I recently moved to a new apartment and have found such joy and contentment in the new space. Before I left I made sure to have one more final photoshoot in the apartment that was my home for 5 years. That space saw joy, pain, grief, first love and relationship, heartbreak, and everything in between.
Or in other words, when it snows in Portland, OR your weekend travel plans are fucked. This past weekend I had the most overwhelming and frustrating travel experience of my life, which is saying something because I got stranded in Ireland with COVID in 2022 and couldn’t reenter the US until I had a negative test.
Many months ago I saw that Tina Fey and Amy Poehler were going on tour together. After seeing they were stopping in Portland, my partner at the time bought us tickets to see them as an early birthday gift. I was thrilled! When we broke up they transferred me the tickets. I went back and forth as to whether or not I should go, try to sell the tickets, or send them back. It was originally meant to be a fun road trip with my partner. I wondered if going it alone would bring me back into the deeper heaviness of grief I’ve experienced with this breakup. In the end, I decided to go. I’ve been making a great effort to reclaim spaces I had shared with them, to make new memories, and to allow myself to enjoy things once shared between us on my own again. I had high hopes that this trip to Portland would bring a similar sense of adventure and curiosity my trip to New York in November brought.
As the weekend was approaching I noticed low temperatures and even snow in the forecast for the day I was to arrive. While nervous about my wardrobe being warm enough, I also felt confident enough that Portland gets snow enough to at least know how to deal with it when it happens. This was a poor assumption.
Anything that could have gone wrong on this trip did indeed go wrong on this trip. Here’s the timeline of events:
Day 1:
My original flight was on Alaska Airlines to depart at 12:30pm. I woke up around 7:45am and saw an email that my flight was canceled and I was rebooked to a flight that was to leave Sacramento at 6:30pm, head up to Seattle for an hour, and then get into Portland at 11pm. This wouldn’t work for so many reasons. The Tina Fey and Amy Poehler show was that evening at 7:30pm, so I would miss the show entirely. Secondly, I’m not ready to go back to Seattle, even just to the airport, at this point, seeing as how I traveled to that airport so many times over the last year and a half to be with my long distance partner.
Still in bed after reading this email I looked up flights on Delta - nothing would get me there on time and all of their flights would also take me up to Seattle first. Southwest had space available on a 9:20am flight for $340 one way. At this point it’s 8am, I’m not packed, and wondering if I just let it go and try to cancel my hotel reservation and the returning flight as well. But no, this weekend was important and needed for my heart. So, fuck it. I booked the Southwest flight, through my stuff together in my backpack and suitcase, and called an Uber. I arrived to the airport just in time to use the bathroom and then queue up to board.
Landing in Portland was bumpy with the snow and wind. At this point I was thankful all I’d had that morning was a coffee on my way to the airport. Portland has a great public transportation system (when it works, that is) and I should have been able to take the light rail from the airport to my hotel. But half way through the route the conductor came on the speaker to let passengers know the train would be stopping and heading back to the airport, as lines and switches were freezing up. We were instructed to get out at the next stop, cross the outdoor/open-air platform to catch another train that would take us into the downtown area. I stood on that platform in snow and high, freezing winds for about thirty minutes waiting for another train before getting an Uber.
When I finally get to the hotel and check in to my room, I realize I haven’t eaten anything all day, and it’s about 1:30pm now. Another unexpected expense to order food delivery to the hotel since I can’t venture out in the snow and wind to find something. I eat my food, take a shower, do my best to regulate and reset. A few hours later, after I finish my makeup for the show and am getting ready to call another Uber to take me the short distance to the venue, I get an email that the Tina Fey and Amy Poehler show was being postponed…Not even two hours before it was supposed to start. The whole reason for coming up to Portland in the first place was canceled just hours before the event. I was gutted. All of the stress of the morning, the money I paid to book a new flight and unanticipated Uber rides…pointless.
The rest of the evening was spent trying to distract myself, to remind myself it’s one shitty weekend of my life that will soon fade into a bad memory and then never to be thought of again. But this was not easy to do.
I also had delusional hopes that I might meet someone through Hinge or Tinder in Portland to take with me to the show and have a fun date with. In the week leading up to the event I downloaded the apps and created accounts and set my location to Portland. There were a few people on Hinge I matched with, but conversation didn’t even last long enough for me to share I would be there just for the weekend and had an extra ticket to the show. That first evening there I matched with someone on Tinder and they were able to give me some recommendations for places to eat if I could get to them. We even met up for a drink on day 2. But overall, I just felt foolish in my hopes to meet someone for a cute weekend date. True, the amount of people in Portland on the apps is more robust than in Sacramento. But many of the same roadblocks are still there. There’s a lot of waiting for someone to match with you, waiting for them to message back, waiting to see if there’s any kind of playfulness or spark. And often times, I’m guilty of this as well, the person will say they’ve realized they aren’t actually ready to date, or they unmatch because they’ve deleted the app, etc.
That night I had a hard time falling asleep and didn’t sleep soundly once I did.
Day 2:
I woke up trying to have a positive outlook on the day. I could find at least somewhere to go out to, one or two Ubers to try to have some sense of adventure or experience. I went to the hotel fitness center to walk on the treadmill to get some energy out of my body in an attempt to further regulate. Between day 1 and day 2 I binged a fun show on Amazon Prime called Class of 07. After my walk I got dressed and took an Uber to a sandwich shop Tinder match suggested. It was a cool spot, and had I been in better spirits I would have enjoyed it even more. The sando was decent and I spent about an hour and a half there, knowing that would be one of the only times I would get out of the hotel.
