Marathon Weekend

What a weekend I had! As you know, if you're a loyal and obedient reader, my cousin Stacey was in town last weekend and that woman ran me ragged. We tromped. We ate. We shopped. We saw. It was fun and exhausting. I hope she's as exhausted as I am. If not, I'm finally admitting that she's a robot with endless energy.

isn't she purty?

She got in Friday evening and it was off to Hungry Tiger for dinner and drinks (incidentally, Hungry Tiger is one of my fave restaurants here in Portland and I'll be writing about it soon.) and to consume entirely too much food. Then karaoke (of course) where she saw how kooky and crazy the places I love to frequent (and the kooky people who go there too).

Oh, and I should also mention that we had technical difficulties. First, Stacey's portable phone charger depleted her phone battery overnight and then when we tried to charge it on her computer, it wouldn't turn on for the longest time. We thought we'd have to go get her a new phone! But it was okay, it finally charged up; it was just that depleted.

On top of that, Stace has a HMO (dundunDUUUN) and said monstrous HMO which rules the entire world does not have an office near where her boyfriend lives in Northern California and where she's spent the last few weeks. So she needed to refill her very simple and not in any way contraband prescription here in Portland.

Well, they gave her the ever-lovin' runaround. They had to transfer it. They had to call her old pharm in Los Angeles. They said they'd call her when it was ready. No wait, they think the LA office is closed on the weekend (it wasn't. we called ourselves.). Then finding a location with a pharmacy open on the weekend here was an ordeal. Yikes. It was a mess.

And, look, I am the daughter of a genuine, bona fide prescription drug addict. I am all for drug control. But her prescription? Was harmless. You can't OD on it (and you wouldn't want to). You can't sell it on the street. Something like this you should be able to get more than one month's supply at a time, especially if you're traveling. Good freaking grief.

So Saturday was a DAY. She needed to go to Ikea to get stuffs to decorate the house so we call in said prescription to a location near NE Portland (I live in SE). So after a yummy breakfast, we head north and tromp around the ever-crowded town of Ikea. By the time we were done at about 3:30 or so, they still hadn't called about her script.

And we still had to make it to the one destination we'd really wanted to see: Chocolate Fest! (which ended at 5). So we said screw it to the prescription (we'd deal with it on Sunday) and booked it to the Convention Center. I won't even begin to tell you all about Chocolate Fest because I'm writing a Portland Foodie post about it (in an attempt to apparently convince you all I only write about chocolate), but suffice to say, we arrived having not eaten any lunch and proceeded to sample all the amazing chocolate and wine we could procure in one hour.

miles of fudge

 It was delicious. It was decadent. It was devilishly gluttonous. I was a little trashed and bloated by the time we were done.

So then it was off to Thai food at my fave local Thai place in SE Portlandia where we finally got real food and I ate my body's weight in noodles. Needless to say, because of the horror I subjected my stomach to, I didn't sleep much Saturday night. Where's a stomach pump when you need one?

Sunday morning we couldn't get hold of the original pharmacy we called her script into on Saturday so we found one slightly closer and called them. The gal there seemed on top of it and said she'd get it read and call us soon.

So after bagels and coffee, we headed downtown where we tromped around and I made Stacey experience all the joy that is Powell's Books. Then we settled in at a sport's bar to eat hot wings and drink beer (which was surely a mistake considering it digestive acrobatics on Saturday) and watch the Packers slaughter the Bears (and let's be frank, I don't really care about either team, but I love a fun game).

But we still hadn't heard from the pharmacy by the game's end, so we called and lo and behold! It was ready. Though I still can't believe they didn't call. At this point, it's about 3ish (a technical term) and the pharmacy closed at 8. We had plenty of time.

Anyway, we could've headed over to the pharmacy right then, but Stace also wanted to watch the Steelers Jets game. So we hopped on the MAX and found another bar to watch the game closer to home (which was the most boring football game of my life even thought the Jets perked up in the second half. and I HATE a boring game. dude, why watch then?). The game didn't end until almost 7 (and of course we were there to the bitter end) and we immediately hopped in the car to hustle over to the pharmacy.

We got there about 7:30 and took a million and three years to find an open door and the pharmacy. I finally just parked it and Stace got out and found it just in time. AND (hallefuckinglujah!) the pharmy took pity and gave her a 3 month supply. Thank the lard for nice people.

By the time we got home, I was so utterly beat from the past two days. I couldn't even eat dinner. We watched a movie and snacked on crackers and cookies until we both passed out.

Sunday morning we awoke early and got our no longer skinny asses to Voodoo, because you absolutely cannot visit Portland for the first time and not go to Voodoo. I'm pretty sure it's a law. They check your breath and BMI at the Oregon-California border to make sure. Stace had the Maple Bacon Bar (a personal fave) which rocked her world.

Then I hugged my older cuz, helped her load her car, and sent her on her way. I assume drove safely because she texted me on Tuesday.

I'm sure, like me, she won't be eating any more chocolate for a week (though she DID buy more than me at Chocolate Fest). And it's a good thing I had leftovers from our dinners because I spent my whole week's food budget in three days.

And I don't have any photos of me or the two of use because those are all on Stacey's point and shoot and, knowing my cousin as I do, I'll probably never see them. 

What a weekend. I should get a medal like they give marathoners. A prize just for finishing.

Photo of the Day: Stacey

This is my lovely cousin Stacey who was in town this past weekend. Yes, she's a natural blond. No, she didn't know I was taking this shot. No, I don't know where she got that adorable scarf.

