Oregon Trailing -- A Letter

Dear Oregon,


I’m impressed with you. Really.

I’m going to be honest with you….I wasn’t sure how I was going to feel about you. It wasn’t that I was having ugly thoughts or anything, but really before I took this trip I knew nothing about you….except that my Aunt Jo used to live there, that it took me until highschool to figure out that the Salem Witch Trials didn’t happen in your Salem, and that Portland is where Callie Torres from Grey’s Anatomy was moving if she got fired from Seattle Grace. Just sayin’.

But I like you, Oregon.

I like your trees. Because they don’t look like our trees. Yours are taller. And make me feel like I’m in a movie. Don’t ask….it’s just how it is.

I also like your sky. It’s bigger than my sky. Again, don’t ask. Just so.

I also appreciate your appreciation for proper disposal of sharp objects in airports. Even though at first I thought you were supporting the junkies of your state….but I now realize that was my mistake. Not yours.

I like that you aren’t afraid of a good deer antler chandelier.

I love the way your people talk. Again….feel like I’m in a movie. And I now feel the urge to come back to Arkansas talking all Oregonian like.

I really love that your people are friendly. Because most Northeners get a bad rap for not being nice…especially to us Southern folk….but y’all are very pleasant. Thanks for that.

I also love that no one has to pay sales tax. I cannot tell you how nice it is to walk into a store, pick up an item, and pay the exact sticker price. Not a penny over. Talk about being able to budget properly. I likey. Mucho.

I love that most of your people look like they are ready for a week’s trip in the mountains schlepping tents and ringing bells to sceer off bears. I saw so many zip-off pants, NorthFace jackets, hiking shoes, wool socks sticking out of Birkenstocks, and scruffy hair-dos that I was almost ready to toss aside my metallic silver Nikes and my GAP teeshirt, buy a sleeping bag, and find me a moose to curl up next to in the mountains. I said almost.

But, Oregon, there are a couple of things that I find odd about you. But not odd in the we-can’t-continue-our-relationship way, but in a we’re-different-and-I-appreciate-you way.

For one, who knew that you can’t pump your own gas there. I’m sure you have good reasons and all, but it is just weird for all of us self-serve folks.

For another thing, the internet says you’re famous for apples. But I have to be honest. I have never bought an apple that says “grown in the heart of Oregon.” Not to mention that I tried to find one of your people who could tell me about these apples that you are so famous for….um…couldn’t find one. In fact, the only apples I saw all week were the apples in the produce section of a little store.

But, Oregon, these details are minor and unimportant, because I likey you. I likey you very much.

And I hope to come back very very soon.

Thanks for all the fun memories.

Love,
Amber-Next Time I Will Bring My Teva Sandals-RascalRaiser

Oregon Trailing -- Day 2

Apparently this blog world thing is weird to some people.

Like my husband.  And other people's husbands.

But, thankfully, said husbands sometime just decide to step out on faith and trust their bloggy wives and let them head out and meet total and complete skin strangers.  I say skin strangers, because the part that the husbands (and all those other skeptical skeptics) don't understand about close blogger buddies is that, really, our hearts have already met...and it is like we've been friends for years.

Like so with Cathy.

She was a skin stranger.  Until today.  And, oh, how I'm glad we met.  Because she is great.

So amazingly gracious.  And kind.  And loving.  And she suffers from adult-onset A.D.D. like me...so we're kindred, me and her.

Before I launch into details of my day with the Cat-a-Lac, let me just tell you that I have no idea how you Pacific timezone people do it.  Y'all have me so messed up, that I went to sleep at 8:00 last night.  And slept like a baby.  All.Night.Long.  It also could have been caused much in part to the whole getting up at 3:30 yesterday morning, but I'm choosing to blame it on jetlag...because that 2 hour time difference is a kick in the pants.

Because the husband was in an I'm-Delirious-From-Spending-the-Day-Flying-the-Friendly-Skies-In-a-Tin-Can stupor, he let me choose the restaurant last night.  I googled, of course, and after not so much arm twisting, decided on Thai food.  Can I tell you how much I adore Thai food?  Could be because it is just nostalgic for me, having eaten many a plate of street vendor fried rice in my day, or it could be just that it is freakin' amazing.  Either way....love it.  More like adore. 

So we headed out to Singha Thai, and I ate this.

Pineapple Chicken Fried Rice.  And it was delicious.  Just like I knew it would be.

This morning, the husband headed out for meetings, and I hopped in the rental car (which has AMAZING brakes) and made my way southward...towards the home of my MIRL.

While I drove the Oregon freeways (which we call interstates, interestingly enough), I admired the trees.  That sounds so bizarre, what with Arkansas being The Natural State and all, but their trees are different here.  They're all evergreens....and they're just...well...different.  I like 'em.  (For the record...their sky is bigger here, too.)

I pulled up in the driveway of a super cute little house, and I giggled to myself about ringing the doorbell and it being answered by a 400 lb. man who lives with his mama and has thoughts of kidnapping me and chaining me up in his basement.  (Just for the record....if your friend is getting ready to go for a MIRL, don't joke about stuff like that....it tends to make one need to pop a xanax.  Just sayin'.)

