O, to be a young adult in Portland, Oregon!
To clock in and out of a restaurant job and bike over the Broadway bridge at night, home to a house full of people who are playing a game or watching a movie or having a fake argument about something dumb. To host ugly sweater parties where people dance in the living room until 2am to a carefully crafted playlist and the morning-after cleanup produces stacks upon stacks of solo cups and paper bags full of empty cans. To go Hanukkah caroling, because it’s funny. To have a local bar where the bartenders give you the neighbor discount. Weekly gatherings to watch Twin Peaks. An embarrassing number of filled punch cards to the local frozen yogurt place, where the house-made hot fudge is incredible and the girlfriends share their latest dating tragicomedy. Whimsical lectures about history where friends heckle and shout from the couch. Dungeons & Dragons sessions that turn into a 30-minute debate about whether the laws of physics apply to a magical table. Russian Easter gatherings where they wear babushkas, paint eggs, and make pierogies. The girl’s heart is full, and her schedule is packed. She probably needs to pump up her bike tires.
Many board the ship of friends during this time, but as will happen, some must depart for other seas, and they say farewell. But they are not forgotten; they have been quintessential in getting this boat on course. Those who remain - and there are many - will occasionally play cards in a room below deck, remembering the days of taping a 40oz of malt liquor to the girl’s hand every birthday, or the Halloween she went as Weird Al(i), or that party where someone apparently pooped in a bathtub…