Portland

Heather and I are planning a trip to Portland, Oregon. And I am excited.

Actually, excited is a bit of an understatement. We were originally going to visit her friend, Alpha-Heather, but she moved back to San Francisco. So, we still wanted to go there, for reasons unknown to both of us really. I think it's just the idea of going, and it seems like as good a destination as any. We both know people there, so we'll get to visit with friends we haven't seen in a while, but there's an excitement that goes deeper than that.

Our friend, Genevieve, text messaged me yesterday, asking if I'd been there before. I replied that I hadn't. She told me that I was going to feel like I just got home.

I think that's a feeling I haven't had in a long time.
I'm not sure I've ever really felt that. Living here certainly doesn't make me feel that way, and I don't know that the east bay will either. I mean, Alameda seems like a great town, but is that where we belong? Portland is a ways away, being about 9-10 hours away, which is no minor drive to grandma's house, but at the same time, I wonder if distance from my fucked-up-ass-family might not be just what the doctor ordered.

Might I add, on craigslist, rent seems to be about $1000 a month for a 2 bedroom apartment/house. There are almost 1000 listings for 2 bedroom places, with pictures, that accepts cats in Portland. How is it not a destination? So why the urge for such a drastic change? I still haven't figured that one out yet.