Welcome to Important Shit You
Missed, 2013 Edition (Part 2), AKA highlight reel of my soul!
[Note:
contrary to what this Year in Review appears to indicate, I am not under the
influence of drugs and/or alcohol 100% of my life. I’ve practiced moderation at
least once. I frequently eat a well-balanced diet and get the recommended hours
of sleep. My biggest mishap last month was purchasing laundry detergent that
makes me smell like Skittles. While this tragedy haunts my every waking moment,
it doesn’t make for compelling reading material. Sorry mom.]
July
This
summer was preternaturally sunny for Portland. There were consecutive cloudless
days. The temperature hovered somewhere near perfect for an unnatural
period of time. At one point I begged the sky to please, for the love of god,
just be overcast because I couldn’t spend another day recreating outdoors.
Enter
Saturday: we’re sitting in an Irish pub after browsing ironic key chains, pug
bjorns, and overpriced machetes at the morning market. Somebody muses, You
know what would be great? If there was a Land Before Time drinking game. Cue
the moment I realized my deep and profound adoration for these people.
We
purchased 2-6 magnums of Plaid Pantry wine, caravanned to my house, closed the
curtains, and whiled the day away. Rules included drinking 1) anytime
“Sharptooth” is shouted in a fit of terror 2) Spike eating or Ducky speaking in
threes 3) thinly-veiled references to racism. After Land Before Time, rules for
Hercules quickly materialized. By The Hunchback of Notre Dame, we had given up
all pretense of “game” and settled solidly into the “drinking”, qualifying this
as one of the best days I'll never remember.
(see
also: Whatever
Katy Perry, Procreation)
August
Sometimes
a human needs a break. This was when everything was Please make it home and we’ll talk.
But talk wasn’t getting anybody anywhere because continents, and time, and
breaking. So I packed the whipped cream vodka, turned off my phone, and crawled
into Jareb’s backseat for the 10 mile drive to Somewhere Else.
According
to the Wikipedia:
Sauvie Island… is the largest island along the Columbia River...
The north end of Collins Beach is popular among gays and lesbians. This section of the beach is often
a party like environment on warm and sunny days**.
Yelp
reviews:
If the city of Portland and the planet of Alderaan had a love
child (before the Death Star got all Death Star-y), it would be Sauvie
Island. It's so close to the city, but it's like you're in a galaxy far,
far away once you cross the bridge…. I never want to see male genitalia again.
A brief
and incomplete list of things I learned that day:
1) Air
mattresses can be used as rather efficient flotation devices
2) Do
you know what contributes to the aforementioned "party like environment on
warm and sunny days"? Well nudity, obvs. But also the party boat, which is
a floating emporium delivering frozen treats to beach partiers. It is a
slow-moving unicorn to be endlessly sought and rarely glimpsed
3)
Naked men + tiny dogs = oddly entertaining
4)
Sunshine and water inherently possess mythical healing qualities
Parts
of August ache all over. Like Welcome
to the horror show. Or We
wanted to believe in you but you fucked up, kid. Other parts felt effortless:
sunsets on the porch couch, imperfect French translations that didn’t speak as
clearly as skin and skin.
And
there in the middle of all that chaos I have whipped cream vodka and If you were an instrument, what would
you be? I’m still not
convinced “the human voice” counts as an instrument. But I love you for it
anyways.
**Italics
added by author for emphasis, because yes.
(see
also: I
Know Sorry Isn't Enough)
September
Let’s
talk about the night I went shot for shot with Allison’s ex.
Things
to keep in mind:
1) There is a brand of tequila
called Pepe Lopez. It tastes like a knockoff Juarez, which tastes like a
knockoff Jose.
2) Raven and I had interacted
on several prior occasions, usually while avoiding eye contact in the kitchen.
3) Allison, Raven, and Amy
enjoy a game called Spades which involves a lot of silent communication and
complicated rules.
September
was “b. Are you fall in love?” and “I am have strong feelings towards a human,
yes.”
Sometimes
when you love someone, you sit down to play a painfully awkward card game with
their ex-girlfriend. Halfway through our game of Spades (which I was helplessly
floundering through) we ran out of wine. To keep the social situation properly
lubricated, Allison offered us tequila. Generally, I prefer to sip tequila. I
enjoy the taste and pace myself better when I’m not taking shots. Unfortunately,
99% of the human population doesn’t sip tequila. So when Raven challenged me to
go shot for shot, my pride couldn’t say no.
Which is how I ended up sitting
on Raven’s lap at 2am smoking cigarettes and discussing soul mates. Despite my
proximity to death when I woke up the next morning, I’m counting this
experience as a win. Because some people spent their night projectile vomiting tequila
shots, and I was not one of them.
October
Dating
a graduate student is like having a second mother. Sometime in October, Allison
arranged My Little Playdate wherein she dropped me off with our friends in the
morning and retrieved me that evening after the approximate duration of a work
day. I’m an adult, I promise.
Play
Day was a gorgeous fall day and I bought a blazer for $1 at a yard sale
so I felt like a class act. We loaded up the gay caravan, and headed to
Sauvie’s for wine tasting, pumpkin hunting, and general run amok-ery.
Me:
Well. Shall we have another glass of wine?
Mo: Oh
thank god you’re here and understand.
After unsuccessfully
attempting to befriend the miniature ponies, we climbed into the nearest tree
and practiced looking indy-rock chic. For the cover art of the album I’m sure
we’ll never make.
By the time Allison scooped me
up we were sprawled on Mo’s porch creating our unique and extraordinary masterpieces.
(see
also: Writing
is Hard)
November
For my
16th birthday my
parents planned an elaborate surprise party involving a pizza parlor and my
soccer team. To keep the surprise surprising, the friends I’d already made
birthday plans with had to blow me off last minute. While the party was a
smashing success (they gave me a Volvo that was also turning 16 and my entire
soccer team fit on the hood), the experience left me with lingering social
anxiety in the “making plans” department.
As a
result, when I plan group outings I choose activities that I can do alone just
in case nobody shows.
When
Autostraddle announced another International Meetup Week, after much foot dragging, I
signed up to host an event. At 8 o’clock we gathered at Sweet Hereafter for
vegan snacks, and migrated to Wonderland Nickel Arcade once we were decently
soused. Totally an activity I could have done alone, but I didn’t have to
because a slew of beautiful humans showed up.
This
event stands out because of the friends before they were friends. Let me
rephrase that. There were people there who are indispensable in my daily life
now, but I didn’t quite know them yet. They exist there in a weird pre-memory and it
blows my mind that every person has the potential to become the next Erin, or
the next Ashleigh, or the next Merrick/part of the tribe I call family.
Also I
pulled a tricep playing air hockey.
(see
also: Prison
Ink, You
Can't Go Home Again)
December
Because I am a perpetual Christmas bastard, I've created a
tradition that involves word play, comfort food, and heavy tequila consumption.
This Christmas marked the third annual celebration of Feliz Navidachos. Started
from the bottom, now we here.
Last year Lew, Mo, and I ate nachos in painfully
awkward/hangover silence while ULOL and her brother watched Family Guy and
drank whiskey on the couch. This year attendance tripled, Lady Gaga sang a
rollicking piano duet with Sir Elton John, and I learned how to tell whether or
not someone is high on cocaine. We consumed every scrap of food in my house,
plus a case of PBR and a fifth of good tequila.
Merry Christmas. God bless us, everyone!
(see also: Survival
Skills, Almost Better
than Pug Puppies)
And there you have it! An entire year in my glamorous life. Stay posted for veganism and vending machine spirit animals. Keep it real, you weirdos.
-b
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