A report from what felt like the tundra, but with better restaurants

I’m convinced, now, after our trip to Portland that Oregonians are the type of people with whom you would want to be trapped in an elevator. They are unfailingly polite and kind so, even if you never got OUT of the elevator, you’d be calm and soothed by their lovely demeanor and end up thinking, “What a charming group of people to perish with!”

It was a perfect weekend, albeit cold (and I know all of you people over in the Midwest are thinking “COLD? I’LL SHOW YOU COLD!” but you don’t need to as I’ve LIVED there and survived 20 degrees below zero and this is why I moved back to California and deal with the property taxes and disproportionate amount of fake breasts). I think I felt the cold more because I had forgotten my gloves, a rookie error, I’ll admit. I stubbornly dealt with my glovelessness, however, because I have a drawer full of them at home for every conceivable temperature and physical activity, so it seemed, in these economic times, frivolous to purchase another pair. I instead shoved my hands, which turned blue then red then back to pink as they would thaw out, into my pockets while Marc hollered things like, “HAVE YOU LEARNED YOUR LESSON?” “I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU MADE SUCH A BASIC PACKING ERROR.” “BOY YOU’LL NEVER DO THAT AGAIN, WILL YOU?” He bleeds sympathy, that one.

But despite the constant threat of hypothermia and one instance of almost getting shivved over on the east side, we had a splendid weekend full of eating and drinking and walking. If ever you need a city through which to graze, Portland is it. I come from a family in which we often plan the next meal in the middle of our current one and Marc was amazed by my gastronomic dedication. While our pants’ waists were worked to their utmost, straining under the pressure of yet another good meal I’d say, “Ok, here are our options for dinner…” and Marc, wiping the sweat from his brow and popping a Tums would moan, “SERIOUSLY? How can you be thinking of eating? I’m still digesting lunch from yesterday!” Amateur. No, really, he sacked up and we enjoyed so many good meals that it’s worth the extra time I need to spend on the treadmill this week.

I think one of my favorite things was seeing a movie at The Living Room. It's a movie theater thinly veiled as a swanky eatery. You walk in, sidle up to the bar, order a drink and can either take it into the movie with you or pick a fireplace and consume your drink there. Dinner is also available (but we had just eaten and I'm not THAT well acquainted with gluttony) and the food looked glorious. The theaters are made up of rows of love seats with exceptionally wide armrests with deep drink holders so that your glass of wine or beer won't go sloshing all over the place while your cuddle with your date. The films are all small and independent and DIGITAL! So SUSTAINABLE! Without being in your face about it! In fact, that is something that impressed me about all of Portland. While they are one of the most eco-friendly cities in the entire nation, it does not at all come with a hearty dose of self righteousness, a combination often found in my fellow Californians. It's more like "Meh, whatever. Why wouldn't we try to preserve our planet? What did you have for dinner?" My kind of people!

So my 33rd year was brought in properly and I feel very fortunate to have been able to explore another city that is beautiful, full of kind people and great food. If anyone need recommendations, I have a list! Though my first piece of advice, should you go in the winter months is: BRING YOUR BLOODY GLOVES. My hands are still thawing out.