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Archive for the ‘Home Sweet Home’ Category

Dear Summer,

Listen: I know plenty of people like you. We were all conditioned to like you because that is when we finally got a break from school.

But imma** be real with you: I hate you. You can GTFO.

I don’t like to sweat. It’s why I prefer exercising in the water.

I don’t want to lie in the sun and bake.

I’m not a fan of wearing shorts.

I moved to the Pacific Northwest where I was promised clouds and rain.

Yet here you are, Summer. Coming in hot.

Literally.

It was above 100 degrees for a few days last week.

My office is on the third floor of an old building with no air conditioning.

My house does not have central air.

Many places here do not have AC.

Why? It was never needed.

Now it is.

For you MAGA idiots who “do your own research” squawking that climate change isn’t real, let me tell you something:

It really f—ing is.

I have a degree in meteorology. For real.

(Ok, I’m breathing. Deep breaths. In with the good air; out with the bad.)

Anyway, no air.

When I got here and noted this travesty, people said to me, “But Beth, you are from the South!”

Yes, and we have air conditioning everywhere. In fact, the AC is so strong that you keep a sweater in your car just in case.

Not here. I even took the usual sweater off my naked cat so he could stay cool.

It’s not over yet. Tuesday will be hot too.

And I remember last year when we had 107-degree temps for a week in August. Fun.

So, Summer, please go. Fall, you’re the one that I want.

Kthxbyeeee,
Beth

*Glenn.
**Stealing from kids today.

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Dear Oregon,

I think we are going to be ok together. I’m feeling optimistic.

It’s probably because the sun is back.

Or the fact that I realized I’ve had nearly two full weeks of social activities, including:

Line dancing with Henry, a friend from college who was passing through.
Karaoke with coworkers and friends old and new.
Games with long-time friends from my Savannah days.
A huge wine-tasting event I was able to attend for free with another coworker.
Line dancing at a new-to-me club in Salem: Silver Spur.

About that club …

It was packed with folks aged 25-35.

Hence, not folks like me. 😂

I enjoyed the people-watching.

But then this happened:

I have thoughts.

  • This is LINE DANCING, not a sporting event. No need for the national anthem. (I would argue that we don’t even need it at sporting events.)
  • This is HOURS into the night. Why play it THEN?
  • Is this girl signing the anthem? If so, is that RIGHT? It looks made up. Like this lady. (Based on this, I think she’s full of it.)

In addition to the fascinating fauna people, the flora is pretty great too.

Double-flowering plum trees are everywhere.
They are lovely until a stiff wind comes by.

In general, I’m happy. Everything is going to be ok.

Thanks for being patient with me.

Your new friend,
Beth

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Dear Fellow Southerners:

I don’t think we know just how weird we are until we get around people who “ain’t from around here.”

Y’all* know I was just in Savannah. While there, I had to load up on things I can’t get in Oregon.

  1. Collard greens. When I find them in Oregon, the leaves are small and anemic. I’m used to ones the size of tobacco leaves.
  2. Barbecue sauce. Vinegar-based. Don’t give me any of that sweet Kansas City crap.
  3. Crab Shack hot sauce and seasoning. They also have a mustard-based barbecue sauce that’s pretty good.
  4. Applewood-smoked bacon. There is no comparison to meat from the Ogeechee Meat Market.
  5. Pimento cheese-flavored popcorn. Yes, please.
  6. Fresh okra. I asked for it at Roth’s the other day, and you would have thought I asked for a package of human fingers.
  7. Coffee from Dunkin’ Donuts. That is not a Southern thing, but there’s no runnin’ on Dunkin’ in the PNW. Probably because of Starbucks. I don’t want DD ground coffee. I can get that. I want the in-store brewed coffee. So I froze a Box o’ Joe and packed it.

More than half of my 44-pound suitcase (!) filled with groceries.

One morning this week, I woke up singing “BFE” by Kane Brown. That was the morning I decided to have fried okra for breakfast. That’s right: cut, bathed in egg, coated in a mix of seasonings, flour and corn meal. For breakfast. I made it slightly healthier by popping it in the air fryer.

And so I’m singing the song, dredging this okra in breading, and I realized this:

You can take the girl out of the South, but you can’t take the South out of the girl.

I smiled, and kept on going.

My okra was amazing.

Look at it!

Clearly, I ain’t from around here.

And that’s ok. It makes me appreciate my background even more.

All y’all have a good day, ya hear!

Your Redneck Friend,
Beth (the devil who went down to Georgia 😂)

*Legit contraction not limited to the South anymore.

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Dear Friends and Family,

I experienced my first snow in Oregon. It snowed all day yesterday. As the temperature is not going to get above freezing for a few days, I’ll get to enjoy it for a bit.

I’m a Southern girl. This is a big deal.

