Beaver state of mind #SundayStories

Dear Oregon,

I think we are going to be ok together. I’m feeling optimistic.

It’s probably because the sun is back.

Or the fact that I realized I’ve had nearly two full weeks of social activities, including:

Line dancing with Henry, a friend from college who was passing through.

Karaoke with coworkers and friends old and new.

Games with long-time friends from my Savannah days.

A huge wine-tasting event I was able to attend for free with another coworker.

Line dancing at a new-to-me club in Salem: Silver Spur.

About that club …

It was packed with folks aged 25-35.

Hence, not folks like me. 😂

I enjoyed the people-watching.

But then this happened:

I have thoughts.

• This is LINE DANCING, not a sporting event. No need for the national anthem. (I would argue that we don’t even need it at sporting events.)
• This is HOURS into the night. Why play it THEN?
• Is this girl signing the anthem? If so, is that RIGHT? It looks made up. Like this lady. (Based on this, I think she’s full of it.)

In addition to the fascinating fauna people, the flora is pretty great too.

Double-flowering plum trees are everywhere.

They are lovely until a stiff wind comes by.

In general, I’m happy. Everything is going to be ok.

Thanks for being patient with me.

Your new friend,
Beth

Southern comfort #SundayStories

Dear Fellow Southerners:

I don’t think we know just how weird we are until we get around people who “ain’t from around here.”

Y’all* know I was just in Savannah. While there, I had to load up on things I can’t get in Oregon.

1. Collard greens. When I find them in Oregon, the leaves are small and anemic. I’m used to ones the size of tobacco leaves.
2. Barbecue sauce. Vinegar-based. Don’t give me any of that sweet Kansas City crap.
3. Crab Shack hot sauce and seasoning. They also have a mustard-based barbecue sauce that’s pretty good.
4. Applewood-smoked bacon. There is no comparison to meat from the Ogeechee Meat Market.
5. Pimento cheese-flavored popcorn. Yes, please.
6. Fresh okra. I asked for it at Roth’s the other day, and you would have thought I asked for a package of human fingers.
7. Coffee from Dunkin’ Donuts. That is not a Southern thing, but there’s no runnin’ on Dunkin’ in the PNW. Probably because of Starbucks. I don’t want DD ground coffee. I can get that. I want the in-store brewed coffee. So I froze a Box o’ Joe and packed it.

More than half of my 44-pound suitcase (!) filled with groceries.

One morning this week, I woke up singing “BFE” by Kane Brown. That was the morning I decided to have fried okra for breakfast. That’s right: cut, bathed in egg, coated in a mix of seasonings, flour and corn meal. For breakfast. I made it slightly healthier by popping it in the air fryer.

And so I’m singing the song, dredging this okra in breading, and I realized this:

You can take the girl out of the South, but you can’t take the South out of the girl.

I smiled, and kept on going.

My okra was amazing.

Look at it!

Clearly, I ain’t from around here.

And that’s ok. It makes me appreciate my background even more.

All y’all have a good day, ya hear!

Your Redneck Friend,
Beth (the devil who went down to Georgia 😂)

*Legit contraction not limited to the South anymore.

Lost in Space #SundayStories #SaintMaybe

Dear St. Anthony,

I’d love your help in finding the parking access card, building fob and door key for my Airbnb.

Veronica the Cleaner took a pic of the bundle last Sunday to show that the guest returned it.

But when Amit checked in Friday, it was nowhere to be found.

There were no guests in between.

Unless I hosted ghosts. Or aliens.

I try to offer a five-star experience, so I set to work to try to fix the issue, even though I was in Savannah trying to spend some time with Gideon on his spring break.

The fob was the immediate concern. Well, the property manager only works Monday-Friday, and she was off Friday. NO ONE ELSE can distribute them. Fob is a no-go until Monday.

I still needed to get a new access card and key and to change the code on the lock.

I have friends in Atlanta, but that’s a big ask.

