25c

11 September 2009
I have overstayed my welcome here in New York City. When the day of the big move back to Portland arrived it was with much relief as I ached for missing the birth of my friend’s daughter, Labor Day bbqs, and friends in general. The previous two nights were in the company of my dear friends Carrie and Lauren. We laughed and enjoyed every second together including the open bar Merrill Lynch party we stumbled upon. There were tears at the good byes and a long walk home still didn’t ease the grief of leaving friends who have made my life bearable here. Breakfast plans were set with Beth at 0930 in order that I wouldn’t drink too much the evening prior, to get up before noon, to finish packing, and to get a hearty meal in. We met at Mogador and ended up talking business and exchanging gifts. It wasn’t as sad to say good-bye to her because I knew that we would be in loads of contact as the business starts and we are doing a dog/house swap come spring.
I walked home in the mist of the day that added a heavier heart to myself and those follow new yorkers whose mind was on the events eight years ago. I used my umbrella unlike a true Oregonian and arrived home around 1200. I promised myself to get everything packed and clean and into the shower by 1430. Things were going pretty well until I figured out the bag was not as big as it was in my mind and I was running out of room. How, why do I have so much crap? I found a box previously used for my destination raffle and packed it full of odds and ends. I rushed down to FedEx at 1400 and it started pouring down rain. After a 13-block walk, I combined my metro cards and hiked back. A quick shower and putting the last of my stuff in the allotted bags end up with: one large, stuffed duffle bag, my roller board, my backpack, two large purses, a whole foods bag, one pillow, and my Hampton’s sun hat. It took three trips to the elevator and then I realized that I was in desperate need of a cab. Trouble is that I didn’t live on a busy enough street, my bags can’t be drug around the block in one load, and it was pouring down rain. Cabs become gold when it is raining. I took my couple of bags around to Spring and prayed no one wanted to walk off with the remaining bags in the lobby. I stood in the rain hailing unlit cabs for 5 minutes before a town car came by. I explained my situation and got the price tag of $20. Done! We sat in traffic and my hopes of making the 1800 flight began to fade. I didn’t arrive to Port Authority until 1630. The ticket guy gave me a big hug goodbye and told me he would miss seeing me. Nicest thing that happened to me all afternoon. The bus driver was also a doll and helped me out with my luggage as we pulled up to terminal c at 1710. There was free cart available and the guy at the check in desk kindly checked my bags and luggage rack without an ounce of attitude. I walked through security quickly (thank you crew id) and made it to the gate 5 minutes before boarding. The cookies to the agent proved golden as I now sit on my own row. The cookies to the crew have allowed me whatever I need to be comfortable. Defiantly not the flight I took Monday, thank god! I rested for a bit prior to my turkey dog and ginger ale. In three hours I land and make my way home. Home to a bed that I can sleep in forever if I like. To my house with my bathroom, windows that open to fresh air, a neighborhood that makes life easy and manageable. I move home to friends, and new career. I move home with world experience, eyes and mind open, a New Yorker in attitude on reserve, and an Oregonian in kindness and consideration.

I leave NYC on the weekend of the VMA awards, the US Open and fashion week and for once, couldn’t give a damn less.

The journey is now complete and in Carries words, come full circle.