Portland Trip Day 4-5

Before Beth yells at me again, I best finish this up. But before I do, I’d like to quickly point out my occasional love of working in the IT field. Working in IT you get your occasional idiot co-workers, but for the most part the brains working in this industry are pretty intense. And with that said, people with big brains of computer knowledge are also pretty good of knowing how to do a great many things in a short period of time allowing for many hours of doing…nothing in particular. And I’m not just talking internet trolling. I’ve seen so many odd things in my 11 years in this field. People cooking s’mores on their desk with a mini stove. Domino tournaments. Chair races. Origami lessons (one of my own…). Endless practical jokes. The list goes on. I was reminded of all this when last Friday afternoon I heard a buzzing sound coming from 5 cubes over. As I looked up, there was a remote control helicopter flying past. While that was funny, by Monday there were two helicopters flying around. As of today, there are two helicopters, one remote control race car with working headlights, and one NERF ball gun ready to take out any and all of the objects mentioned. I’ve been debating setting up speed bumps around my cube and a radio control tower in the corner to manage the traffic for tomorrow’s additions. I have a love\hate relationship with IT, but this is definitely one of the loves.

Sorry for that tangent…on to the last days of the Portland trip.

SO…

…from camping, Beth and I headed straight to Portland to check into the hotel. We were dirty and smelly, which is always entertaining when walking into a semi-fancy establishment. We had decided to do some laundry before we went for the evening which would have been so easy, except it wasn’t.

The Scenerio:

Beth and Moe both have 1 load of laundry each. Their room is located on the 6th floor. The laundry room is located on the 10th floor. There are three elevators going from the 6th floor to the 10th floor. In the laundry room there are two washing machines and four dryers. If Beth and Moe have 75 cents in quarters and $10 in cash, how long will it take to do two loads of laundry?

The Supposed Answer:

After getting the correct amount of change from the front desk, it should take Beth and Moe approximately 2 hours to wash and dry two loads of laundry when there are two washers and four available driers.

The Actuality:

Of the three functioning elevators, only the dodgy one appears to be programmed to go to the 6th floor. 10 minutes
After getting change from front desk, head to the 10th floor. 5 minutes
Load laundry in two washers. Put coins in vending machine for laundry soap. Vending machine is broken. Head back down to front desk. 15 minutes
Wait in room for front desk to bring up laundry soap. 25 minutes
Head back up to the 10th floor to start laundry. 10 minutes
Wait for laundry to finish. 1 hour
Head back to the 10th floor to flip laundry. 10 minutes
Realize washing machine number 1 didn’t wash clothes. Thought it was user error. Started laundry again only to realize that the machine isn’t filling with water. Unable to get clothes out due to locking mechanism. Head back downstairs to complain. 20 minutes
Wait while washing machine finishes a cycle with no water. 40 minutes.
Load clothes load #1 into washing machine #2. Head to room. 10 minutes.
Wait for washing machine to finish. 60 minutes.
Head back up to the 10th floor. 10 minutes
Use 3 of the dryers for load #2 in hopes that it will “catch up” with load #1. Head back downstairs to room. 10 minutes.
Wait for driers. 60 minutes
Head back to the 10th floor. 10 minutes.

TOTAL: 5 hours and 55 minutes.

I must have counted wrong or did some serious exaggerating. It took us about 4 hours in the end, but it certainly felt a lot longer, especially when we were now dressed and ready to hit the town of Portland.



During all this time of waiting, Beth and I had decided to go out for Indian food. It was Sunday after all. Since we had all this time, we did some research on the internet looking for the best Indian food in the Portland area. I wish I could remember the name of the place, but we finally decided on this one that got some really good reviews on a couple different sites.

