Heart Attack

About two weeks ago, I got a text from my dad. It said " I don't want to alarm you Sweety pie, but I just arrived at the E.R. via ambulance.  I had a cardiogram and they found fluid around my heart."  I had to call him immediately.  He assured me that it was no big deal, that they would just drain the fluid and he would be fine.  He joked about how when he was put in the ambulance, the AC DC song Highway to Hell was blaring.  I thought it highly inappropriate but so funny.  My dad agreed, It was nice to laugh with him. I told him how much I loved him and to update me.  My heart felt a little lighter.

But I was restless for the remainder of my work day. As soon as I got off work I tried both him and Sheri to see how he was, but neither were answering.  I felt a tinge of panic creep back into my heart. I had plans that night to meet my dear friends for drinks and dinner and just wanted to be distracted so I decided to not cancel.  I finally got an update that he was in an exploratory procedure and they would know more in an hour.
I attempted to stifle my concern and panic until I got the next call.  My dad had had a massive heart attack in the past 10 days, there was damage to really important parts of his heart.  They immediately started doing open heart surgery to drain the fluid and stabilize his heart.  My heart was under attack too.  You never know how much you love someone or need them until you are faced with never hearing their voice again.  I was a disaster.  I am so thankful for Colby, Nate, Adrien, and Juice for being supportive and helping to distract me so I didn't count every second of that night.   
The whole night I kept thinking, does he know how much I love him?  Did my dad know how important he is to me? Did I tell him enough? 

He made it through that night, then a procedure to get stints a couple days later, and this past week another surgery to fix an aneurysm in his leg that was causing blood to pool in his groin.   
I have no words for how thankful I am that he made it through and I got to hear his voice again.  I am so thankful for the opportunity to tell him how important he is to me every day.  I told him that I have over 20 voice mails saved on my phone from him because they all make me happy and I cant ever bring myself to delete them.  I told him what a wonderful dad he is.  I also got to tell him about my boyfriend and how happy I am. 
While he isn't completely out of the woods, he is doing much better.  It has been difficult being so far away when all I want to do is be there to support him.
So many crazy life changing events have happened this year, things that have reminded me about what really matters at the end of the day.  The entire time I was questioning myself about whether my dad knew how much he was loved, I kept feeling a resounding yes in my heart.  So while I have been blessed with more time with my dad, I know I must be doing something right.  And I am thankful for the reminder to cherish the people we don't know how to live without. 

Back to My Blond Roots

I'm a natural blond, but for the last 4 years I have been dying my hair black.  I loved it.  I needed the change then.  But for the entirety of those 4 years my dad would mention OFTEN, how I would look better as a blond.  It always made me laugh.  I had no desire to go blond again until this month.  I think it was the Marilyn Monroe Wig I wore to a plethora of Halloween parties.  So I went for it.  It was so scared I would hate it.  But I love it.  Next time I may even do more blond. I also love the short cut. It is so easy to style.  

Lindsey Campbell at Wild Style Salon rocks.   

Love Will Not Enslave You

I found this on Pinterest, one of my many happy addictions.  Over the last couple years, After being burned and broken hearted, I have been so afraid of love.   I have dated and had fun, but at the first signs of forming any real attachment, I would run in the other direction. I couldn't bare to be vulnerable.  But when I saw this It touched my heart as true.  It is not love that betrays, dismays, or enslaves. 
Love has protected, taken care of, and lifted me up through this most difficult time.  It has sheltered and comforted me when I needed it the most.  Which begs the question...."what am I so afraid of?" 

She Turned Her Cants into Cans and Her Dreams into Plans

I was told last night that I walk like a "cute penguin."  Its a good thing the comment was prefaced by the word cute. But its hard walking different since my surgery.  Its hard looking at a flight of stairs let alone go up or down htem. I get frustrated and stuck sometimes in my recovery.  I miss the easy days where I rolled out of bed full of energy, ready to take on the world. I miss pretty high heel shoes and well moisturized feet.  I cant wait to reach my feet.  I cant wait until I walk normal.  But this life is the journey not the destination and it is with each and every step that I'm turning my cants into cans and my dreams into plans.

