Portland and Los Angeles in a Week

I’m still sick. I’ve been sick for all of February. Maybe it’s the price I’m paying for all the exciting things I have planned for 2012 and the good times that have already passed.

My lifelong first visit to Los Angeles, during the last week of January, was short but packed with great times and good company.

We started the week off in Portland. A friend from Atlanta and another from Los Angeles came to see me in Portland, in spite of it being the worst time to visit the Pacific Northwest. That’s true love and friendship right there. I had known them for nearly ten years. The Atlanta friend had already announced she’d see me in Portland and whisk me away to LA as my Christmas present. Her arrival with the LA friend in tow to Portland was a pleasant surprise bonus.

I’m sure Portland must seem like another country or even another planet to my friends. First of all, moss-covered trees are incredibly common once you’re out of city limits. You see trees completely covered in bright green moss with more moss just hanging off them like eerie nymph hair. That’s why they love to shoot ghost and vampire movies in the Pacific Northwest.

Beards grow like that around here, too. I got so used to seeing them that I didn’t know why my friends were pointing at guys with overgrown beards and going “Look at him!” I seriously had no idea what I was supposed to look for. I think men from other states move to Portland just to grow beards in peace. Or maybe they come to Oregon and are inspired by the tree moss to grow their own face moss. In any case, I’ve gotten so used to seeing overgrown beards in Oregon that I just took it as a matter of course that my fiancé would never have to worry about my eyes wandering (I find facial hair to be quite unattractive).

When I picked up my friends at the airport, I told them that my car trunk might be crowded because I still had clamming gear in there.

“Clamming?” asked my LA friend.

The next day, I took them for what my LA friend dubbed “drive-by oceaning”. This involves having the brilliant idea to drive in the windiest rain storm to the coast and nearly get swept into sea along the Coastal Highway.

We drove past Garibaldi and I mentioned that I’d gone clamming here.

“Okay, so what is clamming?” asked my LA friend.

“What do you mean? It’s when you go and dig for clams at the beach.”

“Oh. Well, we don’t do that in the city.”

“… Well, Portland is a city, too.”

I mean, come on. We don’t literally clam in Portland. We leave the city to do outdoorsy things. Don’t people in LA leave the city to do outdoorsy things out in the wild?

And then it occurred to me that that’s what LA people came to do in Portland, which is their idea of the overgrown wilderness of America. My friends probably call their three-night stay at a Marriott in Portland “camping”. I’m sure they both find it very cute that I think of Portland as a real city.

And then came my turn to experience some mini-culture shock, a mere border away.

I didn’t realize how Portlandified I was until my week with my friends. I sort of cringed every time they bought bottled water instead of carrying around reusable bottles. I also took it for granted that you should bus your own table if you’ve paid for your food in advance at the counter, like in coffeeshops or delis. When I was staying at my friend’s house in LA, I cried a little because there was no place to recycle my shopping bag. My friend had to coach me through the process of putting it in the trash can.

I had slept for maybe 2 hours before having to wake up and prepare for my flight. That was the only time I had to pack as well. So, of course, I forgot to pack all the important things like UNDERWEAR and a TOOTHBRUSH. LA asked me if I had never traveled before. You can tell from my story that LA is the mean one It’s totally cool, though, because she let me touch her butt.

I also got stupidly drunk and made a complete idiot of myself. I even had to puke out more alcohol the next day while on a quick errand to buy panties. It’s like I turned 21 all over again, except it’s a lot uglier when a 31-year-old behaves this way. Man, I seriously cannot hold alcohol like I used to. Also, I am apparently an irresponsible traveler who needs chaperoning.

LA suggested we all take a nap after eating ramen and then wake up in time to see the sunset. We all agreed this was a good idea.

So, naturally, we woke up when it was pitch dark. Atlanta tried to cheer us up by mimicking sunrise and sunset with the bedroom lamp dial. After trying not to die of a stomachache from all the laughing, I sat Atlanta down and gave her a makeover.

Girls’ nights like these have been pretty rare throughout my adult life. It’s the same for Atlanta, too. We had always wanted to be able to spend time like this together, to physically be as close as we had felt (in a not gay way, okay). So, when it finally happened, we simply could not believe it would have to end.

After dinner, we walked around Santa Monica. There, a frat boy knelt in front of me and asked me to marry him. His buddy then handed me his camera and made some wacky gestures.

“So, you want me to take your picture?” I asked.

“O, wow. Your English is really good.”

“Maybe because I’m American.” -____-;

There were lots of things that made Los Angeles feel almost like a different country. Driving is so much easier in Portland. I was impressed by the huge billboards written in foreign languages everywhere, as if expecting everyone to be able to read them. Also, people don’t recycle or compost o.O;

…and then I made one amazing discovery…

“Is that a CACTUS?!?! Growing in… THE GROUND?!”

LA got a kick out of that one. She’s used to seeing cacti in the ground like I’m used to seeing bearded hipsters and moss-covered trees.

I got back home, rested for a couple days, met with a local friend who didn’t bother to tell me his companion was sick, caught his companion’s cold; and I’ve been sick ever since. However, I’m still in a happy mood because of all the things I still have to look forward to. I was bummed out about missing Valentine’s Day but it’s such a meaningless day that any day could really be Valentine’s Day. I already have other great things lined up for 2012: Cirque du Soleil, two weeks in Hawai’i, the Florence and the Machine concert, plus many more things that I have yet to plan. Oh, but to be able to spend time with good women like this again… One week was not enough for me!

Related Posts:

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• Hurricane Su Comes to Portland: What Happens When Alienman Hosts a Visitor Pt. 3
• Hurricane Su Comes to Portland: What Happens When Alienman Hosts a Visitor Pt. 2
• Hurricane Su Comes to Portland: What Happens When Alienman Hosts a Visitor
• No Better Way to Spend a Birthday: Dinner at EaT Oyster Bar and a night at the coast