I decided to walk into town to explore — something I haven’t yet done, despite having lived here for nearly six months.

The key to being comfortable in any weather is the right gear.

I have a new Columbia Sportswear waterproof jacket with the baked-potato lining and Sorel boots (bougie, I know).

My sweatshirt has a pouch for a beer. As I’m doing Dry January, this pouch served as the perfect carrier for Stumptown cold brew instead.

I was almost too warm on my journey.

Here are some scenes from my walk:

No snow plows/gritters in this place.
When I first moved here, the trains that use these tracks seemed SO LOUD to me. Now they are just part of the fabric of my life.
It’s like “It’s a Wonderful Life” out here.
I love signs and murals on the sides of buildings.
Don’t worry: This pooch wasn’t out there for long.
About half of the places were closed because of the weather or permanently because of sheer small-town economics.
This is exactly what I would expect from a gift shop in Oregon: crystals and coffee accessories.
… and Sasquatch-related things.
Sometimes it’s nice to really notice what is around you.
Home Sweet Home
Cat Weird Cat

Looking forward to experiencing all the seasons here.

I’ll report back.

Staying warm, 
Beth

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Hello, and Happy Sunday!

I woke up THRILLED today because I had a great night:

I got to see hundreds of naked men. And women.

But that wasn’t why it was a good night. 😉

It was a good night because I made new friends.

It’s always hard to move to a new city and start fresh.

I got to a point where I was mostly done unpacking and started talking to the cat more than seemed normal.

Did you know Facebook dating has a friendship option?

I didn’t until two glasses of wine into Tuesday night when I was missing my STL Tuesday Game Night friends.

I matched with Jackie. We texted. Had a phone call (this is big for me as I hate to talk on the phone). Didn’t get a serial killer vibe.

She invited me out with two of her friends for the World Naked Bike Ride — supporters not participants.

I learned about this event last year.

Yes, please.

Jackie, Melissa, Jen and I stopped by a grocery store in Portland. While waiting for Jen, an elderly woman rushed up to us:

Ladies, did you know a woman reaches a certain age where she can have as many cats as she wants? It’s called “manypaws.”

Lord have MERCY.

She told another dad joke, then walked off.

Me: Do you know her?

Melissa: No, but that’s Portland for you.

We had dinner. Told stories from our lives. Laughed. Then cheered on people braver than I am.

Melissa is planning a Mrs. Roper bar crawl.

Y’all, I’ve found my people.

Next weekend might feature a hike at a monk hangout with a wine tasting involved. I’ll be sure to report back.

Your friend,
Beth

*Dionne, of course.

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Hi everyone!

My first week went well. Everyone has been very kind, very welcoming.

I’ve also been a bit overwhelmed at the scope of the work to do. I stayed late every night this week trying to get a handle on my role. But my instincts have proven to be sound, and I’ll be fine.

The view from my desk

I have discovered that Oregonians are a particular kind of nice.

They are lovely people, but don’t seem to go out of their way to help. High school friend Aileen, who lives in Salem, warned me about that.

You have to ask explicitly for what you want.

For example, I locked myself out of my house for the first time in my life the week before I started work. The doorknob of the door leading into the garage has a thumb lock you really have to work at to pop out. I thought I had done that.

When I returned from taking out the trash, I realized I had not.

I had only the clothes on my back. No phone. And I was filthy because I had been painting and unboxing and trying to get the place in order.

Ruh, roh, Raggy.

I didn’t even know where campus security was to get help. (I live on campus.) I walked to my soon-to-be office building to call campus security. One of my direct reports was working late. I materialized in her doorway. She and I were both horrified at the state of me. She barely recognized me.

Beth?!

Yeah.

She called security and handed me the phone.

Security officer: I don’t know that we even have keys to that place.

Me: If you don’t, do you know a locksmith?

Him: I’m not from here. I don’t know a locksmith.

Me: Could I use your phone to call one?

Him: Sure. I’ll meet you at your house in 10 minutes.

We arrive at the same time. He tried the keys. No luck. I use his phone to call a locksmith. The dude has to come from Salem, which is 45+minutes. He asks me what kind of lock it is. I tell him it’s heavy duty because it’s campus housing. He says he might have to drill it out. We hang up.

Me: I don’t think the facilities group is going to like that.

Security officer: No. I don’t think the campus locksmith will either.

Me (incredulous): THERE’S A CAMPUS LOCKSMITH?!

Him: Oh yes.

Me: Well, can we call him?

Him: Yes, I’ll call the facilities manager on call.

Me: THERE’S A FACILITIES MANAGER ON CALL?!?

Darrell the Campus Locksmith got there in five minutes and let me in.

See what I mean? Nice but not forthcoming.

It’s different from Southern nice, where people WILL go out of their way but talk smack about you when the screen door shuts.

And different from Midwest nice, where people will go out of their way with no expectation of return favors and no gossip.

