To The Journey...

As 2015 comes to a close, we're all reflecting upon the year we had. Looking back at my year, I struggle to wrap my brain around the journey.

I started 2015 purposefully unemployed in Vancouver, happily immersing myself in the art of improv and the mountains of the pacific northwest. I drove across country, experienced my first hospital stay, landed in my parent's home, and networked my way back into full-time employment. Now settled into a new home in downtown Chicago, I'm now trying not to loose this new-and-improved version of my life in the daily routine of work & commute.

...Geez, guys, no wonder I'm so tired!

Seriously, how the hell did I do all that? My brain honestly can't comprehend the last 12 months of my life. All I do know is that I have this blog and new Facebook friends to prove that it happened.

I also know that in terms of the journey, this one has come to a close. The blogging one, anyway. I started this form of public musing in an effort to chronicle my adventures as I found the way to my new destination. And frankly... I've arrived.

Yes, physically I have a home, but more importantly I have found a better balance within myself. My creative pursuits are finally of equal importance to my career. (Though the struggle continues to ensure they don't hinder each other.) I successfully left the only city I'd ever lived in and built a home for myself in another. I crossed mountains, deserts and international borders that seemed daunting two years before. And I have the confidence in myself to know that I could do it all over again if I wanted to. Which, in reality, I probably will.

Thank you for your support and interest in this crazy journey I embarked on. I hope you have found it as interesting and ridiculous as I have. I hope you've embarked on an adventure of your own or tried something on your bucket list. And I hope we both continue to do the things that scare us.

Happy New Year.

Windy City Life Update

The past weeks have been a whirlwind of new job, new commute, family commitments, and improv class. And somewhere in there I’m trying to unpack my belongings that have been shut inside a storage unit for the past year.

I planned on stopping this blog once I felt at home in my new city-dwelling & improvising life. Instead, I just stopped talking. Apologies.

The truth is, my new life so far has felt like a hazing process for new Chicago residents. I’ve discovered things left in my apartment that would make you cringe. I’ve chased after buses and trains. I’ve crammed myself on already-packed buses and trains. I’ve waited in piercing wind and drenching rain for buses and trains. (See a trend, here?) I’ve cursed Chicago landlords. I’ve celebrated when my apartment’s heating turned on and cursed it when it wasn’t hot enough. I’ve arranged utilities, argued with my internet & cable provider, and forgotten an appointment with the gas company.

At work the past two months have been a series of successes and failures. I’ve hit roadblocks for certain, but have yet to fall completely on my ass. …So I guess there’s that.

Within all of this, I’ve been doing what I purposefully moved downtown to do. I spend at least three nights a week at a theater of one kind or another, either learning by doing or learning by watching. I laugh a lot and have had the pleasure of befriending some truly lovely human beings. I’m in no way settled into my new life, but I’m starting to feel more comfortable.

Occasionally it hits me that I actually did the thing I set-out to do. Returning to Chicago, my goal was to work and live downtown – with less business travel and more personal time – so I can pursue my new artsy goals. And holy crap you guys, I actually did it. The moments I realize this feel so fulfilling and confidence boosting. I hope I can enjoy them more once I’ve adjusted to the logistics of my new life.

For now though, I’m off to brave rush hour in the third largest city in America.
Wish me luck.

My Ride Home

Happy Anniversary

The past three weeks have been filled with the sentence, "This time last year..."

I took a mid-September holiday up to Vancouver.  I flew out on the day I had just given up my apartment the year before.

My first day back at work after said trip was the one year anniversary of embarking on my road trip in 2014. I found this the most poignant of all anniversaries.  On the day I said 'screw it' to the universe one year, I said 'yes' to a new job and routine the next.

Today, as I write this, it is the one year anniversary of my arrival in Vancouver. When last year I crossed the border crying and laughing simultaneously, today I celebrated with a stuffy, un-airconditioned ride home on Chicago public transit on my way to my pre-Vancouver improv class. And honestly? I was perfectly happy.

