wish people would speak up about these holidays beforehand, you know? I'm lucky I even remembered it this year, what with nobody talking about it at all anywhere.

Usually I'd be preparing to vom all over my instagram feed tomorrow when everyone starts posting pics of the flowers and chocolates that got delivered to them at work or whatever, but this year I'm super okay with the whole thing! This year I get to be my own valentine. And since I'm the one treating myself, I can't possibly let myself down or be disappointed. So much better than knowing your boyfriend is gonna do fuck all when any holiday rolls around, and then act put-upon when you ask if he wants to celebrate somehow.

No, I'm not bitter! I'm really not. I just don't understand how I didn't do all of this sooner -- break up with Greg, move back to Portland, everything. I feel happier and more fulfilled now than I've felt in such a long time. I don't have this dead weight of a boyfriend dragging around with me everywhere, bringin' me down. And I'm really excited to celebrate Valentine's Day with my single friends!

I hope all of you attached people have super awesome boyfriends/husbands/girlfriends/wives/things who are pulling out all the stops for you tomorrow. Or I hope you at least eat some delicious food, because if you do nothing else on a holiday, you should at least eat so much food that you have to be rolled home like Violet Beauregarde.

Testosterone Pellet

Who needs contextually relevant photos when you have PBR bus? Nobody.

I slept through my alarm this morning, like an idiot. In my defense, I think the sound was just turned way down on my phone? Okay that's not really in my defense at all. Well, whatever happened, I woke up at 7:00 sharp and did that thing where you look at the time on your phone three times, each time with growing horror, and then yell "fuck!" and jump out of bed with an adrenaline rush. The one good thing to come of my oversleeping is that Louise was up before me and had made coffee just in time to force some upon me as I ran out the door. I don't think I've said enough how awesome my housemate is. Oh, I have? Well I'll say it again. Louise is awesome.

After work I picked Rose up downtown and we went to American Apparel on Hawthorne. I always want to go into American Apparel because they have awesome basics, but the one time I went in there by myself I felt like I was being silently judged by the hipsters working there. So this time I dragged Rose with me because we're both too scared to go there alone, and because we're used to being judged together as a pair ever since we started wearing matching clothes in middle school. It turned out that the hipsters working there were super nice and not judgey at all though, so our fear was unfounded. And then I ended up buying three pleated skirts because I was told that the third one would be 50% off. I can't resist a bargain, you guys. I literally cannot ever. So I spent a lot of money on skirts, is the finale of that story.

When I returned home I ate a bowl of Brussels sprouts because I am obsessed with them and can't stop eating them, and found that a package had come from Urban Outfitters that I forgot I'd ordered. Oops. I may have a shopping problem. At least it's not a meth problem? I dunno. Tell me which is worse, guys.

Anyway, my workshop last night went really well! Everyone said my writing was really strong, but were all in agreement that Cecily needs to be more likable, or at least relatable. Which, let's be honest, is literally the exact same thing that everybody else has said about my book! Other than my mom and Lucy, because they're biased. But everyone had really useful suggestions for ways to make Cecily more relatable, so I got a lot out of it. I'm hoping to get in on a long form workshop later this month, where everyone submits around 50k words and then we're given a longer time to read and workshop all of the submissions. I'm so glad I found this writing group, because it's gotten me all excited about writing again, and when I'm excited about writing my whole life lights up.

And now it is time for me to dry my hair again, because apparently I only blog when my hair is up in a towel after I shower. I mean what else am I going to do during that time, right? Be productive and do laundry or something? No.

P.S. Can someone stop me from using the stupidest titles in my blog posts? No? Okay.

Slush Day

Selfies with Lyall always go awry. One of us inevitably ends up looking stupid. Or, in this case, both. And yet I continue to do it, all the time. 

Today was a good day. I got to work late because the first bus that came by my stop was "drop off only" (okay whatever guys), and the next one got stuck at the next stop and the driver had to make somebody go out and tell him when there was no traffic so he could back up out of the ice. But I made it to work! I probably could have stayed home and worked remotely, but I was so fucking stir crazy after being pretty much trapped inside all weekend.

After work I took the bus to my poor stranded car, where I had planned to get in and speed away all cool out of the slush, with my sunglasses on, yeaahhhhh. But I was actually still stuck in the snow. So I had to call Louise's boyfriend and make him shovel all the snow and ice out of the way, and then he and two strangers who came out of the woodwork helped me push my car out of the mire. Has anyone else noticed that strangers are always coming out of the woodwork to make themselves helpful in Portland? It's like you can't go two steps without someone being pleasant or useful to you in some way. Disconcerting after living in London, but I still love it. Because Portland.

Then Louise, her boyfriend, and I all met up at the Tabor Tavern for happy hour. Next time I'm getting the cauliflower fritters. And not the chili. Warning, future self: always ask if the chili is spicy before you order it.