Warning: Body Surfing May Be Dangerous..

I got this wrist band at the Foo Fighters concert 15 days ago and cant take it off because it makes me laugh at least once every day.  The top line says " WARNING: BODY SURFING AND SIMILAR ACTIVITIES ARE DANGEROUS."  ;-) I really needed this warning, because without it, I was bound to get crazy at the concert.  Anytime I am tempted to do something that isn't safe in my condition, I look at he pink Foo band and think....No Body surfing for me...at least not yet :-)

Foo Fighters Miracle

 

Foo Fighters....where to begin. Just saying their name makes me smile. I heart them crazy mad. Which is totally bizarre because I'm not fanatical about any other band or celebrity in the world. But I am "fan"atical about Foo Fighters.  I have been a fan since 1999.  The year I graduated from high school and at 17 years old, went off to college.

I remember loving the song Hero and watching Learn To Fly's music video in my dorm room.  In 1999 I let go of the introverted, shy girl.  I let go of who my family and religion expected me to be. I let go of so many of my insecurities and other peoples expectations of me and started the path to becoming me....  

Within the next couple years I had so many firsts.  Every time I hear the song Everlong it takes me back to one amazing moment, wrapped in the arms of a man, snuggled up on his couch.  The lyrics "Breath out, so I can breath you in,"are exactly that moment for me.  I will never forget the way his breath became mine.  He did look a lot like Dave Grohl so that just further connected the two things forever.   And after things went bad, the lyrics "the only thing I'll ever ask of you, you gotta promise not to stop when I say when, she sang"  I sang.

Times Like These, was MY anthem for taking another chance at love. 

I cant help but sing along to the intro of All My Life EVERY time I hear it:  

"All my life Ive been searching for something. Something never comes, never leads to nothing, nothing satisfies, but Im getting close.  Closer to the prize at the end of the rope."

I could go on and on about Pretender.  In fact, I have. Just this past spring I sat on my Dad's patio in Phoenix, enjoying the perfect temperature, just as the sun was setting.  I spent an hour telling my dad how awesome Foo Fighters are and how bad ass Pretender is. I made him listen to it.  

 The lyrics to Best of You hit me in a very deep place. 

"Were you born to resist or be abused?... Has someone taken your faith?
Its real, the pain you feel
You trust, you must
Confess
Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?"

 So back in June, when Foo Fighters updated their Facebook that new tour dates would be announced... and Utah fans would be happy, my heart actually did a cartwheel.  I swear. I missed them at the Olympics here in 2000 because I was a poor college student and couldnt get tickets.  So while I didnt exactly have the money in my budget, at exactly 10 AM, I logged into Ticketmaster for presale tickets.  I was one of the first in SLC to get my tickets.   All summer I talked about the upcoming concert.  I had every intention of getting so close, I could see the sweat drip off of Dave Grohl's face.  

But then something devasting happened.  I had a disk "the size of a house" violently smash against my nerves and spinal cord and ended up in emergency surgery.

When I finally got home from the hospital, I remember laying in my bed, staring across my room at the awesome calendar I made for September-October with a giant picture of the Foo Fighters. 

It hit me like a ton of bricks, all the things that were different.  I now had to walk with a walker, I had a less than sexy back brace, I couldnt shower myself, I could barely make it to the bathroom.  I couldnt bend or twist....I wasn't just missing the feeling in my feet, legs, and butt....I was missing Foo Fighters because the concert was in 11 days.  

I cried so hard for so many hours.  I cried about my feet, the prospect of never wearing high heels again, but missing the Foo Fighters was beyond painful.  So I pushed the thought away.  I tried to get stronger.  I went to work way too soon. I went to bed early every night. I went for walks, everyday a little farther.  

But as it got closer I just knew how fragile I was.  I knew how dangerous it could be for me to be in a crowd of smushed together people. It could be a disaster.  So I decided to give my tickets to a friend. I sent the text offering my tickets but it broke my heart a little.  By the next day I knew I couldnt miss this concert. 

