home sweet house

By Todd Stadler · Wednesday, July 11, 2001 5:59pm

So I'm back in Portland now.

Beeman picked me up at the airport and drove me to my house. It all went so smoothly, from my luggage waiting for me at baggage claim when I got there, to Beeman driving right up to the curb seconds after I walked outside of the airport.

On the drive home, he caught me up on the PDX tip since I'd been gone, but not much had happened. He's going to be out of town this weekend, making for four weekends in a row that we won't be in the same city. With most friends, this would make me suspicious that they don't like me. But Beeman has expressly told me of his distaste for me, so there is no suspicion.

It's rather surreal being back in Portland. I suppose I live here, but it doesn't feel like it. While giving directions to Beeman to get to my house, I felt like I was reading a book about my life that told me where I lived. I hadn't been in that house in what seemed like a very long time.

It doesn't help that Julia helped pack my bags, and as such, my things are more neatly folded and orderly than they were when I left for Berkeley. I mean, it makes it look like I'm visiting Portland.

It's also not a Portland I'm too familiar with. I have no job. That's certainly exciting, and I couldn't think of a better time to not have a job than summer in a nice city like Portland. Reading Trout Fishing in America helps too, as would reading any good book in which people don't seem concerned so much about careers as doing things that are interesting.

But still. I'm having enough trouble readjusting to my own computer. This isn't the keyboard I've been typing on for the past memory span. And there's no trackpad, just a regular mouse.

And there's no girlfriend around, dangit.

It's odd feeling out of place at home.