It's an odd feeling.  As I'm growing more comfortable with life here, Vancouver still feels like it happened yesterday. Granted I just took a trip to visit, but be it six months or 3 years I know I'll have a second home there.

Speaking of homes, I move into a new one this Saturday. The furniture and boxes I put into storage one year ago will be pulled out and driven to Chicago's Andersonville neighborhood. I will have my own couch. My own bed.  ...and it will feel so very final. 

This journey will be over.  

So Little Time

It's been a heck of a week. New job & excessive commute left me exhausted.  How did I not think this change in lifestyle would be hard?

In an effort to ease the commute, I spent the better part of my Labor Day weekend apartment hunting in Chicago.  I saw some great places and some not-so-great ones. I put an offer in on one, only to find it rented the night before  and I had to promptly begin the search again.  No firm housing plans yet - hopefully the second application is successful.

In the midst of all this, I was cramming in preparations to travel back to Vancouver. I'm on my way today with an over-packed suitcase and a relative idea of what my week there will look like. Overall, though,  it's a day I've been anticipating for months, but is now feeling like one more thing I have to deal with.  I'm guessing this feeling will disappear when I arrive... I just find it surprising.

Day One and Done

The first day back at work went well. Lots of paperwork and meetings, as well as a lovely lunch out with my department. The people are nice. ...I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Perhaps the 'other shoe' is my commute. I spent 7 hrs at work and 5.5 hrs getting there and back. I was just a few seconds late for my bus, my other bus and my train. Yes, I was that person scrambling to chase down public transit like I had left my phone / baby / donated kidney on the CTA. (Ok, technically I've never seen a donated organ on the bus, but I think we can all agree it's probably happened at some point. I mean, FedEx Letter envelopes explicitly say, "Do not ship liquids or blood." That means someone previously tried to ship blood. ...in an envelope.)

In reality, my commute is temporary until I find a place in the city, which should shrink it to only an hour each way. Until then, however, I'm going to continue doing my best impression of this guy...

Here's to Day 2!

Back-to-School

Tomorrow is the big day - Monday, August 31st I start my new job. I will have gone exactly one year without working full-time.

Tonight, on "First-Day-of-Work Eve," I feel like a cross between a nervous school kid and a cantankerous employee who has been pulled back from retirement. I'm attempting to dismiss any nerves with a wave of the hand, declaring starting a new job to be old hat. While at the same time I'm packing a new backpack, picking out clothes, and worrying about catching my bus on time. Oh, and I made sure to get my hair cut last week. 

Here's hoping I find someone to sit with in the cafeteria. 

Full Circle

So, you guys, it's been a hectic few weeks. Here's the long and short of the shenanigans:

I spent a week in an intensive musical improv class that basically re-wired my brain and it's now stuck on the act of rhyming random words....curds, birds, turds, nerds...

I celebrated my 35th birthday! When my family asked what I wanted for presents, I requested gift cards for gas and groceries. Practicality abounds in my thirties, apparently.

I dragged myself out of bed at pre-dawn hours to witness the Perseid Meteor Shower. Sitting like a weirdo in a lawn chair, in the dark, at the end of my parent's driveway, I finally witnessed my first meteor shower. ...Until my mom told me about a family vacation we took to Arizona, where we all sat on a mesa in mystical Sedona to watch intergalactic pieces of rock streak across the sky. I have zero memory of this and am super frustrated.

The most consuming part of the last few weeks - and reason for my radio silence - has been a flurry of job interviews. I suddenly went from woefully filling-out online applications to digging suits out of my closet and preparing for three interviews in a one week period. Then follow-up interviews the week after that. Oh, and the contract work I've been doing? Add that in too. Unfortunately for me and the people I live with, this all hit during PMS. In a five day period I ate an entire tube of raw Pillsbury chocolate chip cookie dough. Did I get sick and die? No. But I did hate myself afterward when I could barely squeeze into my Ann Taylor power suits.  (...oh well, we all know I'll do it again)

So much was happening! It was incredibly encouraging and confidence boosting. At the same time, every interview FAQ / info sheet / internet article reminds you never to discuss the interviewing process while your interviewing. I understand the logic behind it, but it doesn't leave you with much to talk or write about.