And then, for some godforsaken reason that nobody will ever fully understand, Louise made us all go to Pix Patisserie, which was amazing and horrible and we ordered like two tiny things to share, and I felt like I was going to fold in on myself, the dessert in my stomach was so dense. Oh man.

Anyway. Tomorrow the first chapter of my book is being workshopped at the writing group, and I'm super nervous. The groups are switched up every week so I'm not sure I even know everyone who will be giving me feedback, and ugh. I'm super worried nobody will get it and everyone will think I'm the worst writer they've ever come across and will throw me out into the street and start chucking slush at me.

I mean it's a rational fear though.

I'm really excited, despite the terror. Hopefully this will motivate me to actually revise my novel a bit more, and maybe actually make it publishable? Maybe? Eh. We'll see. In the meantime I've started the "coming to Portland" short story, which is painfully autobiographical so far and could stand to be more interesting. Sometimes real life is interesting, but other times it's just a long string of really pointless dialogue with no apparent purpose.

Just like my novel.

Haha I'm kidding!! Am I? No. Okay. I'm going to bed. Because I work at an unholy hour and I still have to dry my hair.

Snow Day

Check out this snow, guys! This is from Thursday after work, and it's been snowing off and on since. Cars are covered in snow, people are skiing around town; it really is a... dare I say it, snowpocalypse?? Okay I fucking hate the term "snowpocalypse" because everyone uses it every time it snows anywhere, even in places where it's supposed to snow in the winter, but in Portland the whole city shuts down when it snows.

Unfortunately, for whatever hellish reason, I broke out in really bad hives right after I took this picture. So now I'm laid up at home, itchy and bright red and kinda miserable. I'm comforted by the fact that I probably wouldn't be out doing anything in this snow anyway, but I'd like the option. I wish there was some way to know what the fuck these hives are all about. Every doctor and allergist I go to says something different. Two doctors have been convinced it's a food allergy, one allergist says it's probably a viral infection, but the third doctor thinks it's definitely not. For now I'm not eating any berries, chocolate, or artificial food coloring, because I ate all three of those on Thursday and apparently they're common causes of hives, and the doctor told me not to. And I'm taking so many steroids I might Hulk out at any moment and run screaming about town, clothes torn asunder.

I think I could write a full novel just about how much I hate these hives and wish they would fuck off forever and die, but that would be entertaining for no one! I have been thinking about writing a lot though, since I joined the writing group. We're going to try to put together an anthology of short stories about "coming to Portland", with a sort of existential theme? I really want to write something for it, but I can't come up with anything that would make a good story. Writing about myself seems narcissistic (said the blogger), especially if it turns out to be an unbearably boring story. Plus my experiences seem so cliche and uninteresting. Oh, I broke up with my boyfriend and moved away, so exciting! I was unemployed for a bit and went on some dates later, wow! Portland is great and moving here made me happy! All of these are things that could, and have, happened to someone else. How do I write something engaging and meaningful that's true to who I am, but not affected and pretentious? And most of all, something that hasn't been done before?

I've always had such a hard time writing short stories. With novels you can let the words run a little bit wild. But with short stories, every sentence needs to work for its keep. And it's so easy to let plot or character take the center stage, letting the other fall into the background. Balance is hard. I was never good at writing short stories, but it's something I want to get better at. Maybe I just need to start writing with no plan in mind and see where that takes me. I don't know how else to begin at this point! What would you do?

Now I think it's time to drag myself out of the Pit of Sadness (my room), take a very lukewarm shower, and stop being such a giant sad sack.

Video Game Music

I talk about this a lot, but oh well. Have another post about video games and/or their music.

Last night I was having a serious bout of nostalgia over video game music. Some people say smells bring back the strongest memories, but for me it's always been music. I used to listen to Enya while falling asleep after my dad would read Lord of the Rings to me every night, and so I've always associated Enya's Shepherd Moons with those books. I always listen to music when I read, so I have a very long list of books that go with specific albums or songs.

But when I associate music with a specific period in my life, that evokes such strong emotion that I feel like I'm almost traveling back in time, feeling the exact emotions I felt when I was listening to a certain song or artist, months or years in the past. Florence + the Machine's Ceremonials will always bring me back to London, riding the bus on dark rainy nights, watching the blurred lights of the city pass me by as I lean against the fogged-up windows.

When I listen to music from video games, though, it's powerful in a different sense. It's bringing me back, not to a time or place in my own life, but in another world altogether. I've never been a realist, and I much prefer escaping into fantasy worlds to doing whatever it is other people do (read crime novels? Eat cereal? I don't know). Video games are so important to me in that respect. They're not a waste of time or a distraction, as many people would see them. Last year while I was in Utah, I was trying to figure out what I could do to make myself happier, so I made this thing Greg suggested -- a value map. I had to write down my most important life values, and then gauge how my life was staying true to those values. One of mine was "escapism". It's a term with negative connotations, but it's always been of incredible importance to me. Ever since I was a kid, my dad and I escaped into magical worlds together. We both longed so much to eat at the tables of Rivendell, to lie on our backs in the grass of the Shire and gaze up into the sun-dappled trees. We ached to open up a wardrobe and find ourselves in Narnia. It was such a huge part of my childhood, and I wouldn't be who I am today without that desire to go somewhere new, and magical, and full of adventure.