When we were finally ready, we headed downstairs to the front lobby to ask if the hotel shuttle could take us there. The concierge looked at the name and address of the place and said (and I quote!) “Oh, I’ve heard they’re good.” We hoped into the hotel shuttle with another guy (who was running late to a church thing but agreed to let us get dropped off first) and off we went. Except that the driver wasn’t sure of the address and went back inside to check it out. And once we were close, he kept going around a 5 block radius looking for this restaurant but couldn’t find it. Beth and I were starting to feel incredibly guilty about the guy who was late to church to we just told the shuttle driver to drop us off and we’d find it ourselves. So he did. Beth and I started walking up the block and when we were about a half block away, we realized why the driver kept missing it. The “restaurant” that got rave reviews on multiple websites and the same “restaurant” that the concierge said “Oh, I heard they’re good” wasn’t exactly a restaurant at all. It was a Roach Coach set up in a parking lot. I kick myself that this was the one day I did not have my camera with me. I turned to Beth and said, “I’m not really comfortable about this” which she responded, “I’m not comfortable with it either” and we went down the street and ate at another place (which I can’t remember the name which is why I should write these things right after I do them) and had some steak and fish. Before you think me snobby, I have eaten from many a Roach Coach. This difference from the times I have and this time was that when I do venture into the realms of the dodgy Roach Coach, I’ve usually been drinking. Without the safety of booze\antiseptic running around in my stomach, I need to stay away.

Right after dinner our friend, Diana, called us up and said she and her friends would meet us after they had dinner. Beth and I took the free light rail and walked around the Pearl District waiting for Diana to call back. When she did, we were having our first beers of the night (and actually, our only beers of the night) at a …brewery…whose name I can’t remember because I took too long to write this out. Her friends picked us up and took us across the river to the cool part of town (whose name I can’t remember) where we had these awesome desserts from a place (whose name I can’t remember) that makes only desserts. There were 7 of us and I DO remember that sitting outside with these very cool people, drinking coffee, talking general nonsense and eating awesome desserts reminded me very much of my what would have been my college years had I attended a proper college. I had a great time and was a bit sad when Diana’s group wanted to go home so that they could do something called “wake up early” and “work in the morning”.

A very special sushi place. No, we didn't eat here.

The next day Beth and I slept in (and didn’t work in the morning). When we were finally dressed and ready to go, we headed out to the Japanese Gardens. We stupidly didn’t eat before we went and the entire time I was moody as hell. The old ladies looking at trees were bugging me. The little kids coo-ing at waterfalls annoyed me. The 95 degree plus humidity annoyed me. The small foot paths annoyed me. Beth (and thankfully she is my best friend and we can state these things about each other) annoyed me. Hell, I annoyed myself. I really need to eat breakfast. I think we walked the entire gardens and were in the car looking for a restaurant in under an hour. I did remember to take some pictures though.





I learned the hard way that this is not a "fancy" water fountain (aka: bubbler)

During our walking about the Pearl District the day before, we had run across this café that I knew I had to eat in before we left Portland. It was another one of those places that I would have been a regular in during my college-aged years. And because I took a picture of it I can tell you with confidence that it was called the ByWays Café. And it was great and I fully intend to write the owners a letter and tell them to open one in Southern California.







After breakfast\lunch, we headed back to where the Japanese Gardens were to see the free International Rose Test Garden. They had a bunch of lilies and daisies there.



Oh! I remember…they were roses.




Sorry, bad joke.

After the garden was more wandering about, some shopping, a couple cocktails, and finally food again. After not having Indian food the day before, we were really REALLY in the mood to have some. Taking up a suggestion of Diana’s friends, we headed to the India House (which I don’t have a picture of but can still remember due to the joke I will tell in a few sentences). So Beth and I order our dinners…it really doesn’t matter what we ordered because every single one of the dish came out covered in cilantro. Have I ever mentioned my aversion to cilantro? That I honestly think it tastes like a combination of soap and dirt? That I am an active member of ihatecilantro.com? Now, don’t get me wrong. I’ve eaten at plenty of Indian places and I understand they normally sprinkle most of their dishes with this vile herb. The key word here is “sprinkle” and not “slather”. If one “sprinkles”, one can easily remove. If one “slathers” to the point where you can’t tell where the cilantro starts and the food ends, it’s a problem. When I called over my waiter and (I swear!) very nicely asked for my food without cilantro and waiter looked at me and said, “Indian food always has lots of cilantro.” Not wanting to argue and have my new food get spit on, I didn’t say a word. By the way, the dish, even without the vile cilantro was pretty bad. I guess what I’m saying is, if you would like a heaping bowl of cilantro generally mixed with tomato paste, by all means, go to the India House…or as I like to call it, the Cilantro House.