So I called the venue instead.  I called for three days straight.  On the third day, I called three times before I got the box office manager.  I explained my situation and he offered me what felt like a miracle.  I could watch my favorite band from the "PENALTY BOX" of the arena.  It makes me giggle every time I say it.  The penalty box is right on the ground but nobody could knock me over, I had walls to lean against, a way to walk a little and sit a little. It was as close to perfect as I could get. 

Gab helped me decorate my walker with black glitter spraypaint and we made a sign that said Foo Fighters or Bust.  We met our friends Derek and Romina at the Puck for a little Prefunk/dinner. I was like a little kid waiting for santa.  The anticipation and excitement helped me physically to make it happen, no matter how tired I was. 

I wish I could articulate the emotions and excitement I felt throughout the night.  It was better than birthdays, Christmas, and Disneyland!  The energy and power of the music and the band were AWESOME!!!!

This is what exhausted lools like!

And I swear there was a moment, as Dave stood on the second stage right in front of me, where I held up my walker with my "Foo Fighters or Bust"sign and he looked at me and smiled. Gabalicious was so awesome she surprised me with my now favorite Foo Fighter shirt and Derek and Romina were a blast to hang out with in the "penalty box." Since Romina had never been to a rock concert, I was thrilled to be with her as her "rock concert cherry," was popped. 

For days before and the days since the concert, I have been rockn' out to Foo Fighters constantly.  The songs are in my head all day, everyday.  Im certain my roomate and friends will attest, I have the "Foo Fever."  I have it bad!! 

Truth be told, this has been a devastatingly tough week for me.  One of my darkest in fact.   I wasn't prepared to hear what the surgeon told me for my post op appointment. I wasn't prepared for "maybe never," in reference to ever feeling certain parts of my body that I hold dear. I wasn't prepared to hear the term "cuada equina syndrome."  I am so not together, I almost don't know myself.  But tonight I did what I do most nights, I crawled into bed,  turned on Foo Fighters music and just got lost.  I spent hours watching their music videos and interviews online and then I realized why....because when Im doing those things,  I am not thinking about all the things I cant feel or do. I am thinking about that magical moments on the couch and past heartbreaks I over came.  Im thinking about what their music highlights about life.  Its ups and downs.  The heart breaks,  the tragedies, but more importantly, life's triumps, the amazing unexpected moments, the miracles.

 

 

 

 

 

 

HELP

I have always loved my independent nature.  I take pride in it but every great once in a while it has dawned on me that I might be too independent and prideful.  It even has occurred to me once or twice that due to my Independence, aka my pride, that I am single more than not.  But how do I change such a huge part of who I am? I became independent out of necessity.  I hate asking for help.  I hate showing weakness.  I hate burdening people that are already burdened with their own things.  I hate for people to see me as anything but happy, healthy, successful, fun, and capable.  And while every single moment in my life isn't happy, healthy, successful, and fun, I sure as hell don't like to advertise that. 

Then my life flipped upside down. 

This morning, I didn't want to get out of bed.  Yesterday I told my boss I would be in at 8am, but this morning at 7 am I emailed her and had to say...."apparently 12 hours just wasn't enough time in bed, Ill be a little later."  I made it at 9:15am.  While getting ready; I dropped my brush, my sock, missed the garbage can, left lights on that I had to walk back through my place to turn off.  These things sound so simple, but they weren't.  Each thing I dropped I had to go to wherever I last left my grabber and then go pick up what I dropped.  Every step was exhausting.  

Last night I had to ask a friend for a massage. I almost couldn't send the text because I didn't want to make her feel obligated, even though she told me she would come back again.  Every day there are at least 5 things I need but cant bare to ask for.  Even though I have more people offering to help than I can count.  

And then there are all the things I can and do ask for help.  Every day, 50 times, I ask for help. 