I will have to write another post about our shenanigans. Woman ran me ragged.

the eldest child

My older cousin Stacey is coming to visit this weekend and I am so stoked! I haven't seen this lady in forever and I just know we're going to have a blast.

I haven't talked about Stace much, mostly because the woman is so busy I don't remember the last time I saw her. And that's back when I lived in California.

But it's really about time I did. My two cousins and I are like sisters and I love them like sisters. We certainly have a sisterly dynamic and we've each lived with one of the others at some point in our childhoods. But more than that, our moms are sisters and each had only children and wanted the three of us to be close.

Stacey is definitely the eldest sister. She's 5 years older than me and the story goes that she was there the day my parents picked me up from social services and she didn't understand why I wouldn't play with her (I was 3 months old). I was definitely a toy for Stace in my younger years and I ate up every minute. I worshipped her. 

Once, when I was two, we were visiting Stace and my Aunt Paula, and when it was time to leave, I apparently threw a royal fit. Cried like it was the end of the world, as two year olds do, because leaving your favorite person is akin to a world-wide disaster when you're two. Well, Stace went in the house and found her favorite pink doll and gave it to me. That was Pink Baby and I carried that doll everywhere until I was much too old to be carrying a doll everywhere. In fact, in later years, when I was Stacey's annoying little cousin, she threatened to take Pink Baby away in order to get me to leave her alone.

I still have it. Damn thing looks like a faded pink monkey that was left in the rain now.

I am definitely the middle child. In childhood, I vied for attention from Stacey. Lindsey is definitely the youngest and back then I hated that Stacey would baby her. There's this old reel film of us after Lindsey was just born and Stacey is fawning all over Linds and I am pouting the most spectacular of pouts. I still think if they'd only let me near the baby I wouldn't have been so jealous.

Of course, over the years, Lindsey and I got super close. We're close in age so we spent a lot of time together growing up. These days, I count Linds as one of my best friends too.

Back then, I wanted nothing more than to not be the middle child. And to be blond like them. Being adopted, I hated my brunette hair in the middle of my two blond cousins.

Isn't this the sweetest picture ever? I love my cousins

And if you have any doubt about our sisterness, you should just see ALL the matchy photos we had to take every Easter and Christmas. Oh yeah.  Poor Stacey. Being the oldest, she bore the brunt of the uncoolness of it most of all.

Yes, I am the brunette

My Aunt Paula (Stacey's mom) had cancer for the whole of my youth and during a chunk of that time, Stacey lived with us. By that time, Stacey was my very cool older cousin and I was the annoying little sister. When she played house with her friends, she made me be the dog. The dog! Which, of course, I was happy to be just to be able to play with her and her friends.

Then, of course, I'd retaliate with Lindsey and when we played, I'd make her be the boy. We both still bear the scars of that. THANKS, Stacey.

Of course, by the time adulthood rolled around, I'd pretty much grown out of my big sister worship, but I hung on probably a little too long than I should have. Stacey was so pretty. Stacey was so cool. Stacey had all the best clothes.

Stacey's mom passed when she was 12 (miss my Aunt Paula so much!) and left her a decent inheritance to get her through college, etc. But in my teen years, if Stacey was visiting, that meant shopping! Linds and I both had pretty meager households so those shopping trips were heaven to us and I think Stace liked spoiling her little cousins.

Even though I'd grown out of my childhood worship of Stacey, she still gave me a lot of my first experiences with the world and instilled in me my love of travel. We lived together when I was 21 in Hollywood and she was my introduction to the big city. Most of my friends at that time were her friends and they all treated me like a cool little sister.

That time wasn't perfect. She and I bickered like the sisters we'd forgotten we were. But we both learned a lot about each other. She and I are totally different in a lot of ways. And sometimes it did get old sometimes when Stace would get drunk and grab my cheeks and talk to me like I was 5 again. Yeah, that was fun.

Stacey took me on my first trip to New York, thus beginning my love of New York, and encouraging my attempts to move there after fashion school (that didn't happen as I decided to stay in Los Angeles instead). She got my my first gig in television and supported me completely when I decided to go back to school, which meant moving to a small college town.

She also took me on my first trip out of the country (not counting Mexico) to Costa Rica. She was going with her boyfriend and he landed a production gig and wasn't going to be able to stay the whole 2 weeks. So who got to go so Stacey had someone to cavort around with? Me!

Remind me to tell you about the time I was bucked off a horse in Costa Rica

Stace pushed me to live abroad (she lived in Spain when she was in her early twenties) which was one of the single-most transformative experiences of my life. I grew so much in that time. And when I struggled abroad with homesickness or language barriers or tough professors, she was there to understand.

These days, the three of us live very busy, separate lives. Linds and Stace are still in Los Angeles and I couldn't feel further away from that world. Stacey is notoriously harder to get a hold of than Carmen San Diego. But she'll always make time when it's important. She continues to be incredibly supportive. She lost her pug Eddie to a kind of brain cancer a couple of years back and has been a great resource for me during the whole cat cancer drama.

Stacey, Lindsey, and I will always be more than cousins and slightly less than sisters. I love each of them immensely and individually. I only wish Stacey would pack Lindsey in her suitcase and bring her along this weekend. Yes, ladies? Think that could be arranged?

Lindsey, me, and Stacey
Yeah, this was when I was dying my hair blond

Stacey will hate all these childhood pictures. That is my revenge for having to be the dog all those times.