As I was flying through Atlanta on my way back to Portland, I decided to see if I could extend my layover.

The noon flight was sold out. Standby didn’t look promising. The 3 p.m. would get me there at 4, but my PDX flight left at 7.

Three hours to get out of the airport, run these errands, and get back through security?

My blood pressure is skyrocketing just thinking about it.

ANXIETY INTERLUDE.

I could either sit in the airport fretting for hours or get on the road.

I canceled my SAV-ATL flight and rented a car.

I have two sayings:

Experience is what you get when you don’t get what you want.

Bad decisions make good stories.

I got quite an experience and a story.

All was well until I entered Atlanta’s orbit. I am from Atlanta. I know traffic.

We always say, “Atlanta is an hour away from Atlanta.”

This was worse than almost anything I had ever seen. Add one hour to the journey.

Peachtree Street was a hot mess.

I mean … WTF?!? Seventeen minutes to drive 2.6 miles.

I got to the condo, grabbed the extra set of keys, and found a hardware store. That was the easy part. PASS!

Next I tried to change the code on the door lock. Somehow, I have the wrong programming code saved in my phone and no tools to take off the lock to get at the info inside. FAIL.

I went to the parking garage to get a replacement access card. The person who can do this works Monday-Friday. NO ONE ELSE can distribute them. Of course. FAIL.

So if you are keeping track, you can tell that I got virtually nothing accomplished. I wasted time, money and energy.

I am a glass-is-half-full person, so let’s look on the bright side:

• I earned Skymiles and Expedia OneKeyCash on the car rental. Clearly that’s better than keeping my actual money. 🙄
• I got to test drive a Subaru Forester. It’s THE car for folks in the Pacific Northwest. I’m trendy!
• I got to catch up with my friend Jennifer on a two-hour call. Two hours! Y’all know that’s huge for me.
• I met Amit, who is lovely, and now has a brand-new door key. Hope he gives me a good review. I did go the extra mile. 😉
• I got my heart pumping thanks to road rage. Can we call it a Traffic Tantrum? (My agita!)
• I really got to SEE Peachtree Street. Never paid much attention to most of the buildings before.
• And also Peachtree Center Avenue, onto which I detoured.

Then I had to race to the airport.

It was … not a fun trip. And not productive. But at least I tried.

Tony (if I may be so bold), it would be great if you could somehow make the wayward items turn up during Amit’s stay.

Speak to the aliens, please. Have them beam them back down.

Thank you!

Your pal,
Beth

How bizarre, how bizarre* #SundayStories #NotEasterrelated

Hi everyone!

It’s been a while. I don’t have an excuse beyond rain, work and lethargy.

I went out this week with a coworker who grew up Mormon. As a student at BYU, she was asked by a boy, “What’s your talent?”

Like most people would be, she was astounded.

But that religion is about getting, having and keeping a man, so …

That phrase made me think: What’s my talent?

I can write — when inspired (and not hampered by rain, work and lethargy).

I can cook complicated dishes. Homemade ravioli? NBD.

I can tie a cherry stem in my mouth with my tongue. (Party trick FTW!)

I can follow directions. (Please put me as your No. 2 for “The Amazing Race.” I will not disappoint.)

I can meet a deadline like no one else.

I am organized as f—-.

I am an excellent travel agent and companion.

I’m the “yes, and?” friend — up for any adventure.

I can even do these adventures on my own.

For example, I needed to kill time in Portland before I headed to the airport. I found the Peculiarium.

Seemingly right up my alley.

And it was, except the gift shop was larger than the main attraction.

Here are some photos of the highlights so you don’t have to spend time and $10 when you are in Portland.

True crime dollhouse

A new friend

Oh nooooo! Things have gone horribly wrong for me!

Anyway.

What was scarier was this house next door:

This doesn’t seem safe.

Maybe there are talented contractors out there who can help this old house.

I’m not interested in that adventure. I can be handy if necessary, but that needs more help than I can provide.

What’s your talent?