However I'm writing about it now, so you've assumed correctly that my interviewing is over. I've accepted a position at a medical association in downtown Chicago and begin work August 31st. It is a role that will be challenging - in a good way. It will allow me to move to the city and pursue my improv & musical endeavors until my heart is content.  I'll share more specifics as my employment begins, but will say that I am very excited about the choice I am making.

I hope you're happy for me, too.

Can I See Some I.D.?

I am, by far, the oldest person in my Second City improv class.  I honestly don't mind.  Age doesn't come into consideration much when you're playing theater games. (Plus, the teacher was older than me, so it was ok)

Then last week it happened.  We were debating where to hangout after class and as I packed my bag, the rest of the group began talking quietly amongst themselves. The result? 

"We'll need to find a restaurant - not everyone is 21."

Uh.... what?

Not only is "not everyone" under age, half the class needs fake ID's. 

I said how we can still go to the pub across the street as planned - they do have food. In their eyes I saw fear. I was that adult their parents had warned them about.  The person who would corrupt their teetotaling ways and lure them into the world of corruption and day-drinking. The young ones were terrified.

I quickly recovered by suggesting other restaurants on Wells St. and we were off with no permanent harm done.

But ohmygod... I knew these kids were college age, but it never occurred to me they'd yet to hit one of adulthood's milestones. One even has their twenty-first birthday this week!

I firmly believe that diversity makes us stronger,  so we continue to bond over our commonalities and inform each other on our differences.  I told them what microfiche was after it was suggested in class and in turn, I'm part of a 'group text' which is more like a continuous conversation than an easy way for people to tell you they're running late.

Many of my new, young friends will return to college after our class concludes in August. I'm curious to see if my next group is as diverse in age. ...I hope they are. It only makes our time together more interesting.

Cheers!

America, the Beautiful

Happy belated birthday, America! Like most in my country, I spent the weekend surrounded by an obnoxious level of Americana and World Cup viewing parties. (Sports!) 

I also got teased for my time outside of America. "Ya sure you shouldn't be wearing a maple leaf?!" ...Yeah, because how much of our country did you see last year? Oh, you went to Vegas and Orlando? Oh, ok. Well, I saw this much: Wisconsin; Minnesota; South Dakota; Wyoming; Montana; Idaho; Washington; Oregon; California; Nevada; Arizona; New Mexico; Colorado; Nebraska; Iowa; and Illinois.

Badlands National Park

Mt. Rushmore National Memorial

Little Bighorn Battlefield National Monument

Buffalo! 

Livingston, Montana

Hurricane Ridge at Olympic National Park

Tillamook State Forest, Oregon 

Mt. Shasta, California

Golden Gate Bridge, San Francisco

I drove over it!

Maria & I - Family Visit in San Francisco

Colorado Highway

I have an excessive amount of pictures - it was difficult to choose. The point is that our country is vast, varied, and very drive-able. As beautiful as our patchwork quilt is from a 747 flying at 30,000 feet, there's nothing like the experience of traversing it yourself. 

Go explore.

My Own 'Second City'

There are two schools of thought on the origin of my hometown's most well-known moniker, "The Second City." One belief is that a New York Times reporter coined the phrase while insulting Chicago, labeling it second-class after New York City. This is entirely possible. I mean, have you met New Yorker's? 

I subscribe to the other version of history, which attributes the nickname to the The Great Fire of 1871.  Upon the fire's ashes, Chicagoan's rebuilt an even bigger and better version of their city, earning it the nickname "The Second City." Meaning that we are not the second city-of-the-U.S., we are the second City-of-Chicago. ...Chicago 2.0. ... Chicago the sequel.

One of the most well-known parts of our city is "The Second City" improv company. I started class here last Sunday and half-way through our lesson the instructor led us through a form of group meditation. "In this room," he said, "is infinite space and infinite possibility. This is a beginning."