So now I know. I can work with that.

I’ll keep you posted on the adventures I expect to have.

Beth

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Hi everyone!

It’s been A WEEK.

My car arrived. I returned the RV. The boys left. The moving truck arrived. I lost count of how many boxes I opened in my quest to settle in. I gained a hundred bruises on my body. I lost weight via sweating.

It’s starting to come together, but it’s been a long week.

The house provided to me has not been loved for some time. I’m grateful for it, but it’s clear it has been short-term housing. I want to be here long-term. I want to leave it better than I found it.

So I painted the living room and dining room by myself.

Look at this nonsense I found while preparing to spackle:

Come ON!
Who paints a living and dining room this yellow anyway? Yes, I know gray has a bad reputation, but it’s better than yellow.

I haven’t painted walls in YEARS. My body was a wreck afterward.

But it looks good.
Sadly, there’s nothing I can do about the Blair Witch basement. Except not EVER go down there at night.
I also met the neighbors.

I haven’t even started work yet, but I had a work event last night. My new university is home to a large wine festival. There is a salmon bake. I was invited to mingle with trustees and donors.

I hadn’t put on makeup and nice clothes for about two weeks.

I even got all the paint out of my hair!

I don’t know what I expected, but it was not the huge event that it was.

Look at all these people!
Meat for miles
The salmon bake
All local produce. Delicious!

I’m so glad I went. It was nice to be among people again after a week spent with boxes and Leo.

Work begins tomorrow.

Wish me luck!
Beth

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Captain’s Log, Day 6 (413 miles logged)

We left the RV parking lot early.

Oregon did not start off impressive.

Dry

Things started looking up, scenery-wise, once we started driving along the Columbia River.

Once again, Leo could not be bothered.

That mouth
Just LOOK at him!

Everyone perked up when the landscape started looking like what you would expect from the Pacific Northwest.

Mt. Hood welcomed us.
Sasquatch hasn’t … yet.

We drove up to my new digs and got the key.

It’s got some things going for it (a big front porch, good size overall) but some things against (no central air, bathrooms are on the first floor while bedrooms are on the second).

And this kitchen — while fine — is nowhere near as great as my St. Louis kitchen.
My St. Louis kitchen. See what I mean?

In fact, I missed my kitchen so much that I CRIED when my utensil organizer wouldn’t fit in the drawer.

It wasn’t about the drawer, though.

It was THE MOMENT that it all became real. I live here now.

I’m so glad I had the family to distract me.

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Captain’s Log, Day 1 (and lead up)

Movers came.

A ramp on my steps!

Car transport service came.

It was weird to watch my car drive away without me.

I packed the remaining stuff for the RV and worried about space.

The next day, the epic road trip started out fine. I had to pick up the RV in Kansas City, so I hitched a ride with my brother who was headed there for a gig.

Look at me with Lodell: fresh faced and ready for adventure.

Why did I have to get it in Kansas City? Good question. Cruise America doesn’t have any locations closer to St. Louis. It was KC or Chicago. Weird, but ok.

While on the way, Gideon was updating me on the flight. Allegiant flies direct from Savannah, Georgia, to Belleville, Illinois, (close to St. Louis) seasonally. No frills, of course. It’s a sky bus.

Despite my flight tracker saying they were en route and the Allegiant app saying they were on time, they were delayed. No explanation.

According to Gideon, for a moment, it looked like they were going to board. But then, the flight was canceled. No reason given. No attempt to reschedule: Sucks to be you; we’ll give you a voucher.

The next flight out on any airline that would get them there that night was $1,319 per ticket.

Mama ain’t got that kind of cash.

Survey says: Delta for $259 the next morning.

I arranged all this while sitting on a stack of furniture pads in the RV place that doubles as a UHaul rental center.

So that was fun.

They headed home. So did I.

Despite being 30 feet long, the RV is easy to drive. It’s not cheap, though.

Yikes. That’s about 10 miles per gallon.

What I had been counting on was having help loading the beast for the trip with everything the movers didn’t take.

Thar she blows!

But that wasn’t the case. My next-door neighbors took pity on me and helped me with some of it.

I organized as much as I could before the heat melted me like the Wicked Witch of the West.

Next up: The adventure begins. For real this time.

* Of course.

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Dear Savannah:

Mardi Gras in St. Louis reminded me of you.

It’s definitely like St. Patrick’s Day on River Street.

Sea of drunk, rowdy people? Check.
Interesting outfits? Check.
People making questionable choices? Check.
Evidence of a “good time” everywhere? Check.
Too much of a good time very early in the day? Check.
No personal space? Check.

The only thing different is that St. Louis had a parade with actual floats (not politicians in convertibles).

Though I won’t be able to experience St. Pat’s with you this year, you clearly are in my thoughts.

Love always,
Beth

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