Tell me everything.

Beth

*OMC — blast from the past.

A show that really takes the biscuit* #SundayStories

Dear British Folks:

You know how I love your TV shows. I can’t get over the full frontal on regular TV.

Even your reality shows are so different from ours in America. They are just so civilized. I mean, just look at the “Great British Bake Off.” The competition is with THEMSELVES. “Oh this tart. It’s just not my day” and the like.

But then there is “Four in a Bed.” I saw a side of you people that shocked me to my core.

(Interruption for people who aren’t familiar with the show: Four innkeepers take turns staying at each other’s places then rate them on facilities, breakfast, host attitude, etc. They also pay what they think the stay was worth. There’s a winner at the end.)

In Season 14, Episode 1, Mandi didn’t like that Natalie, who wears the pants in her relationship with Mark (contestants noted this repeatedly), deducted some points for cleanliness because there was a dust layer on the nightstand.

Well. That meant WAR.

When it came time for the stay at Mark and Natalie’s, this lady stood on the nightstand to find cobwebs on top of the four-poster bed. She was on her hands and knees in the bathroom to look close enough to find wee stains in the toilet grout. She deducted points for two hairs on the carpet. A six for cleanliness was a low blow, considering she only gave a two to “Sleeperdorm” that actually had a wee-stained mattress and suspicious drips down the wall.

I’ve never seen a more vicious show in your country.

And I watch plenty of British TV.

Anyway, thanks for making me feel better about our miserable Housewives and whatnot.

Tra!
Beth

*Love me some slang.

In the Navy* #SundayStories

Dear RDC Jarmon:

Thank you for leading my son. Dominic clearly looks up to you and credits you with helping him get through Navy basic training.

I guess I should blame you for my tears.

😉

To be fair, they were happy tears. And they were at an appropriate time: Pass-In-Review on Thursday.

I was so proud of Dominic. He was proud of himself too.

Dominic marches with his division.

See?! Proud.

What’s funny is that people have asked me if we are a Navy family — if that’s why Dominic enlisted.

“No, not really,” I’d say. Both of my fathers did a stint in the Army. Eddie’s sister too. My nephew was in the Marines. I have good friends who were in the Navy, but no family.

Then my mom sent this photo:

I was wrong. That’s my grandfather!

So Dominic comes by it honestly.

Now he’s in Coronado, California, for pre-BUD/S.

Yeah, Dominic wants to be a SEAL.

If anyone can do it, he can. He has the determination (read: stubbornness). When Dominic wants something, he will not rest until he gets it. (Trust me: I’m his mother. I’ve seen it.)

And when he does become a SEAL, we will have you to thank for helping him on his journey.

Thanks again,
Beth, a proud mama

*A classic.

Dance the night* #SundayStories

Dear New Friend Sarah,

Thanks for inviting me to Boots & Bottles last night.

Dry January was easy until the last week. It was nice to hang out with you and Mindy, and finally enjoy a glass of wine.

I had fun, but I will say that it felt very much like a high-school dance when I arrived.

But unlike a high-school dance, people there were ready to hit the dance floor immediately.

I feel like I got some cardio in, so that’s good.

I had no idea when I moved here that line dancing was SO POPULAR. I would never have guessed. I mean … in OREGON!

Anyway, thanks again, and I’ll see you next weekend for Diva Drag Brunch.

Your friend,
Beth

*Dua Lipa. Love her.

I’ve got a perfect puzzle for you* #SundayStories

Dear Friends and Family,

Remember that promise I made to get out more? Well, sometimes that leads to questionable decisions. Like last night’s.

My neighbor Amy and I went to MicroMania in Salem.

I’m going to pause here to let you follow that link.

Yeah.

It seemed like a great idea, then I had regrets. So many regrets before the show started.

The merch made me cringe.

One of the biggest regrets was not reading the show poster correctly.

It CLEARLY says doors open at 7. But Amy and I got it in our heads that the show STARTED at 7. So we got there there 2.5 hours early.