Thankfully the door was opened by Cathy.  And she was far from being a 400 lb. man.  Phew.

We hugged.
And chatted.
And hugged some more.
And chatted.
And drank creamer with a smidge of coffee.
And giggled.
And forgot that this was the first day we met.

Because it was natural. And easy. And fun.

And she gave me this.  Isn't it beautiful?  She made it.....and I can't wait until she goes into business, and I can tell her, "I told you so."

After chillin' at her house for a little bit, we headed out for lunch.  We are one-in-the-same, so it took us 3823498347293 hours to make up our minds where to eat.  But, we finally decided on Chipotle...because I'd heard a gazillion people talk about it, and I love being a follower!  Hello.....you people weren't kidding.  YUM.

After another long and drawn out speedy exhibition of decision making skills, we decided just to head out and drive.  We can talk while we drive we decided...so it made sense.

She showed me her town.  And she showed me where she went to college.  And she showed me prisoners.

You think I'm kidding.

I'm not.

Those folks in orange?  Uh...yah.

And then she took me to an Orchard Market which has a real name, but I forgot it due to the scrumptiousness of the apple cider doughnuts that I was shoving into my mouth.  We browsed and shared a chuckle over the marketing genius of folks here in Oregon, and then I found honey sticks.  And decided I HAD to have one.  So I forked over a whopping 20 cents for a plastic pixie-stix full of lemon honey.

Verdict?  Don't waste your 20 cents.

And then we went to Sonic, because we had long determined that if we ever met...we MUST share a date for Pineapple Diet Dr. Peppers.  Because Cat GETS it.  She appreciates and loves the amazingness that is the PDDP.  Smart girl.

And then I discovered that the carhops in Oregon actually wear roller skates.  And now I want to know why the ones in Arkansas don't.  Irks me just a tad.

We had an hour or two before dinner, so we headed out and did a bit of shopping.  We touched the same sweaters and decided that we have the same taste...in clothes and in prices.

We picked up the husbands and headed out for a bit to eat.  Excuse me, a load to eat.  Billy and Cathy took us to The Cheesecake Factory, and I might have thought that I had died and gone to heaven.  It was scrumptious. And the food wasn't too shabby either!  The only thing odd about the evening was our freakishly quiet waiter, and his interesting use of hand gestures.  But we got free cheesecake out of the guy, so he's forgiven.

What'd I eat, you ask?  Well...I was too busy scarfing down the first bites to remember to take a picture, so you are getting the half-eaten version.  The pasta was delish.

And I topped that off with piece of Key Lime Cheesecake.  Whoa Nelly.

And then we posed for pictures.

Don't hurt your eyes.....that's us.  Really.  It just looks like we are in a  cheesecake cave....or a basement! ;)

We had a great time.  We laughed a lot.  We shared stories.  And it was like we were old friends and picked up right where we left off.

Feeling really blessed.  And really full.  And really sad for all the people that don't know what they are missing.

Oregon Trailing Day 2......over.and.out.

Oregon Trailing -- Day 1

Biscoff Cookies make me happy.

Pure joy in a little red foil. The husband loves me so much that he even let me have one of his on this last flight. I tried to tell him it wasn’t necessary, but that was only after I shoveled the last crumb into my mouth.

In fact, I’m pretty sure my most favorite thing about flying is the almighty Biscoff.

Well, that and my small fascination with horribly gone wrong wardrobe mishaps and malfunctions demonstrated by the folks parading through the airports.

But, dad gum it… I was super slow on my trigger finger yesterday. But I did know I was in the North as soon as I saw this….the sock/sandal combo. Still bumfuzzles me.

So, I’m back in the land of all things flighty. The husband had another business trip, and obligingly let me tag along. I always get giddy on trips like this, because it means sleeping late, eating (and taking pictures of) interesting food, and having an excuse to actually purchase souvenirs. The husband never let s me buy miniature Arkansas spoons or refrigerator magnets, so he humors me when we’re on vaca.

I deposited the rascals at the place of all things fun and Yahtzee (a.k.a. Grammy’s house) on Monday, and Kirk and I left Tuesday morning to head to the airport while all of you people were still snoozing and snoring.

We’re headed to Oregon this time. Yes. Oregon. And apparently Oregon is SO special, they feel as though you need to use the entire day to ponder its magnificence, so they make you zig and zag around the country to get there. So very generous.

I think I have been to Oregon before, but I’m pretty sure that the last time was in the back of an old avocado green or bronze colored station wagon. And my dad used a CB to talk to the other car in our caravan. And I had dog ears (pigtails to you civilized folk). So…..it’s been awhile.

Oregon seems a fun enough of a visitin’ stop on its own, but I’m especially excited because this trip isn’t all about the rascal-escapin’ and makin’ everything about me.

I get to meet this girl.

That’s Cat. And she has been on e of my bloggie besties for awhile now. She and I share a love of PineappleDiet Dr. Pepper, tweeny-bop musicals, and cooking the least amount possible. Kindred.

And not only do I get to meet her, I get to hang out with her. And chat. And slurp PDDPs.

Snort giggling guaranteed.