Sadly this club wasn't open when we tried to go in.

After dinner I was annoyed again (probably because I was still hungry) so Beth appeased me by going to another very awesome place that we had run across the day before…the Low Brow Lounge. I remember that name because at first I kept getting it wrong and Beth, patiently at first but later with annoyance, kept correcting me.

“The No Good Pub?”

“Low Brow Lounge.”

“The Low Down Bar?”

“Low Brow Lounge”

“High Brow…”

“LOW Brow Lounge”

“Bad Ass Café?”

“LOW BROW LOUNGE!”

“Sorry”



After a couple cocktails there, I paid for a cab to take us back over to the cool part of town whose name I don’t remember but it was near that dessert coffee house whose name I can’t remember. We played some pool, generally laughed and talked, and finally ended up at this lounge where we discovered we were quite tipsy on vodka sodas. I know we were tipsy because we were arguing politics which is something that Beth and I know not to bring up to each other. Far Right, meet Far Left. We tried to get the bartender involved but he was smart enough to keep out of it. At bar close he was very happy to call us a cab. I’m sorry bartender from that lounge from the cool part of town that was electric blue inside, you seemed nice.

The electric blue lounge whose name I don't remember.

"Care for a political argument?"

Unfortunately that was the last outing of the trip. The next morning Beth got the shuttle at noon to catch her flight and I spent a good hour trying to navigate downtown traffic to return the rental car and make it in time to catch my train.

Portland Trip: Day 2-4

Since I’ve been watching pictures of the wedding and reception and camping and general good time-ness flash endless on my laptop, I suppose I should get around to describing it. Sorry for the delay (Beth!).

Bux has been my friend since high school; sophomore year to be exact. It was English with Ms. Rhode and I sat in the front row between the two Jasons (which I have never in my life called them by). Long legged Bux to my left, long legged Soch to my right. I’m sure we worked on a few Macbeth projects together at some point, but the whole end result was that we became pretty good friends. It amazes me sometimes how some people stay with you well after the period of time that you knew them in has passed. Beth is one of them (kindergarten) and Bux is another. Since I have a habit of moving out of state (again and again), keeping in touch with people has never been easy. But somehow I kept in touch with Bux. I guarantee it was more the result of his efforts then mine, but it worked and there you go. Have I mentioned that Bux is 6’8”? He’s my tallest friend and incredibly huggable. That has no point to the story but I had to mention it. Anyhow, it was St. Patrick’s Day two St. Pats past when Bux sent me a little picture on my phone with a picture of his girlfriend. You could tell he was pretty proud as he’s never sent me a picture of his girlfriend before. About 10 months after that came the wedding invitation. I couldn’t have been happier for him. I was also happy to hear that it was an informal affair taking place in an Oregon campground. I hate panty hose, I really do.

Cape Lookout State Park

To pick up where I left off last time, Beth and I arrived at Lookout State Park around 4 in the afternoon…wearing nice clothes and full makeup. We said hi to everyone and had a beer, hoping that we would stay pretty long enough for everyone to see us pretty before we had to change and start the camping dirt on skin process. We lasted about 45 minutes and then I started to panic that all the good tent spots would be gone. So I changed into my two sizes too big jeans and my bad $3 on sale at Old Navy t-shirt and started pitching my borrowed tent next to a tree in the 2nd site (there were 5 sites in total in the group site). This decision turned out to work well for us (Beth pitched her tent next to mine) as the 2nd site was the gathering grounds for all the late night parties-short stumble from fun to bed.

Tents perfectly placed
Beth, Bux, and Lou

Soon after the tents were up, the wood guy (which c’mon, sounds a bit dirty, doesn’t it?) came around and bundles were bought. Then the fire started up and the cooking began. I like the below picture by the way…Beth and I had tried to start the fire and we were doing…OK, then Mr. I-used-to-be-a-boy-scout comes around and completely shows us up. The guy’s name was Terry, but I thought he looked like a Kent and called him such the entire time we were there. Not that he reads this, but sorry Terry-come-Kent. You were a good sport and a great fire starter.

Kent takes over...

Finally, Bux’s bride-to-be, Krissy, showed up and we paparazzi-ed her.