As a result, we got second-row seats. But we also had to kill time. As I’m doing Dry January, drinking wasn’t it.

So we played homemade Bingo.

And listened to BAD jokes by the emcee.

What’s the difference between a dwarf and a midget?
Very little.

Terrible.

I seriously contemplated leaving. I was afraid I was participating in one of those awful shows from the late 19th century.

But then the show started. The performers were spectacular. In on and pushing the joke.

I mean, they came out to a medley of songs such as “It’s a Small World” and “Follow the Yellow Brick Road.”

And the crowd was loving it. Not in a mean, weird way.

I also did the math and realized how much the performers were potentially banking. It’s not a small amount. (Sorry. I got caught up.)

The ring was set up where the line dancing happens.

The man in front of us was LOSING HIS MIND with joy. He recorded every moment of every match.

This wrestler’s stage name is 25 Cent.

There also was a significant amount of audience interaction.

It had so many moments you would expect wrestling matches to have.

I know you know what will happen next.

A guy behind me shouted “Bring out the tables!”

So, you know, standard wrestling.

It turned out to be a fun night. Not sure I would go again, though. I need to find a new hobby to keep me occupied.

Don’t judge me.

With a little love from Oregon,
Beth

*Yes, they played that song too.

Let it snow! #SundayStories #SnowDay

Dear Friends and Family,

I experienced my first snow in Oregon. It snowed all day yesterday. As the temperature is not going to get above freezing for a few days, I’ll get to enjoy it for a bit.

I’m a Southern girl. This is a big deal.

I decided to walk into town to explore — something I haven’t yet done, despite having lived here for nearly six months.

The key to being comfortable in any weather is the right gear.

I have a new Columbia Sportswear waterproof jacket with the baked-potato lining and Sorel boots (bougie, I know).

My sweatshirt has a pouch for a beer. As I’m doing Dry January, this pouch served as the perfect carrier for Stumptown cold brew instead.

I was almost too warm on my journey.

Here are some scenes from my walk:

No snow plows/gritters in this place.

When I first moved here, the trains that use these tracks seemed SO LOUD to me. Now they are just part of the fabric of my life.

It’s like “It’s a Wonderful Life” out here.

I love signs and murals on the sides of buildings.

Don’t worry: This pooch wasn’t out there for long.

About half of the places were closed because of the weather or permanently because of sheer small-town economics.

This is exactly what I would expect from a gift shop in Oregon: crystals and coffee accessories.

… and Sasquatch-related things.

Sometimes it’s nice to really notice what is around you.

Home Sweet Home

Cat Weird Cat

Looking forward to experiencing all the seasons here.

I’ll report back.

Staying warm, 
Beth

Party in the USA* #SundayStories

Dear Savannah Friends,

Many of you expressed concern about my social well-being when I saw you over the holidays.

Fair.

I do need to get out more. Try to meet more non-work people.

So this week, I did two things in two different places with two different sets of people:

Line dancing in Salem and a drag show in Portland.

How is that for running the gamut?

Those of you who have known me a while know that I haunted Stetsons in Savannah for line-dancing nights back in the day.

Salem, Oregon, is apparently a hotspot for line dancing. (Who knew?)

The colleague who told me about this event did provide some additional information.

It was great! I had fun and got some exercise. People were very welcoming.

That was Thursday night. I went to Darcelle XV in Portland on Friday night.

It was not like any other drag show I’ve seen. I’m used to acrobatic, can-pass-as performers working the crowd. This show was more like a cabaret stocked with Joan Crawford/Bette Davis clones in evening gowns. To tip, you threw your money in a bowl at center stage.

It was a good evening with friends, but I probably wouldn’t go back to the regular show. There’s an “open mic”-style drag show on Tuesdays that looks more interesting.

Still, I could have had a terrible time at either or both of these places and been happy to be out.

My next big event out should be a doozy:

Stay tuned.

Love,
Beth

*Love me some Miley.