I often wonder about why things happen.  Some things are so hard and painful, its hard to see the positive side. 
But almost every time I let go of my pride and ask for help, I think to myself, this is the lesson. This is what I couldn't do and now must do in order to wear clean cloths, keep the sink empty of dishes, access anything in the world that sits lower than my waist, move anything over 8 lbs, walk up or down stairs, get lotion on my legs, and the worst yet. Get my toe nails cut. 
When I look back at the hardest things in my life, I also see the most growth.  And since I clearly couldn't learn the lesson of humility with simple little obstacles.  I am learning, or rather, its being beaten into me every day. 
My heart feels softer and appreciative every day that I have so much help to get me through this.  I cant even imagine what a person would do in this situation if they didn't have HELP. 

Here is a song "Walk" I can relate to both figuratively and literally from my favorite band, the 2nd song "Pretender" is one of my favorites. 

 

Going Under The Knife

People say all time that if you don't have your health you don't have anything.  After the most painful, scary, and traumatic two weeks of my life, I know this to be true. I have learned so much about myself and I am forever changed.
 On Tuesday September, 27th I went under the knife to fix what my amazing surgeon, Dr. Huntsman, said was one of the worst ruptured/herniated disks he has seen.  Which would probably explain why I was numb from the waist down. 
Ordinarily a Micro Discectomy is scheduled weeks or Months in advance.  I saw Dr Huntsman Monday  and Tuesday I was being wheeled into the operating room.
In pre-op, one by one, each of the surgeons stopped by to comment on the whopper of a disk they were about to remove.  They made jokes such as " Looks like we are about to deliver a 10 LBS baby," and "You are going to feel so much better once we remove that small house settled on your nerve."  While in recovery, Dr Huntsman said to my Mother and Gabrielle, that it was more of a Condo Community that they removed than a house.  The bits and fluid from my ruptured disk had spread and were effecting the surrounding disks and even my spinal cords.  My nerves were very traumatized and while they try to salvage part of the disk, there was very little of mine to salvage.  Ill use one of my favorite words and say they left a "smidge" of my disk behind in hopes it will grow back. 

The week before the surgery I can say with certainty that I had never felt so much pain in my life x 100.  I stopped eating, drinking, my bowels and blatter stopped functioning.  I missed almost the entire week of work because I couldn't move an inch from the floor.  I suffered for several days by myself because I was prideful and hate for people to see my weakness.  But then my mom called and "I made the mistake" of mentioning that I was in too much pain to eat or drink. My mother came right away.  She helped with the paperwork the U of U's Neurosurgical center needed just to schedule me an appointment.  But unfortunately, it can takes days or weeks to get an initial appointment, so the secretary said she would call me the  next week with an appointment.  My mother slept right next to me on the floor in case I needed anything for several days.  She tried to feed me.  But more than anything she kept me from suffering alone.  By Saturday night, I was in worse shape.  I tried to get to my bathroom but collapsed in my hallway.  My mother said she was going to call an ambulance and I had no fight in me to say no. I couldn't go on like that.
Someday I may write about the horror of that ambulance ride, about the agony, and the furry I feel just thinking about the way they handled  the situation and my body, but for today I cant.  I'm not ready to revisit it.

By the time I reached the Emergency room I was numb from the waist down and had the highest blood pressure I have ever had,  It was dangerously high. I spent the next 6 hours there and while mostly bad I will never forget the kindness of one very special EMT.  I hope that he goes far in his medical career because his compassion somehow made the Urine Debacle of 2011(again something I'm not ready to write about) just a little bit more manageable.  They didn't do an xray, they didn't do a ct scan, they didn't do an MRI, they just pumped me full of morphine, Valium, and toroidal. and sent me home the next morning to wait for a surgeon appointment that could take days. IDIOTS!
On Sunday, as I laid back on my living room floor feeling hopeless and desperate, I kept having a flashback of a person's scar on their back.  Someone I knew had had back surgery and shown me their scar, but I couldn't remember who.  I kept trying to focus on the memory until it hit me, it was my good friend Trenton a year and a half earlier. He actually scrubs in on surgeries as the rep for the company that provides the hardware for orthopedic surgeries.  I texted him about my situation.  He texted the doctor that day and the next morning I got a call from Dr Huntsman's assistant.  She got me in within an hour, she found an MRI clinic appointment right then, we took the images back to the office, and within 20 minutes one of the surgeons came out and said "We are getting you on tomorrows schedule!"