I was able to find a bus route to take back to the hotel. I only had to walk a few blocks from the sandwich place to the bus stop. Where it dropped me off by the hotel should have taken less than 10 minutes to walk to the hotel, but with the snow on the ground it took me more like 15-20 minutes. I had made plans with Tinder match to meet up at a bar at 5pm and felt like my stomach was going to fall out of my butt all day. I had forgotten the nerves that show up when meeting up with someone for the first time.
I took another bus to the bar with another ten minute walk in the snowy streets. The spot was cool and had good vibes. And the date was fine. I was appreciative of them even meeting up with me given the weather and short notice. But I didn’t feel any sort of physical or romantic attraction to them. I’m proud of myself for going on a date, especially given the circumstances of the trip. But it also makes me sad and worried that it will take a long time to find something that makes me feel as deeply as I felt with my last partner again.
My mood started to lift when I checked in for my flight for Monday, as I was able to switch to an earlier flight for $50. Best $50 spent of the trip, or so I thought at the time. Instead of leaving Portland at 4:30pm, my new flight would depart at 10:15am. When I got back to the hotel that night I packed my things and started re-watching A League of Their Own. I slept a bit better that night, knowing I would be home in Sacramento soon.
Day 3:
I woke up around 7am to finish collecting my things and get ready to leave Portland behind. I checked my boarding pass to make sure the flight was still on time. I felt hopeful, as it hadn’t snowed since that first day I arrived. I ordered an Uber to pick me up at 8am and was at the airport by 8:30am. As I went through security my flight was still on time. I could feel the end near!
While waiting in line for coffee I got an email from Alaska apologizing for the delay in flight and an offer of a meal voucher. Initially I thought this was for my flight Saturday, but when I brought up my boarding pass, the departure time had been delayed until 3pm. THREE PM! And it wasn’t even 9am yet. I started crying in line for coffee. This couldn’t be happening. The coffee itself wasn’t even good! The milk was steamed too hot and it burned my tongue. I threw it away.
Wandering over the to gates where my flight would be departing from hours later, I noticed a flight in the process of boarding, bound for San Francisco. Somehow I was able to make it on to that flight. One step closer to home, yet hours away via train to get there. Once I landed at SFO around 11am I had to take BART for an hour and fifteen minutes to Richmond, then catch the Amtrak train for another hour or so into Sacramento. I finally walked through my apartment door at 2:30pm. When I checked the flight status it had been postponed again until 3:30pm! I messaged with Alaska to get my $50 refunded, ordered a salad from Mendocino Farms, walked to the corner store for beer, and then stayed in bed the rest of the day.
As someone who generally tries to look for the meaning in things, it was very difficult for me to find meaning in this trip. At one point I thought, maybe if I had stayed home I would have gotten into a terrible car accident, or some other trauma would have occurred. But I don’t know if that’s true. I tried very hard to remind myself this is one weekend of my life, one terrible, horrible, no good, very bad weekend of my life. Money comes and money goes. I felt so frustrated on the financial end of things because I have been very diligent over the last two months about my spending and saving goals. In reaching out to my support system for emotional support, I was touched when I then received a few Venmo transfers to treat myself to a drink or dinner.
This post doesn’t contain any pictures. I didn’t want to take photos to remember the trip, not on my phone or on film. I brought a new journal to start on this trip, but I didn’t even take it out of the plastic wrap. I’m anticipating printing out this post to put in my current journal, as I don’t want to give more time to reflecting on the weekend. I’m so glad this happened before my birthday this week. That will be my fresh start.
Around dusk in midtown you’ll hear them as they migrate to their resting place for the day. I love hearing and seeing the crows as they pass through.
I bought my first super8 camera this summer (and second, as I “accidentally” won two different eBay auctions…whoops). This is my second film I’ve made on super8 and I’m absolutely in love. Such a shame that all of my hobbies just so happen to be expensive ones. I sent the roll off to Pro8mm and have been very pleased with their service and turn around time.
One of the perks of working in the school setting is having time off that is similar to the breaks you once had as a student. This recent Thanksgiving break I took myself to New York for a few days.
In another sense of the word “break,” at the end of this past summer I experienced by first heartbreak. It feels bittersweet that the last post on my website before this one is from our summer trip to Amsterdam, just five months ago or so. And now here I am - traveling again, but back to going solo.
There’s a beauty and familiarity in traveling alone. I love exploring, setting the pace for the day, deciding in the moment what to do and where to go. While I’ve experienced many lows over the last three months and a level of grief and pain I’ve never experienced before, this brief trip to New York brought me a few days of release, of curiosity, of wonder, and of self-care.
I took a figure drawing class at the coolest studio, Happy Medium. I saw a live show at a famous jazz club called The Blue Note Jazz Club. I saw glimpses of the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, then joined the most important parade - a march for Palestine. I had my Thanksgiving meal on the rooftop of my hotel in the sunshine with stellar views of Manhattan. And I got two new tattoos from a queer artist in Brooklyn I’d followed on Instagram for years.
