Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Pretty Portland

Portland may not be the number one spot for a vacation but it was the perfect place for a weekend getaway for four overworked, over-schooled young ladies. The scenic routes, the fresh air, the abundant bicycles, ahhhhh...

We frequented many a shops but my favorite was poking through the ones of the antique variety. My family doesn't really like old things so I hardly ever get to play with 1950's cameras or don 1930's hats in their presence. Luckily, my kindred spirit doth favor the aged goods so we made many a trips to antique shops.

Favorite spot: The infamous Powell's Books. Picture this:
A gigantic treasure trove filled with books of all ages, sizes and races. Some at discounted prices, some just off the presses, new, old, fancy, simple, I WAS IN HEAVEN!


Portland: definitely good for one or two days. Any more and...you just may want to fall asleep in the grass with a book.

*the gorgeous snapshots are courtesy of the one and only Helen!

Dear Helen

Helen and I were meant to be friends. Everyone who knows the two of us knows and says so. From our outlandish laughs to our love of all things colorful, musical and quaint, our two quirky souls were meant to align.

She's also a passionate traveler, so it was inevitable that we would embark on a journey together.
Before we traveled, Helen did the MOST AMAZING thing. She itinerar-ized our entire trip and made us handy dandy schedules containing all the useful information that one might need while traveling. I still have that guide and friends are still calling me asking to borrow it to use as a model for when they're planning their trips.

Oh and what a journey we had! Read on for deets (and pretty pictures!)

Meant to Be

"Janice, I'm Annie and I'm here to take you to the airport."

I blearily peek out under fatigue soaked lashes and stare up to see this blurred figure of a girl sitting at the end of my bed, staring down at me. Beside her is a young chap, worriedly pacing my tiny bedroom. I have no idea who both these people are.

"That's my boyfriend, James." Annie gestures at the boy.

"James?" I grumble, "but isn't your boyfriend's name Jerry?"

"What? No!" Annie exclaims. She then pulls out her phone and whispers, "Helen, I think she's...drunk!"

Helen, over the phone, adamantly states, "What? Just get her out of there. We have a plane to catch!"

I suppose I should back up and explain what happened. Run through the events that occurred hours before this bizarre exchange took place.

I am, by no means, an easy person to travel with.
You remember those terrible times in Thailand...or how about my little mishap in France...

But this time, I should be punished for my actions. I should be hit. I should be knocked out.

Oh wait. I was.

Knocked out, that is.

On Thursday, May 21, the night before I had to board a plane at 7:40 in the morning to fly to Portland for a fun rendezvous weekend with the girlfriends, I accidently celebrated my last LCC cast party a little too hard. I ended up back at my apartment at 5 in the morning and listened to some ill-advice about taking a one hour nap. I never woke up.

Well, I eventually did, to Annie's poking and shaking.

Annie and I have never met. We were going on this trip together through our mutual friend Helen. Because Helen doesn't live around LA, Annie and I decided to carpool to the airport together. She and her boyfriend (tried to) pick me up around 6 that morning but because I was KO'd, they ran through flames and knocked down walls to get to my bedroom and tried to forcibly, in person, get me into their car.

I did eventually hop in to the car but only after two annoying times of, "wait, I think I forgot my contact lenses."

We ran into the airport but that morning, fate just did not want us to get on the plane. Through various technicalities, we ended up at our terminal four minutes late. But those four minutes were enough to cause us to miss our flight.

Saddened by her unfortunate luck to be stuck with me, Annie broke down in tears. I felt so bad. I started working to find a solution to our problem and was soon informed of two options. 1) We could buy tickets from another airline for about $500 for the both of us. 2) Be on standby for the next flight.

I calmly approached this poor girl that I had unsettled so seriously and explained to her our choices. I told her I was willing to front the tickets for the other airline. It is a lot of money but I felt so bad for my drunken behavior to cause us to miss the flight that I was willing to pay for both our tickets.

Annie (KINDLY) said that she was willing to be on standby for the next flight. She knew $500 was a lot of money as well and didn't want to see me have to pay for that.

So we had a couple of hours to kill, which we efficiently did, telling each other all about our lives.

To our good fortune, we clicked! She overlooked my faulty ways and the beginning of a beautiful friendship stemmed.
I truly believe everything happens for a reason and this story is proof. So I missed a couple hours of Portland. Big deal, getting to know Annie on a one-on-one basis was a lot more worth it.