Truth be told, I didn't know even the name of the surgery.  I just knew that I needed the pain to stop. I was tired of crying every moment, even in public.  And I wanted the feeling in my lower half to come back.


When I woke up from surgery, the pain was gone.  But do to the severity of the case, they didn't try to get me up and moving so I could go home. I barely moved for the next 24 hours.  It was the first night I had ever been admitted to the hospital. I spent a total of three days in there.  It was more time than I ever hope to spend again.  Once I was up and moving the reality of my situation hit me.  I was out of pain which I am so thankful for, but unfortunately The bottom of my feet, the back of my legs, and my buttocks were still numb.  I have the ability to walk, but cant feel my feet.  It is bizzareIm pretty sure I now look like Frankenstein when walking.

I keep telling people that a good ass smack is lost on me these days, and anyone who knows me, knows how much I LOVE a good ass smack. Its a small tragedy.
I cant bend, twist,  and I cant sit for longer than 20 minutes.  I have to wear an brace that looks somewhat like a medieval chest plate, but with Velcro.  I have to walk with a walker.  I cant maneuver stairs, I just cant make the muscles and pressure work right.
As much as I wanted out of the hospital, I had no idea how hard the first few days at home would be.  My dear friend Amy brought me dinner that Thursday night and I cried for hours with her.  I couldnt stop.  I was angry, exhausted, and finally realizing what my new life would be like.
I was going from being a woman who worked her ass off between her day job, her cakeball business, doing the farmers market,flirting, dating, going out with friends on weekends, dancing, hanging at the pool every Sunday.  Having every night of my schedule full of friends, family, laughter, adventure, and movement.  To 20 hours a day in bed with three walks mixed in.  The only thing that helped me to stop crying that first night was my dad.   I cant even remember what he said in detail.  But he promised me it would get better, that it would be ok.
The next day I had to fight off tears every moment, but awesome visitors,  countless phone calls, and a plethora of text messages let me know just how loved I was and helped to keep the abyss of self pity just far enough away, that only a few tears slipped through. 
Each day has gotten better. I walk further, spend less time in bed, and can even shower myself now although it takes me 2 hours to do what I used to do in 30 minutes.

After this type of surgery, people can go back to work within 1-3 weeks.  I went back to work on the one week anniversary. I have only worked a few hours a day but it has made all the difference in my depression.  It has given me hope each day as I find myself able to do just a little bit more.  I walk around in circles a lot to keep moving since I cant sit for too long. Everyone at work was shocked that I was back, but I couldn't handle one more day of doing nothing.  I couldn't handle one more day of not being optimistic. I couldn't handle one more day of not being me. 
Putting on my own shoes and socks, being able to bend, twist, climb stairs, and dance, and most importantly, enjoy a good ass smack, will all just have to wait for another day.