A great thing to say to any performer, but it resonated deeply with me. This past year of my life has been about change. Here I was, trying to tread a new path in my home town, feeling out of place as the oldest person in my class, and wrestling with balancing this new interest with the life I was expected to 'restart' now that I'd returned to Chicago.

His words were instantly stunning and relaxing. They gave me permission to let go of the pressure I'd been placing on myself. I didn't need to lead a double life - I could wipe the slate clean. I may be in the same town, but I didn't have to be the same person.

So like my home town, I'm brushing away the ashes and building anew. ...I'm just glad it didn't take an actual fire for me to get there.

My Sunday Afternoons

A Day at the Beach

I'm guessing you're expecting selfies and bathing suit photos? Nope. Not that kind of beach trip. 

I worked on Chicago's northshore for just over five years. When I was feeling overly stressed or just needed something different to do at lunch, I would drive east 25 minutes to sit at the shore of Lake Michigan. It didn't give me much time to do anything but enjoy the view, but that was more than enough.

My favorite lunch spot

I'd become a bit stir crazy this past week, so on a sunny day I hopped in my car to go for a drive. I drove myself here subconsciously, soon doing my best to recognize old landmarks. It took just over an hour to get there, but it was worth it.

On a clear day you can see to... Michigan

I hate to swim, but I've always enjoyed listening to the water. It's something I've missed greatly since my return to the midwest... I hadn't realized how much until I arrived here. I spent nearly sixty minutes simply staring out at the lake and listening to the waves hit the shore. Had the smell of salt water been in the air, I could've convinced myself that I was back on the west coast. Instead, I forced myself to recognize the view as Chicago. As home.

The Great Lakes are not the Pacific ocean, but they can be damn impressive. I should take better advantage of them.

Down The Rabbit Hole

Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. It has been two months since my last confession blog post.

I know, right?! I have no idea how that happened either. I've thought about posting, but in the end I didn't. In the end, nothing felt 'interesting enough' to share.

That's the hurdle I've been struggling with... to make home interesting. In my life, I've always considered the adventure to be elsewhere. Home is the safe, stable place and the crazy, exciting part of life is in another city, another state, or another country. Home is where I come to do the job that earns me the money that allows me to go off and do the fun things. Not where the exciting parts of life happen. It's that mindset that's knocked me down into the rabbit hole.

You know that hole... where complacency and routine reign. Where you think, "Ugh, I'm tired. I'll go do that interesting thing next time" or "I should focus on the things I have to accomplish at work. That should be most important." That's a dangerous place to live and I fell right back into it.

It's so easy, though! We spend so much time there as adults it becomes our comfort zone. I was aware of this danger when I returned to Chicago and I vowed that I'd explore and experience the city as if it were new to me. And I did occasionally... but more often than not I fell back into old routines and habits... and down the rabbit hole I went.

So here I am, two months later, doing my best to drag myself out and look around. Yes, there are the dangers on the surface. You could get lost. You be caught in a storm without shelter. You could be hit by some asshole driving their car while texting. Anything is possible! The rabbit hole is safe because nothing changes. Nothing. Changes. ...God, that sounds horrible, doesn't it?

It is now my promise to you, dear reader, that I will post a minimum of twice a week from now on. As much as I hope to entertain and interest you, it will be my motivation to get out of my rabbit hole and find the interesting things at home. Because if this is where I'm spending most of my time... damn it, it should be fun.

I Didn't 'Walk the Walk'

The experience of relocating to a city in which you know very few people - if any - is a challenging one. As I was making the effort to meet new people and form relationships in Vancouver, I promised myself that the next time I encountered someone who was new to a city I'm living in that I would work hard to make them feel welcome. I'd go above and beyond the standard, "Welcome! I'm sure I'll see you around!" and actually spend time with that person. I'd include them in things my friends and I were doing. I'd call them to say hi. I'd introduce them to people. I'd go way beyond the standard of midwestern hospitality - I'd become an annoying, over enthusiastic, one-woman welcome wagon!