The bride to be

As the day wore on, more people showed up. Some old high school friends, some people I had previously met visiting Portland, and other people I had never met but who were all really cool. We ate and drank and talked. I’m not sure what time we went to bed finally but I’m sure I wasn’t the only one with a damaged head in the morning.


Diana, Jeff, and Beth

After breakfast and a shower, we all started to get ready for the wedding. It was to take place at the picnic grounds, overlooking the ocean…a short walk from the group camp site. Bux and Krissy had decided not to hire a professional photographer. There was really no need, every one of us had a digital camera and used it. The ceremony was nice (and short!) and the barefooted bride and groom were married (that is officially the corniest line in this post people). The reception was right there as well, with BBQ chicken and pulled pork, cupcakes, two kegs of beer and wine as far as the eye could see. Man, I’m not describing this well. Enjoy the pictures; I think you’ll get the gist.


Drinking beer at the ceremony...awesome!








By 6 PM we all, including the one remaining keg, headed back to the campgrounds. There was more of same eating, drinking, talking….and headache in the morning. It was a great time. Well, not the headache bit, but the rest of it.




Dog Butt!

After two days of dirt, Beth and I were anxious to get to our Portland hotel for a nice shower and cloths laundering. We said our good-byes, stopped for a much needed Starbucks fix, and headed to Portland.

Beth and Diana talk it out...whatever "it" is.

NEXT TIME….PORTLAND….

Portland Trip: Day One and Two

Ah, summer vacations. Long past the days where we can look forward to three blissful months off of doing nothing in particular (save those souls with grown up teaching positions) the grown up us has to plan a measly week or two away from our soulless jobs and try to cram in three months of bliss into it. There’s a lot of pressure on our grown up summer vacations. They have to be good and exciting, yet lazy and relaxing. Depending on the type of person you are, you’ll have a list of all the necessary things that must happen on your vacation for it to qualify as great. Depending on the type of person you are you may even have designated time slots that simply read: Relax Time.

It was about three years ago that I really started planning a specified summer vacation. I had previously just taken my vacation anytime in the year where I felt I needed a one. Recently I realized that I NEED a summer vacation as much as I need a Christmas break. It breaks up the monotony of work days and generally makes me a saner person. When I got the invite for my buddy, Bux’s, wedding I immediately decided to take my summer vacation around the event. Plus, it would be in Portland, which is awesome.

Without going into gas prices (because I couldn’t say anything that hasn’t been said before) let’s just say that I decided to take the Amtrak train to Portland because 1) Even with a sleeper car, the cost would be only $50 more than driving there and back and 2) President Bush’s little stim-u-lie package was just enough to fund the cost. Before you give me a speech on how flying is faster than both the train and driving, let me gently remind you of my aversion to flying…or more specifically, heights. Kevin also wasn’t able to come with me (or when we are frank, I couldn’t come with him because of the flying thing) because his youngest brother was getting married on the exact same date (and oddly, the exact same time when factoring in the time zone difference) in Virginia. Congrats to Ryan and Liz by the way!

OH and three paragraphs down and on a completely unrelated topic, Kevin proposed to me the Saturday before I left. I will give details later, I promise. I just wanted to let you all know because I just realized that I hadn’t mentioned it yet. There, consider it mentioned.

Portland Trip: Day One\Day Two

Most people don’t really enjoy hearing about how a person gets to a destination. I realize this…but I also don’t care. It’s my blog after all. You don’t have to read it if you don’t want to. Hee.

I caught the Pacific Surfliner in Irvine on Wednesday morning at about 8 AM. The train was busy and I had decided to bring the world’s most awkward suitcase. It’s huge and it’s heavy. Basically it’s the type of suitcase that would fit a small child comfortable and strangely feels like there is one inside too. I only brought this suitcase because Bux’s wedding was a camping affair so I had to bring supplies…sleeping bag, pillow, sleeping mat, as well as all my camping clothes. Loaded up, I had a huge difficulty lifting the thing so I blow a kiss to the person who invented luggage wheels. You are awesome, whom ever you are. Anyhow, on the Pacific Surfliner they don’t have a luggage rack on the bottom floor so I was required to drag the luggage beastie up a very small aisled staircase to the top floor and attempt to stow it in a rack that already was quite full with other people’s luggage. I am not proud; I know that I showed some serious plumber’s crack trying to maneuver my bag in. Sorry Wednesday’s Pacific Surfliner heading north to LA passengers. But really, you could have helped a girl out.