What I Didnt Know I Knew

This week has been crazy.  I worked a full week and then spent 4 nights in a row baking like a mad person.  I had cakeballs to make for the Farmers Market today and a plethora of yummy treats to make for my lovely cousin Tori's baby shower, and a dinner party last night where I made my very first Chocolate Souffles.  I will be sure to post pictures.
Maybe it was the exhaustion I felt when I woke up this morning, but I was a little down.  After going to bed late, waking up at 5:45 AM on a Saturday was hard.  But I got out of bed, took a nice shower, and headed to my closet for something "girly."  I decided on a vintage aqua blue pleated skirt, a lace trimmed tank, and then finished my hair and a little make up.  I decided I needed some jewelry to complete my outfit.  I held my Tiffany and Co looking bracelet and necklace and debated.  But on a last minute whim, I went with my only gold jewelry, a little Queen of Hearts playing card necklace, a thin, delicate bracelet, and a costume jewelry pearl and gold ring.
I scrabbled to get everything for the market loaded in my car, I started my engine and hit the road.  I was running later than I had liked, but something on that drive changed me.  I felt calm and peace come over me.  I was even a little emotional as I drove, thinking about how many wonderful people I have in my life that make me feel so loved, people who back me up, who show up to help me time and time again, who bring me chicken noodle soup even when Im not sick, who get up early on Saturdays to help me at the market, people who make me laugh, and most importantly let me just be me.  I realized how happy I was and every worry that hung over my morning was lighter.
The market was pretty much the same as usual but my dear friend Sherie came to help and brought a little envelope full of questions.  They were pretty standard "get to know you" questions, although we have been friends for a decade so it wasn't necessary.  One of these simple questions changed the way I thought of my whole day and made me wonder if sometimes we know things we dont know we know.
Sherie asked me "What is the best gift you have ever given and who did you give it to?"
The instant she asked me, I knew the answer. The best gift I have ever given was a hot air balloon ride to my Gramgram on her 83rd birthday.  It was a magical.  I told her I had a surprise and to be ready early.  I picked her up and drover her to Eden, Ut all the while she kept trying to figure out what I had planned for her.  Once we entered the valley and she saw the balloons sprinkling the skyline she gasped "No!"  And I said "YES!"  I will never forget how awesomely agile she was for 83, climbing in to that basket or how incredibly happy it made me to give her something, since she never wanted presents.  I didn't get to go up with her, there wasn't enough room, so I watched from the ground as she drifted up. 
The whole thing played out in my mind when Sherie asked me the question and so I said "the hot air balloon ride for my Grams."  Just as the words left my lips I suddenly realized that today was August 20th, my Gramgrams birthday.

It was only a little later I realized that the "vintage" skirt I chose this morning was my Grams, she gave it to me before shed died , along with the jewelry.  Short of the Tank and my underthings, I was a walking homage to my Grams on her birthday. 
I don't know why all of these things came together today.  Today would have passed as any other day, filled with a farmer market, a baby shower, and a much needed nap, if Sherie hadn't torn open her envelope of questions.  
I have to wonder why I wore so many things of hers?  Maybe in my heart, sometimes I know things I didn't know I knew.  And Maybe my Gramgrams was with today. 

Portland: The Land of My Best Friend I HAD Never Met

Portland was an epic adventure, scary as hell, full of fun, way too much drinking and eating, and a little like coming home all wrapped up into one little vacation.

I had never been to Portland or the Northwest for that matter before this trip so my imagination ran wild with preconceived notions of  lumberjacks and hippies on every corner.  I am still a little disappointed by the lack of plaid flannel attire and the use of an axe as an accessory.  But the wealth of unique people, restaurants,and bars more than made up for my very few disappointments.   

Gab and I chose Portland for our vacation because my Best Friend I Have Never Met, Ben, lives there.  Heading to a place with a built-in tour guide is a great way to see a new city.  Over the years Ben and I have had several running jokes, one of them being that when I finally came to Portland to see him, he would be out of town.  Ben kept his promise and was out of town, but luckily just for the first day.   Gab and I knew we could fend for ourselves in P-town for one day.  I mean really, how much trouble could we get in?!

Ben was awesome enough to let us stay at his house (even before we had ever met) and his Girlfriend Kim was sweet enough to let us drive her Tahoe.

Gab and I made ourselves at home and then made our very important first stops: Baja Fresh and the Liquor store.  I think Gab actually peed her pants she was so exctied to go to Baja Fresh.  We totally have our priorities straight as you can see. Next stop the Pearl. 
The Pearl district was lively and funky.  We started with Henry's Tavern.  I loved Henry's, I had two fabulous beers; a Vertigo Brewing Apricot Cream Ale and Sea Dog Blue Paw Wild Blueberry Wheat Ale.  Gab got two beers...the latter being really "hoppy" and totally disgusting.  But she loved it and that's what counts.  The bartender bought us each a drink and then slipped Gab his number.  I knew then, it was going to be a good night. 