So naturally, this past Sunday I became a hypocrite.

Leaving an improv workshop downtown, I chatted with a girl who had recently moved to the city from the state of Michigan. We walked together back to the train, discussing the struggles of finding 'your people' in a new place and the perils of learning a new public transit system. As we parted I smiled and said, "It was great meeting you! I'm sure I'll see you around!" and I walked away.

It wasn't until I settled into my seat that I realized what had happened... I had become the person I promised myself I wouldn't be. Granted, there's nothing wrong with that person, but I wanted to be someone different. Instead, I was that distracted local who assumed someone else would help her out.

Turns out I was big on talk, but low on follow-through.

The upside - I've been telling myself - is that I will most likely see her again at a class/workshop/performance and have a chance to make good on my promise. Let's hope it's soon - I have a lot of 'new girl' karma to pay back.

I Used to Do This?

I haven't posted in a while, I know. I've been doing things - interesting things! Things I'd like to share. But holy cow, having a job is exhausting! I've only been doing some contract work this past week and a half, but I arrive home each night with just enough energy to eat dinner and stare at the television. How did I hold down a full time job - one with a significant amount of travel - while also taking classes and seeing friends in the evening? 

My life of leisure has changed me more than I expected. My temporary job is over, but I'll now be venturing into downtown Chicago for the next week to volunteer with the Chicago Improv Festival. (Though I'll be taking a break from hilarity to indulge in nerdiness at the Chicago Comics & Entertainment Expo on Saturday.) Will I survive my new schedule? Or will spending late nights in a theater return me to my life-in-Vancouver night owl?

Time will tell. ...but right now I have some time, so I'm going to spend it napping.

Paper Cuts Equal Big Bucks

Despite my rough condition when arriving in Chicago, I've been lucky to have a nice cushion to land on. My previous employer has been gracious and desperate enough to invite me back to complete some odd jobs as they prepare for the association's annual meeting.

It's definitely surreal being back, but it's mostly comfortable. So comfortable it's almost like I never left... but I'm trying not to over think this. After all, I'm not being paid to think! I'm being paid to collate paper and stuff it into bigger pieces of folded paper, known as envelopes. To complete this highly-skilled task I'm using all the knowledge of my Bachelor's Degree and two professional certifications... ok, that's a lie. But if ever any degree needed a class in avoiding paper cuts, it's event planning.

Nevertheless, I'm incredibly grateful to have a purpose each day and to be responsible to someone other than myself. And for the opportunity to actually increase the amount in my checking account.

Things I am not grateful for:

• Having to set an alarm clock
• Filling out a W9 Form
• Being exhausted by 5pm on a Tuesday
• Disruption of my TV viewing schedule. I'd just started 'Orphan Black,' people!

Being back in my old office really is a bit of a trip. To prove to you the universe is enjoying messing with me, this song was playing on the radio when I pulled into the parking garage.

I know, right?!

I Live Here

I once walked-in on a conversation between my then-boss and colleague, and was asked "What is the first thing you do when you move to a new town?" I answered, "Get a library card." Judging by their expressions, I didn't provide the tie-breaking answer they were looking for.

It's true, though. I've never felt like a belonged to a town or city until I had a library card. It seems outdated, I know, but libraries are amazing! You can borrow books - paper or electronic - for free. TV shows and movies are available on DVD - not everything can be on Netflix. And they offer a variety of other community services, too. See? Amazing!

So in honor of hitting the date I had originally planned to return to Chicago, I drove myself over to my local library and registered for a card.

Stripes!

Apparently they've come a long way from the laminated, colored paper I had last had at my last library! 

I wandered about, scanned the books and pulled a few off the shelves that I'd read previously. I ended at an astrology book I'd enjoyed as a teenager. Opening it to the date of my birthday, I read the following:

"Ordinary life does not hold a great fascination for those born on this day, and they quickly become bored by the mundane. In the case of August 6 people tied to ordinary jobs or less-than-stellar family situations, there is a danger that they will retreat into a fantasy world to get their kicks. There is also a good chance that following years of deep frustration and angst they may finally decide to leave their stability behind and set out in search of new horizons. After making such drastic changes, an August 6 person may realize that he/she was never cut out for a settled life after all. Some born on this day day may feel a measure of bitterness that they didn't make the discovery sooner."

