Days 147-151: With peace on earth and good will toward men.

Our holiday plans kind of fell apart thanks to the weather here which looks a little bit like this...

Jessica was supposed to come in from Chicago on Monday afternoon, but the snow kept on coming and coming and she got re-routed to Phoenix and then flown back to Chicago and wasn't able to get another flight to Portland until 9pm Christmas Day which kind of defeats the whole purpose.  JZ was able to get in but there is no way we'd be able to get down to Corvallis for celebrations with his family which was our original plan, so we surrendered to the universe, which has clearly won this round and called it all off.  Jess'll be spending Christmas in Chicago, JZ will enjoy his family, and John and I will be gathering other orphans of the storm at our place tomorrow.  Other folks who weren't able to make their flights out of town and are now at loose ends.  Should be fun, but we were really looking forward to having Jess here and spending the holiday with JZ and his awesome family.  We made this plan in the beer garden at Moody's on one of my last nights in Chicago, and to have it fall through after months of anticipation is making me sad.  Boo. 

However, I think we'll still have a good time.  We hiked through the snow down to the Safeway yesterday with backpacks to lay in supplies, and then made another expedition this morning, this time with a very cabin-fevered dog who needed to run off accumulated ya ya, to pick up the pies that John had ordered weeks ago.  Folks were out and about, digging out cars and tromping about on errands just like us, and we met several of our neighbors, everyone eager to stop and chat, to marvel about the white world we find ourselves in.  Punk romped and snorfled through snow drifts.  

Since then we've been cozied up in the house, making green bean casserole and sugar cookies, listening to carols and watching it go from snow to rain.  The neighborhood kids run back and forth down the streets and people zip by on their cross country skis.  The now tired dog snores and I miss the people I love, with one notable exception.  The guy sitting next to me.  And despite the craziness of the last few days, we're happy and warm and safe.  And lucky.  Very lucky.

Days 97-146: Stuff, more stuff, and also stuff. Did I mention stuff? Because, dude. STUFF.

Yeah.  We're a little busy.  I am a sub-par blogger.

Aw.  Don't pout sad punkin.

The jobby job came through, and it is exactly what I was hoping for.  I am Office Manager for a veterinary practice and I've been working all nutty since early November.  It's stressful trying to absorb so much in so little time, but I am absolutely loving it.  Puppies, people. Near constant stream of puppies.  Oh, dear lord.

We've had loads of visitors, first the lovely Bob and Tasha from Chicago, in town for the Lovecraft Film Festival in early Rocktober.  There was hilarity, good eating, including awesome doughnuts from Voodoo (Doughnuts with Tang on 'em!  I heart Tang.) and some serious waterfall appreciation in the Columbia Gorge.  It was lovely to see friends from home.

Ms. Katie Mae dropped in for the weekend in November, which included more hilarity, more good eating, and a really beautiful hike in Forest Park on the west side of Portland.

JZ was in town to celebrate his mom's birthday and we got to grab dinner before he left, which made me a happy camper.  We spent a very happy Turkey Day with John's Aunt Jackie and Uncle Marty and cousins and their kids down in Junction City.  Hilarity, very good eating and Scrabble.  And finally, friends Chuck and D (the trip to their wedding in summer '07 was what sold me on the Pacific Northwest and started this whole crazy move idea) came down from Seattle last weekend, and again the requisite hilarity and good eating, and then they ended up staying longer than expected when the weather turned.  And, oh did it turn.

Now, I know that to the Chicago eye that looks like nothing, and when we were planning the move we scoffed at the pathetic idea of what we assumed was the puny winter Oregon would throw at us, but let me tell you something people.  We were wrong.  We were so very wrong.  When winter comes to Oregon, it means ice.  A lot of it.  And getting anywhere when that happens in near impossible.  Because of the hills.  And the very small number of snow removal trucks.  Can't drive anywhere.  Which means that getting staff to and from work has been tricky, but we're limping along.  Sooooo, Chuck and D couldn't leave, because they didn't have tire chains, and chains were being required on I-5.  So we hunkered down and John made lasagna and football was watched and it was nice.  Except for the part where I had to go to work.  Booo!  Stupid public transit up and running!  Why can't YOU shut down like everybody else?

But the biggest thing to happen this year, the election.  

We watched the returns come in at our local flamingly liberal coffee house and it was a wonderful experience being in the midst of a crowd who were all as ecstatic as we were when Keith Olbermann made the call.  In the over 100 days we've been gone from the Big Windy Shoulders, I wasn't truly homesick until that moment.  I wanted so much to be there, not in Grant Park, specifically, but just there.  To celebrate this great moment in our country's history with the friends I love.  The tears pouring down Jesse Jackson's face will be the moment I will never forget.

I got up the next morning very early for my first day of training on the job, and I took the dog for a walk while it was still dark, a light misty rain coming down, and I felt so much joy, so much certainty, so much hope for the things to come, and just....so much.  I felt so much.  Such a full heart.

But then there was the sadness of Proposition 8.  While we were still living in Chicago, John and I watched a documentary called For The Bible Tells Me So, the story of several gay people who come from religious backgrounds and how they and their families have struggled to reconcile faith and sexuality.  It's a wonderful film, very honest.  It includes footage of Bishop Gene Robinson's ordination, the first openly gay person to be ordained as Bishop in the Episcopal Church, an event which was incredibly divisive in that institution.  I am not a religious person.  I do not believe in a personal god.  But that footage moved me so deeply because it was bursting with joy and happiness and triumph, and I just don't understand.  Don't they know?  Don't they get that this is the fruit of inclusion?  All this joy, all this wonder, everything we all felt on that Tuesday night watching Barack Obama ascend to the Presidency.  Exclusion is so bitter and small and pinched.  When you embrace, when you throw open your arms and you say yes, when you look beyond difference to a common humanity, and work for a common good, look what happens.  Look what we can do.