Once in LA, there was an hour layover before the Coast Starlight was ready. I almost missed my train waiting for it. I’m so stupid sometimes. I was out on the platform and I could have sworn the train waiting there had Hawaitha on it (which I could have sworn was another one of Amtrak’s trains) so I didn’t board. I just sat there waiting for some mysterious train to arrive, smoking my cigarettes and checking my watch. Finally, at about two minutes before the train was suppose to leave, I asked one of the train people when the Coast Starlight was going to get there. The lady looked at me like I was on crack and jacked her thumb to the train she was standing next to. Two minutes people and I would have missed it. I would have been standing on that platform for an hour with the world’s most awkward suitcase.

Notice the train there on the right? Yeah, that's the Coast Starlight. Totally missed it.

Once on the train, things started to improve. My little sleeper room (and it is little, a bit like a half of a walk-in closet) was cozy and my concierge guy, Tom, was pretty cool. He is a smoker too so whenever there was a stop where I could get out and smoke, he’d knock on my door and let me know, though half the time I was already by the train car door, pawing at my skin with the look of death in my eyes waiting for the train to stop.

Just by coincidence, an old high school friend of mine (also going to Bux’s wedding) was also on the same train with his girlfriend. We had our lunches together which was nice as I really don’t like eating with strangers. I always feel like I have something stuck in my teeth or something. I had also loaded up my laptop with tons of television and movies so I spent the 30 hour train ride holed up in my very small closet-room. I typically only came out for meals, bathroom breaks, smoke breaks and … well, that’s it. I know it’s kind of sad in a way; I missed a lot of beautiful scenery. But never has 30 hours via train gone so quickly.

The train arrived the next afternoon in Portland about 2 hours late. It was 6:05 when I got in and the rental car company that I had a reservation for closed at 6. 5 minutes. Beth had flown in earlier that day and spent a good deal of time getting to the train station to meet me. Of course because of the car rental, we had to take a taxi BACK to the airport to pick up the car. I’m proud to say that this is probably the biggest tragedy of the entire trip so…not so bad when put in perspective.

After getting the mini van (with Texas plates! The drivers of Portland hate us!) we started out on the hour plus drive to the coast to get to the hotel in Tillamook. It was dark at this point and I was tired so poor Beth had to drive the entire way. We were concerned about running into something along the dark road…like elk…or Satsquatch. Thankfully we didn’t run into anything but a fallen tree (not run in, but passed) and by 10 we were in the hotel room with wine doing best friend catch up.

Texas plates! BOO!

Portland Trip: Day Three

Beth and I woke up the next morning and spent a good two hours getting ready. There was a lot of ironing and hair styling and makeup applying. We were going to be going camping in a few hours, we had to look good. It would be the last time in awhile.

Since it was just down the road, we first headed to the Tillamook Cheese Factory. Their cheese is pretty well known in a lot of the country but Beth, straight from the dairy state, had never heard of it. She also made the comment that she lives in WI and never went to a cheese factory…she had to come to Oregon to see one. Typical…you never see the sights you live around. Anyhow, the factory was pretty neat and they have some awesome ice cream and (duh) cheese. I think we might have spent more time in the gift shop then actually checking out the factory which is…typical. Hee.


Mmmmm....Cheese.

After the Tillamook Cheese Factory, we headed down the street to Blue Heron. This was actually one of my favorite stops. They had a $2 wine tasting, a free sample of cheese, and a bunch of farm animals. It was a really odd collection of farm animals too. They had your typical cows, horses, and chickens but then they also had llamas, emus, and a…peacock.


Beth bounds with her cheese maker.

Later in the afternoon we started to head down to Cape Lookout State Park where the wedding would be held the next day. We made a quick detour to check out the state’s largest waterfall…or so someone told us. I’m sorry that I have no idea what this waterfall was called but it had a beautiful foot path to get there.






NEXT TIME…CAMPING, WEDDING, RECEPTION…