Day 11- May 30, 2006 - Portland

Last night we wandered the streets looking for a place to get food. Unfotunately, everything was closed for Memorial Day and we came back to the hotel room, planning to order something in. I fell asleep before it happened, in all my clothes and despite Doug's urging did not call my parents to check in. They, of course, left a dozen messages looking for me, my mother panicked and ready to fill out a missing persons report and have the Portland police out searching.

I called and things were fine, my parents' craziness momentarily calmed. They are waiting for me to come home, an idea that terrifies me to no end because I am not the least bit ready to do such a thing.

We got breakfast/lunch and then coffee and went to sit in the public circle arena-type place- Pioneer Courthouse Square- where we spent the bulk of the day people watching while our arms sunburned.

We started out at one en where there's a spot where you can hear an echo. It was sort of funny to watch the people walk over specifically for the purpose of testing the myth. My cousin, Greg, who lives in Oregon, called while we were out there and apparently, when my parents couldn't get in touch with me, my father called him, wondering if he'd taken us out to the mountains.

Doug was putting ice cubes down the back of my pants and I was squirming, telling him to stop when a butch feminist a stair behind us said why do you let him do that to you, it's so disrespectful and I, furious that he a: wouldn't listen and b: attracted the attention of the people around us agreed with her. He got all huffy and I knew it was more out of her noisiness than any sort of embarrassment on his part and I could tell it was taking all his self control to not turn around and pop her right across the jaw. I was embarrassed though, and tensed up, sure that she was scrutinizing my every move. Of course she had no right to interject her opinion- aside from the fact that she was probably getting a full view down my pants everytime he pulled the back of my jeans away to slide a cube down- and I should have told her to mind her own business, but at the moment, I worried. I worried that I looked like a girl who was weak, dependent, victimized. I wondered if on this coast, all the times that Doug ordered for me were displayes of my passivity instead of romantic gestures. I worried that instead of it looking like he was taking care of me, it looked like he was taking care of me because I was incapable of taking care of myself. And I know it shouldn't matter much what we look like, what people think, but at that moment it did, because I worried about the truth in appearances. I worried that I would turn into that girl, and I realized that as much as we were watching everyone else around us, at least some of them were watching us too.

There are a lot of young parents around here, here and in Seattle too. While we were sitting, a couple showed up- early thirties tops, with two kids, one about 3 and the other maybe 5, a girl and a boy and the girl was one of the cutest kids I've seen. Some woman had lost her sister and son and come over to the couple for help, presumably because they seem helpful and approachable and the little girl, not knowing what was going on said "Don't worry, me and Christian will help you." They didn't really help though, just ran around chasing pigeons while their father searched the area for people that matched the woman's description- which was awfully nice of him. Ava- the girl- little Ava Marie, and where have I heard that name before, jumped all over the steps and turned to me and smiled proud and said "Did you see that!" and I smiled back knowing better than to engage in conversation with stranger kids even if they are the type that make my maturnal instinct kick in. (But don't tell anyone)

They left and not long after, we left and got smoothies and milkshakes and relocated to the other side of the circle where there were two guys writing poetry and another older guy preaching about Jesus and a ton of wannabe punk rockers and hippie kids scattered behind us. There were lots of people with petitions and political agendas and I am guessing it is that sort of town.

When we were hot and sweaty and sunburnt, we came back to the room to watch Tv and do crossword puzzles. Doug went out to get a pack of cigarettes, as our discussion in the circle gave permission to do so, but he felt guilty and emptied half of the new pack into the trash can as though this would make me think higher of him. It made sense in his head, I'm sure. He was a thousand times more pleasant when he got back and though I'm not at all thrilled with him smoking, I'm sorta okay with it if it means he will be generally nicer to me.

We went out to dinnner at a little Italian place that kept popping up in multiple guidebooks. The atmosphere was alright, casual, but I was expecting the food to be better. It was average at best, and I don't know why I was expecting to get great Italian food in Portland of all places, but it is what it is. Doug had a glass of wine with dinner and was instantly in a great mood when we left the place- though I'm sure this has more to do with me letting him drink than the drink itself.

We got coffee on the way back to the hotel and ordered a movie through the TV, a stupid teen comedy but neither of us felt much like thinking and again it was what it was. We went to sleep around midnight, each in our separate beds- it was cheaper to get 2 twins here than one queen- and I spend the night dreaming of the show the next day.