We "drunk" shopped at Powell Book Store.  I'm not going to say that while on the phone with Ben I shouted that there are no attractive people in Portland, but I'm not going to say that I didn't. 

It was about this point that I gave up my agenda because it was too complicated to follow my iphones walking gps directions, and we just went wherever the night wanted to take us. 

Our stop at Paragon was unforgettable, two older ladies let us use part of their table.  It wasn't long before we realized they were lunatic, cougars, wielding water guns, inconspicuously squirting random people at the bar.  It was the weirdest thing ever.  We ended our first night at the gallery walk, watching street performers and checking out the local craft scene. 







Portland is majestically beautiful. Being from a mountainous region,

I thought I knew mountains, but I had no idea what a forest really was until I set foot in Forest park Friday morning.  I still cant get over how picturesque, lush, and enchanted the forest was. 

As for my hike, I want to call my adventure in Forest Park "delightful" but since I got lost on the way there, lost on the way out, had to pee, and Big Foot tripped my ass, causing a severe sprained ankle on day two of my vacation, I'm going to call Forest Park potentially delightful.  I will never forget my Big Foot sighting or the random runner, literally frothing at the arm pits.  Gab and I died laughing once he was a reasonable distance away. 

My Best Friend I've Never Met...

I started talking to Ben on the phone, I'm thinking back in 2006 for work.  He was so annoying ;-)  But over time and a bazillion endless chatting session later, we became friends.  If I had to define our friendship it would definitely be a Love-Hate kind of thing.  He loved me, I hated him.  I rocked it as a transportation professional and I, to this day, am constantly having to do his job for him and I get to call him "Rinky-Dink" often. 

Joking aside, Ben is such a good man. I had that much figured out a couple years back when he was my shoulder to cry on..over the phone.  He let me vent about my deep heartbreak in a way that only a big heart would. And then I watched him go through hard times of his own and make it through being even more of a romantic than ever.
With all that I knew about him, I still wasn't prepared for how much I adore Ben in person.  I am in awe of the warmth, in which, he greeted my friends and I.  He really just took care of us the whole time.  And as fun as he is on the phone, he is 1000 more fun in person.   I really enjoyed our long talk out on the deck and I'll never forget him saving me from the "guy with khaki pants and a tucked in shirt."

One morning, he turned on a song called Big Heart by Tyler Stenson.  I loved it,  so Ben just gave me the CD.  The lyrics "Big hearts, make mine grow,"  is exactly what I felt meeting Ben.   He is a dear friend and I cant wait for our next visit!  I also loved getting to know Ben's girlfriend Kim.  She was so incredibly welcoming and fun.  I mean only a very cool woman would be down to let three random girls come stay with them.  I may never think of a bridge again, without wondering if this one "randomly collapses" because of Kims hysterical sense of humor.    I totally understand why Ben is happier than I have ever seen him. 

On our second night in Portland.  They took us to the Radio Room for happy hour. I wish SLC had a Happy Hour scene. It was such a fun and inexpensive way to try new place. 

We then went to Apex, which had tons of Beer and picnic tables. A winning combination for sure.
 Ben spilled a huge stein of beer all down the front of me from across the picnic table using telekinesis, at least that's the version of the story I'm telling.
Kells Irish Pub was awesome, although this is where things start to get a little fuzzy. And when my dear friend Amy showed up in her cab straight from the Airport.   I love the pictures of Ben and I doing an Irish Jig.  Given my bad ankle, I was awesome at dancing.  So awesome in fact, Ben started copying my moves.

Gabalicious Loved Ben's old man pipe.  I thought it was ludicrous. 

We topped off our shenanigans with a trip to Voo Doo Doughnuts.  The line was crazy and we were a bunch of crazies in line.  

We had a little donut buffet the next morning sampling a bite of each donut. 