I wasn't bitter when I read this, I was floored. I couldn't decide if I needed to renew my belief in astrology or if reading this as a teenager had subliminally planted the idea in my brain to someday wander about in my car. Either way, it's quite accurate, isn't it?!

But the wandering is done for now and I continue to adjust to life back in my hometown. After all, I officially live here now. I have a library card.

Yup, I'm Still Here

Pneumonia is a pain in the... lungs. And the rib cage. And I'm exhausted.

I am feeling better than when I arrived in Chicago just over a week ago, but still no where near normal. I've had the pleasure of visiting with a few friends, but I still spend most of my time at home on the couch in front of a television or a computer. Or napping.

This Monday I'd had enough. Enough! I woke-up at a normal time, put on normal clothes, and ran around town completing a few tasks I'd had on my "Once I return to the U.S." list.

• I bought new gym shoes
• Purchased a new tooth brush
• Washed my car (She'll need a few more scrubbings to remove all the bugs we splattered during our road trip.)
• Toured the gym a few minutes from home. I'd been exercising regularly while in Vancouver and it's something I insist on continuing in Chicago.
• Utilized a gift card and enjoyed a free lunch at Chipolte.

Upon returning home I felt happy and productive.  And then I felt exhausted and slept for over two hours.

I get to see a few more friends this week, but have learned that those moments will be the highlight of my day - not only in enjoyment, but in energy expenditure. I've also realized that time on the computer job searching and updating my resume has the same affect. So my recovery and return to Chicago continues... slowly.

This week's 'Killing Time on the Couch' is brought to you by:

Science fiction-fix courtesy of BBC America's weekday line-up...

Aiding in my Midwestern re-acclimation...

 Roseanne

Summing-up my attitude for the week...

Finding a New Balance

Every city has its own character and culture. Things that seperate it from other places and remind you exactly of where you are. Today, I visited one of those places for Chicago... I went grocery shopping at Jewel.

Jewel-Osco, owned by Albertson's, is not exclusive to Chicago. However as far as grocery stores go in this city, it's the only one that's worked it's way into our local lexicon. A proper Chicagoan does not say, "I went to the Jewel today." We say, "I went to da Jewels." The store has such a long standing relationship with this city that we've gifted it our most precious of accent markers by replacing 'the' with 'da' (aka, 'da Bears') and unecessarily pluralizing the name.  All the hallmarks of a Chicago icon.

Yes, I could've gone to Whole Foods and I still have my Mariano's club card... but for a woman on a budget, da Jewels is my best option. And it's the most 'local' I've felt since returning to the area six days ago. I have to admit, it's throwing me for a loop not to be shopping at a Safeway.

While I learn to re-embrace the characteristics of my hometown, I'm also pushing to include my new interests. As if it heard my thoughts, the universe provided me with balance by confirming my volunteer spot at the Chicago Improv Festival in late April. My schedule is not final, but I'll have the opportunity to immerse myself in Chicago's improv community - something I greatly miss after returning from Vancouver. 

I keep reminding myself that this is a process and to be patient as I find my footing again. ...I've never been very patient with myself. Even a six month vacation hasn't changed that. Wish me luck.

Best Laid Plans

Just over a week ago my family arrived in Las Vegas to assist me in my drive back to Chicago. However after fifteen minutes in the lobby of my Holiday Inn, they instead drove me to a nearby hospital where I was quickly admitted and spent three days being treated for pneumonia. ...guess I was worse off than I thought.

Eventually we did end up on the road and spent five days driving back to the Chicago area. We passed through Nevada, Arizona, New Mexico, Colorado, Nebraska, Iowa, and finally Illinois.

