Awake

Two Weeks of Vacation Comes to an End

It is Sunday afternoon. The dryer is tumbling. The washer is cycling. The birds are tweeting. And I am blowing an inordinate amount of mucous out of my sinus cavity. And thus my vacation draws to a close.

But how it began was that I decided rather last minute that two weeks off of school would do little good to me if I did not also take two weeks off of work as well to do as I please. A good decision it was indeed.

The first few days I spent around Portland. My parents were out of town on an Alaskan cruise with my Grandpa and his brother, my great Uncle Glen. My friend Alex is in town for the summer and she stayed at my parents' house housesitting until this past Wednesday. We hung out a bit -- went out to eat a few times and saw Superman return. I saw the house on the lake too and enjoyed both movies thoroughly.

On Tuesday I got my teeth cleaned and on Wednesday I went to see the career advisor at my school to just get a feel for the job landscape. Though I still have 15 months to go, I need to always keep a strategic goal in my head in order to get through the day-to-day. I found one particularly intriguing independent contractor opportunity at a ranch in north eastern Oregon, but even more intriguing (and realistic) is a opportunity in the town where I was born: Ashland, Oregon. But that opportunity wasn't to be found in the job book. This was all in the family. Hang on a moment while I explain...

Immediately after flipping through job listings at school, I returned home and packed for the journey south. I was headed to Talent, Oregon, just 4 miles away from Ashland, where my cousin Drew and his wife Kelly live. Drew wanted some programming help and I wanted an excuse to visit two of my favorite people. I was planning on staying only through Friday, but after one day realized that I would much rather extend my visit through the weekend. And so I did. Drew and Kelly recently moved their businesses to a prime location in downtown Ashland. Drew owns a property management company and Kelly, a salon. In their new building, Drew is above stairs and Kelly below.

For three days I sat across from Drew with my laptop busily programming and taking in the unique hustle and bustle of a small business in a small town. Let me tell you, it was immensely refreshing. Below us was Kelly's salon, and therein a completely different sort of energy: the sing-song receptionist, the dramatic chit-chat at the manicure desks, the curtained oases of the pedicure and facial rooms. It would be a smart move. A fun move. An adventerous move. Kelly would add massage to her menu of services and I could start my business in a prime location with reception and scheduling support not too mention with people that I enjoy and trust. I would also bring my web expertise to both Kelly's and Drew's business. And Drew could help me find a place to live.

The interesting thing is that that Ashland was where my Dad's first job was. He worked for the planning department. When he took a job in Portland when I was two years old, they gave him a huge burl clock with a newspaper clipping about his departure. Dad says when and if I move to Ashland, I can hang the burl clock in my space as a converation piece. He wonders how long it will take for long-time Ashland residents to realize that I am Dale Himes' daughter. And that I am also Jason Lamb's cousin (Drew's brother), whose wife currently works in the same planning department where my dad held his first job out of college. I think that would make for quite an induction into a small town culture, don't you think?

As nice as it was in Ashland/Talent, I finally did drag myself up the interstate back to Portland only to drive to Seattle the next day for 4th of July festivities. That Monday, we (Dad, Mom, Grandpa, Seth, April, Adalie, Kylia, Zoie, Brant, Jackie, Pat, and Kris) hung out at Lake Union and watched the Mariners loose miserably at Safeco field. If that field wasn't such an enjoyable place to be, it would have been miserable, but even though they lost pathetically, we had a good time. The next day, we made our 2nd annual visit to the Lake Union Wooden Boat Festival, which was walking distance from our hotel as well as Brant and Jackie's apartment. Adalie and Kylia made little boats and despite sunburns, we had a good time that afternoon. That night, we watched the Lake Union fireworks on Brant and Jackie's porch and later enjoyed taking in the local civil disobedience and spectacular traffic jam on Dexter Avenue. Thank goodness we could walk back to our hotel and that Grandpa's feet could take it!

On Wednesday, I milked every minute of my stay at the hotel and checked out at noon to head down to Lacey to stay with Seth and April and get some quality time with all my nieces. April and the girls and I had a great time bonding. Seth and I managed to get the beginnings of a story out for a future project which I am going to be working up in the coming months.

But on Friday I woke up with a funny feeling in my throat and a case of the sneezes. I left that afternoon because I needed to get back and try and get a swim test before my rowing class on Saturday. That was when a pathetic sequence of events began to unravel. First, I couldn't find the bottom half of my swim suit, so I had to go over to Mom's to borrow hers. Then I tried to print out the form I needed, and at that moment my wireless printing network decided to get sassy with me and not function. So I had to plug it in. (Oh the horror, I know.) Then after all that I was feeling light headed because of my cold, so I decided to eat. Then I had to wait an hour. (You know, because I'd be swimming.) So then it was open swim time at the rec center so I headed over. And you know what happened? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. They said that it was against their policy to administer a swim test. The rec district that has practically an absolute monopoly on all the lifeguards within a 10 mile radius won't give a swim test at an aquatic center where their sole purpose is to watch people swim. I was livid. But I didn't chew them out. I just stared incredulously into the manager's eyes and stormed back to my car where I exploded in a spectactular array of tears and by-words.

But I surrendered. Call it what you will but my head was full of mucous and I was fatigued by the absurdity of it all. I canceled my registration and I'll now have my Saturday mornings free to sleep in. It's just as well. I was feeling wary of my schedule anyway.

So now it's Sunday afternoon. The Sudafed has kicked in. I've got to check my class schedule and get my books together for a long first week of a new term and a five-night-a-week course load. It'll go fast. There's no other way it could go.