This morning my partner and I got up nice and early to "splurge" on the $1.99 breakfast and $.99 coffee at Ikea before heading into the belly of the Skandi whale. And of course, a fun family of 6 screaming people were in front of us. They were dragging their feet arguing over who get's fruit, who want's bacon and who get's a sticky bun.....*deep sigh*. I don't think they even cared that everyone behind them was being really cool about how long it took them to get through the simple cafeteria style line. It's $1.99, there are 20 people qued up behind you, not to mention the fact that EVERYTHING in Ikea is set up for streamline ease and flow. These people did not get the memo. Grandma is hurrying up the youngest boy who decided to spill his water onto the floor to see if anyone would notice. Mom and Dad say nothing....it felt like the son is starving for attention from his parents, how sad. Interesting factoid, dad had a creepy Elmer Fudd holding an AK-47 tattoo on his calf.
With full bellies, we bolted down to the main floor searching for dishes, one picture frame, and the tool that takes my bed apart. See we decided to redo our entire 2 story, 2 bedroom apartment. We got the downstairs done in one day last weekend, so we planned today to be the "swap the bedroom for the office" day. We thought it would take 3 hours, max. Ha, it took about 5.5 hours......
I have to say though, it feels good to have new spaces set up in a house that you are trying your damnedest to love. I have a love-hate relationship with Portland right now, so making my living space comfortable, makes those days when I am not so in love with my city, palatable.
I realized during this process that home is what you make it, and I haven't been able to do that in the 6 years I have lived here. I lived with my ex in many different homes, and none of them had a good flow, for whatever reason. We always lived in cool neighborhoods, but the spaces themselves just never felt "right". Maybe it was just our mis-matched chemistry.
Now, I love my apartment, but hate the location. Gun shots, bar fights, meth dealing neighbor, possible sex trafficking across the street, and tons of loud cars. It's what I can afford, but honestly, dealing with all that in Portland, feels lame. It would feel more normal back in LA or in NY. In fact I expect it there, not here where I have 80 year old spruce trees in my yard and a view of Mt. Hood.
I moved here to have the funky small town life, but because of gentrification and yuppie condo's, I (and every other broke ass Portlander), have been pushed out closer to the woods but with this strange David Lynch undertone. And not in a good way. It's hard to explain, maybe I am just growing tired of this kind of life. Maybe I feel really pissed that I can't afford to live in neighborhoods where things I am interested in are within walking distance.
I like the taco stand across the road and the little thrift store, but that is where it ends. I love my tiny back yard, but can't stand my drama-fied neighbor that has a serious meth-drinking-sex worker issue. There are at LEAST 5 different dudes in and out of her house daily, and I am a HUGE sex-work advocate and supporter....just not when meth dealing is also involved and possible sex trafficking. Then on the other side I have the machismo dude and his interesting lady friend who I SWEAR was giving him a hand job on the hood of his car when I got home from work yesterday.....I think I do live in David Lynch land.
It makes for interesting stories for sure, but I'm ready for a space that is quiet-ish, green, and where my neighbors genuinely say hi to me, like I do to them. So for now, inside my house is my sanctuary.
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