The Open Road

Our Little Caravan

We didn't stop for much, but did run across a few interesting things on the road...

Giant Convoy of Military Equipment

...don't mess with Nebraska

So Many Wind Farms!

We stopped overnight in Kearney, Nebraska and stumbled into a festival celebrating the annual migration of 500,000 cranes through the area. We were asked constantly, "Are you here for the cranes?" Eventually I began answering that I was "Here for the pneumonia" ...my patience was short.

I spent the week of our road trip bouncing between two mental states. The majority of the time I spent struggling with the side effects of my many medications. Occasionally, however, I'd force myself back into the original purpose of my road trip - transitioning from my life in Vancouver to my return to life in Chicago. 

Overall I spent 20 consecutive days on the road, but as we finally arrived in the Windy City I felt overwhelmed and under prepared. I was back, but it was incredibly difficult to believe. I've been 'home' three days now, but I'm still confused when I don't wake-up in Vancouver each morning. I feel like I'm going through withdrawal from the life I had created for myself... it seems obvious, but I genuinely didn't expect it to be this challenging. I spend much of my time living vicariously through Facebook and looking through photos from the last six months. 

I'm still under doctors orders to 'take it easy' and 'avoid normal levels of activity' so I'm forced to spend time slowly unpacking and couch-surfing.  I'm unsure if this is helping or hindering my adjustment to life in Chicago...

Either way, I'm here to stay. If only my brain could catch-up.

Gotta Know When to Hold 'Em, Gotta Know When to Fold 'Em

It's tough knowing when to call it quits. As I crossed into my fourth state, Nevada, I had a feeling I might have to. After a visit to urgent care Tuesday evening it was confirmed: I have pneumonia. They're unsure the type, bacterial or viral, but as bacterial is most common we're starting there. (Though last night's doc and I are both leaning towards viral, since this all began after a took a spill in the rainforst.)

My road trip as I had intended it is over. Family are flying out Thursday morning to drive my car, so I may rest, and we will be heading directly back to Chicago. It should take about six days.

This is the opposite of how I envisioned this trip ending. I feel like an explorer who had to send up a flair on the last leg of the journey. It wasn't even supposed to be the hard part! But alas, mine will be the story that ends with the arrival home where someone else is driving the sled, instead of me.

Despite the ego blow, health-wise I feel miserable and these next six days can not pass fast enough. I'm counting the hours until my cavalry arrives.

BLOG NOTE: I do not anticipate updating my blog during these next days. I plan on speaking to you again from Chicago.  Thanks for your readership and curiosity in my journey. It's still going... just on hold a bit.

I May Be Dying of Dysentery

All U.S. 1980's-babies will remember playing the computer game, "The Oregon Trail." It was an educational game in which you managed resources & battled obstacles as your wagon train attempted to make it from Independence, Missouri to Oregon City, Oregon. Most kids played it in school, some had it at home, but it's stellar DOS graphics and unique methods of peril & death left our generation with a long standing joke: "You Have Died of Dysentery."

Note: I am aware that, sadly, people die of dysentery every day because of a simple lack of access to clean water. As children in a first world country, we found the method of death foreign and ancient. I mean no disrespect when I use it here as a call-back to a childhood game.

The irony of my journey was not lost me as I drove through the pacific northwest. I was literally following the beginning steps in the game...

Stocking-up on Supplies

Organizing the Other People on your Trip.

Mine are in various cities and not in the car, but still...

 Taking Stock and Mapping Travel

All these things have made me giggle like the little kid I was when I first played the game. I giggled on the inside, however, as the respiratory bug I've been battling for weeks has worsened, leaving me to feel like I may meet the iconic ending in the game.

There are many ways to die in Oregon Trail. You could be eaten by a bear, drown when your wagon attempts to cross a river, starve to death, be murdered by a fellow wagon train member during an argument. The one that our generation remembers most, however, is dysentery. It was the most common way to die - no reliable access to clean water. I'm sure the game's creators were trying to teach us about the importance of plumbing systems and the fragile nature of the human body. But as kids, all we knew was that dying of dysentery meant you were dying from something that involved diarrhea. To ten year olds that's hilarious.