Since the donuts just didnt do the trick, We went to the Farmers Market.  I can now say I have had Stump Coffee.  It was well worth the line to get it. Us ladies collected quite the "booty" of treats.  Mini cookies, brownies, and to-die-for cheesecake. Its a good thing we all shared our little treats and live far far way, because I am pretty sure my booty would have grown twice its size if I had spent anymore time there. 

I love this look on Ben.  Thank goodness he found these glasses at the very end. 

I really appreciate the random guy who took this picture, he took great care to get the fountain in the picture,I'm actually surprised we even made it in picture, he was that worried about the fountain.   









After the Market, I was in need of a nap.  The only problem being that I couldn't sleep the whole time I was in Portland.  The bed was comfortable enough, but no matter how tired I was or how much I wished I could sleep in, I woke up every morning around 6am. Unfortunately my nap was no different.  Gab, Amy, and I all snuggled up with blankets on the coach.  But sleep was a stranger to me so I joined Ben out on his deck. 
It was crazy beautiful out on the deck, lush trees, a small little breeze, and the warm sun.  Kim joined us a short time later.  It was great getting to know each of them a little more and I came away feeling hopeful about love.  Its hard out there, dating, loving, taking chances, the risks are sometimes overwhelming to me. But It was great to see two people who have overcome their past situations and somehow found a way to love each other so whole-hearted.  I needed it more than they will ever know. 
Saturday evening we started at a place called Departure, at the Nines hotel.  It has panoramic views of the city.

 There was such a bizarre group of people on this roof top bar, it was basically a gold mine for people- watching.  I was joking around about hitting on the most bizarre dudes, when a guy who I swear was Lou Diamond Phillips, but taller, walked out.  I was so amused with his crushed velvet jacket and strategically placed fez.  I couldn't help it, without even thinking about the consequences, we locked eyes, and I did the "that's right, I'm checking you out right now" head nod.  It was all the encouragement he needed so he headed in my direction. 

But by the time he swaggered closer, I had already got an absolute "we are not hanging out with this guy for the rest of the night!"  talk.  For at least another 30 minutes I had to dodge his eye contact.  I probably appeared to suffer from Turrets. 

Left: Gab and I checking out the city
Below: La Bomba posing behind Amy

We went to Montage for dinner.  It was the pinnacle of bizarre.  Dead, petrified snakes and puffer fish greeted us at the door. We had trailer bits (deep fried spam) and hush puppies.  It was the only the second time i have had spam, I hate to admit it, but it was good.  The Mac and Cheese was out of this world good.  I got their half spicy, half old style, they call it Spold, weird name, delicious mac and cheese.  They had really funny drinks like Your Not My Real Dad and Cross-eyed Rosie. 

We then headed for the area called Northwest 23rd.   We had yummy drinks at Matador and Dessert at Papa Hyde.  It looked so pretty, almost too pretty to eat.  I was sad that I could only eat a few bites. 

The following morning we headed to Zells for the best Eggs Benedict and then headed for the Airport.
With all the eating we did, I thought for sure I gained 100 LBS, but luckily I only gained a 4. 

Random favorite moments:

• Ben serenading us with "you make me feel like I am living a teenage dream" while cruising around in a mini van. 
• Ben driving around in a mini van.
• Shaking Gab vigorously in the middle of the night to see who was sleeping next to me.
• Checking our room after we backed up, to make sure nothing of ours was left behind, only to find a Levitation kit under the bed that belonged to Ben's roommate....so weird.
• What I'm calling the Bridge Debacle of 2011- We took the wrong turn and accidentally got on a Bridge that crossed the Columbia River.  It was pretty traumatic considering I had just seen a movie trailer where a bridge collapses while people are driver on it, less than 24 hours before.  I think both Gab and I thought at any minute we were going to crash and go over the sides. It was horrifying and my little wrong turn took us practically to Washington. 

 Our trip to Portland was jammed pack with fun, adventure, laughter, amazing food, and way too much drinking.  It was everything I could hope for in a vacation. "It was absolutely amazing finally getting to meet one of my best friends...met or not met."  The city is just an awesomely weird place that I hope to visit many times in future.