25 August 2006

ramblings from portland

It was on the way home somewhere between 12th and 14th Street, looking back on the building where he lived without the knowledge of my love, that I decided it was time. It is time to let go of Portland, let go of the life that once brought me somuch comfort and joy, and move on the new life which lays in wait for me.

A conversation with my dear friend, Jeff over the reminants of tiramisu and gelato hit home. How can I begin a new life with my heart still attached to PDX? The friendships will not be over if I move permantely and the memories I cherish so much can be packed and moved. Selling my loft saddens me to think about but Jeff is absolutely correct when he explained how a house looses its home feel once everything is out, off the walls, and packed away.

Heartache is an actual phenomenon. I don't cry very often and when I do break down, it is uaually in private. I am person who likes to talk things out but now I search my list of friends to match this mood I am in, and I come up with none.

The question in my final interview that is now prompted in my mind now was..."What is going to be the most difficult thing for you about this upcoming change?" I answered quickly, my girl, I will miss her dearly. The recruiter was very symathetic to my answer and told me she had the same dilemia. I can't wait for George to move to the big city, it breaks my heart to leave her once more.

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I got a ride to the airport this morning nice and early before my 0950 flight. I went to check in and got an error message about my baggage. I went up to the agent and found out that ol' brillant here booked myself on the red-eye instead of my imaginary flight home. What does this mean for my life? Well, since I already exhausted my ride to the airport, I am stuck here for five hours to entertain myself. It also means that I will not be home now until 2200 at which time I have to run to the crew room to fill out my French Visa app and have it signed by a supervisor. Here's hoping the flight arrives in time. I know that you are always supposed to be exactly where you are but I have yet to decifer the meaning of being at PDX right now. Thus far I ahve had my hair cut, ate some eggs benidect, drank 2 mimosas, ran into the lady whose home I stayed at during my first week in Portland, got a Starbucks, read some of my book (Naked by David Sederias--highly recommend), talked to a stranger with a camera, and silently bitched about my luck.

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