Luckily, my issue just involves coughing, sneezing, decreased lung capacity, and general cold / respiratory nastiness. It does, however, make it challenging to drive hundreds of miles when you're taking cold medication and antibiotics. I won't go into the nastier details - we all know what this feels like. Due to my suppressed immune system it means I experience it much longer than most. So far it's going on five weeks.

I'm now in San Francisco being taken care of by my sister's sister-in-law, Maria. Instead of the two of us hitting the town Friday night, she brought me Kleenex, crackers, and soup. She has allowed me to be super-disgusting on her couch and I am eternally grateful.

For the first time in five weeks, I feel like there could be hope to getting better. Maybe that's a lesson they should have included in the original game. ...So many things in life can be fixed by a family member.

...or by a Tardis

Next Up: Multi-day drive to Las Vegas. Wish me luck!

Portland, Oregon

They Stole This From Austin, TX

 Downtown Coffee Shop - They made coffee & tea while playing music on vinyl. 

So much Portland!

World Famous Voodoo Donuts

Underground Portland Tour
My walking tour that afternoon highlighted the more insidious & bizarre parts of Portland's history, which I always find most interesting in any city I visit. We toured half the downtown area, eventually ending in the 'Shanghai Tunnels.' So here's what I learned: The tunnels below the city were not built or used for kidnapping and smuggling sailors to ships waiting in the harbor. This act, known as 'crimping' (I giggled, too) was completely legal and supported by both the population and the local police force. While their spending was an important part of the economy, these ship crews were also considered 'undesirables.' (Except for the captains, they held a different standing.) So after a few days stay in port, local men made deals with ship captains to wrangle and return these ship crews to boats - any boats. The Captains would pay for 20 /21 men and then would leave port before they could abandon the ship. While morally ambiguous, it was completely legal.

The 'Shanghai Tunnels' were originally built to control flood waters each spring and as water cisterns. As the waters rose and the river flooded, the wells or pits would collect and store the water. In the event of a fire, the building's owners, occupants, and fire crews would use that water to put out the blaze. It wasn't until later that the tunnels were used for prostitution and opium dens. For safety purposes they were eventually sealed off - but that wasn't until a few decades ago.

The 'Shanghai Tunnels' are an important and interesting part of the city's history, but no where near as salacious as you may have heard.

Say Cheese!
Just an hour and a half drive west of Portland - out to Hwy 101 - is the town of Tillamook and their famous cheese factory. You may feel this an odd thing to tour, but I disagree. Not only is 'Tour a Cheese Factory' an awesomely quirky road trip activity, but as someone who grew up just a few minutes shy of Wisconsin, it felt like a necessity.

I was worried I'd walk in and be the only person there. After all, it was a Wednesday at 11:30am. But nope, plenty of weird people out there like me AND Tillamook has highly investing in their draw as a roadside attraction.

Still Milk...

MAGIC! Cheese!

 Smaller Cheese!

Exhibit Area with More Information Than I Could Absorb

Ad #1 - Not Sure This is Science

Ad #2 - If This Were True, I Wouldn't Be Battling the Plague Right Now

The most popular part of the tour was the cafe. Oh no, it's not a little stand. It was a specially built addition to the building that offers salads, burgers, and my favorite, an entire menu of grilled cheese sandwiches. 

A Classic with Tots

The cafe also hosts a VERY large ice cream bar with home made waffle cones, and giant sundaes that give Ben & Jerry's a run for their money. After my lunch I wanted to go small...

This Is a Junior Cone!

It was also some of the best ice cream I've ever had.

Whether or not you have an interest in dairy farming or quirky roadside activities, Tillamook is a great stop on your trip. If you need some convincing, most of the drive out goes through Tillamook State Forest with multiple trail heads and picturesque mountains with pine trees. A beautiful drive for a very tasty treat.

Next Stop: San Francisco, CA for a weekend of fun with family!