I never stopped yearning for those worlds. When I started playing WoW it was for a boyfriend, but I hadn't expected to be so drawn to that world. It was beautiful. There were skies with northern lights that you would never see on this earth, mountains that disappeared into the clouds, fjords guarded by dragons, islands that drifted in the sky. Sometimes it took my breath away. It felt like I was really there, in that world, a world that would never exist in this reality. And there was always music. 

It's silly, but I remember the day the Wrath of the Lich King expansion came out, and I boarded the zeppelin that would take me from Orgrimmar to the Howling Fjord. That music, the music you can only hear on the zeppelin for some tragic reason, made me cry. Which was the first in a series of Meg-crying-in-Northrend moments, but as silly as it sounds, it really meant something to me. And it still does.

So when I listen to music from a video game that I love, it not only reminds me of the fun I had playing that game, but it brings me fully into the world again. Listening to music from Fable II takes me to the shores of a lake, gazing across dark water to the distant lights of the city, and above them, Fairfax Castle. Last night I spent a long time listening to music from games I used to play ages ago on the N64, and was instantly in those worlds again. It's comforting being able to get so close to reliving past moments that way, if sad in its own way. But you know me. I love a bit of melancholy.

And if you're really bored, here are some of my favorite songs from video games.

That song on the Northrend zeppelin:

Bower Lake, from Fable 2:

People have been known to say that video games aren't art, but I can't see how one could possibly think that. Just look at the music, guys. I could listen to video game music all day every day and be happy. It's some of the most beautiful music I've come across. Not to mention amazing concept art, as showcased above, from Fable and World of Warcraft.

And okay I've never actually played Skyrim (I know I know, shame), but you should really check out this arrangement of the theme. It's incredible. You're welcome.

Happy & Home

I've been thinking about my home and how much I love it. I haven't really loved my home this much since I lived in Portland last. Which I guess says something about Portland. Maybe everywhere feels like home here, because this city feels so much like home. Either way, I revel in my own room, decorated the way I want, shared with my little dog and way too many DVDs (I have no other bookshelves you guys it's a sad state of storage affairs).

Today I got up at 9:45 on my own, which is insanely early for me on a weekend, and spent the day getting things done. I didn't go out at first because I've been feeling under the weather -- strep throat, hurray? -- but I baked brownies, trimmed Lyall's toenails, did two loads of laundry, took Lyall for a walk, helped Louise organize the shed out back, and joined her on a Fred Meyer mission to gather ingredients for these bad boys. Then we went out for fish & chips with her boyfriend, and here I am now, snug in bed with clean sheets and clean pajamas, totally content.

I haven't felt this at home in a long time. I know I bang on about it all the time, but Portland is it for me. I'm not going anywhere. I've only lived here for what amounts to about... well, a little less than two years total, but it feels like forever. I love it so fucking much. And good friends can make any place feel like home.

I've joined a new writers group, which is really exciting as well. I've only been to one meeting so far, but it seems like it'll be really fun, and a good way to meet other writers in Portland. Plus it seems like a lot of the writers lean toward scifi/fantasy, so I'll fit in nicely. I'm hoping to get some feedback on my novel, which I want to revise a bit more and start shopping around again. I'm so excited to start writing again, and talk about writing, and read other writers' work. I'm just excited about LIFE YOU GUYS. Because Salt Lake City was the actual worst, and I thank god every damn day that I'm not in that horrible place anymore. 

I also thank god for the following:

1. Modern medicine. Oh my god modern medicine yes. I had strep throat but now it's almost completely gone! Because pills! And I feel amazing!
2. Health insurance. Oh my gaawwwd health insurance you guys, is like Christmas every day when you have a boatload of weird health problems like I do! Went to urgent care and didn't pay a thing. And my employer pays for my health insurance completely because I have the greatest job of all time. Which brings me to...
3. My jorb. I love it. I get to edit grammar and spelling and punctuation all day because I'm a copy editor of sorts and it is grand. I work downtown and I can get lunch with Rose and I take the bus every day and I just can't get over how awesome it is!
4. My dog. Lyall makes me laugh, keeps me on my toes, loves me unconditionally, and gives me an excuse to take walks in the gorgeous late afternoon sun. Also he is a cuddly heater on cold winter nights. He's everything.
5. Louise. She is the greatest housemate. She is the greatest house/roommate I think I have ever had, and it's amazing! She brought me tea the other night when I was a sack o' sick. And she bought me caffeine free Diet Coke one night when I wanted a Coke but it was near my bedtime. She's the best okay.
6. EVERYTHING ELSE BECAUSE MY LIFE IS AWESOME. This list could very well go on forever and ever okay so I'm just gonna calm down and stop now.

So yup, life is good. Life is tremendously good. I am home, and I am happy.