#pdxtoams

Still unemployed. Still anxious.

I am, however, really enjoying the freedom to explore my new hometown on these relentlessly beautiful summer days. Apparently the beautiful weather is highly unusual the locals are telling me, but I’m making the most of it while I have an open schedule. I am especially grateful that the sun makes me want to be on my bike all day, riding to the opposite side of the city to check out apartments that I continually lose out on due to the 15 other people touring the place when I get there. It could be very unpleasant to schlep to the west from the outer edge of east otherwise.

One of the reminders of home that I brought with me is this gem:

I’ve been getting inspired for my market shopping and the dinners I’ve been making at home. While dining out is always a crapshoot here, the market produce is amazing and you find almost anything you want (except, for some reason, whole cavolo nero.) The caveat to this mostly pleasant activity of recipe-reading is that it’s making me miss my well-stocked larder and jars of bulk flours and dried ingredients. It will be nice to get settled and begin to re-build my cooking necessities.

Back to where we started... kind of.

At least from the standpoint that I’m a bit adrift and rootless, albeit in a new way. 

Several months ago I decided I was going to indulge in a midlife crisis, and I don’t mean buying that Mini that is STILL for sale back in the states. In theory, it was a job search. Ultimately, it was a gift of time and growth and (re-) connection.

Today, one week and one day into my new, now-immigrant life amongst the Dutch, I’m finding my American-ness more pronounced than ever. I feel my native impatience like a weight. I’m unable to relax and trust that things will work out as they are supposed to. I went to a yoga class yesterday where I was reminded that I am right where I’m supposed to be in this moment, but after that hour of being focused and present (and sweating my ass off), my anxiety about having done the right thing returned and my need to know the unknown was as strong as before. 

Enough about what’s in my head, though. As I’m reminded by friends to breathe and trust, that’s just what I have to do in this adjustment phase. (And of course, in my American way, be a little pro-active as well.)

Speaking of adjusting... my roommate is really handling it all quite well.

He’s made several friends, including the people who own the café downstairs. This morning he recognized a basset hound we met up the block a few days ago and got really frisky, showing off for the hound and his owner by scampering around the green space beside the canal. He handled his first tram experience(s) this week like a pro, although I think it helped that we were riding midday during the week and upon arriving at our first destination he was rewarded by getting to smell a baby. 

Though he was a little overstimulated and freaked out the first couple of days, he’s adapting to the routine and is following me around our 400 sq. ft. apartment less and less. I do have to say that I get a little bit of a look, and occasionally his infamous impatient snort, each time I open the apartment door to that third set of stairs on our way back from a walk. Noted. Apartment search *not* to include options above floor 2.

meeting a twin in flevopark; first tram ride; enjoying the canals in city center; plotting his campaign to become the canine mayor of javaplein

All in all, things are so far, so good. I’m sure I’ll calm down as soon as the initial shock of moving wears off, work and housing fall into place, and I procure health insurance. I took a tumble on my loaner bike earlier this week (huge ego-bruise, in addition to the multiple physical ones). About six people were immediately off of their bikes and scooters to rescue me. One lady seemed especially concerned, which was super-sweet. My lingering regret – aside from having fallen in the first place – was not having asked her who her hairdresser was. She had cool hair and I need to find a hair-apist, stat. 

growing hollyhock obsession

The next post will be a hello. I promise.

I started to get a little – okay, a lot – sentimental and wrote a draft post recapping my final week in Portland, attempting to capture all of the emotions and stresses (and poor food choices). But I’m going to skip self-indulgent reflection in favor of letting images do the work. 

I’m going to miss each and every one of you (who are likely not even reading this), but I’m off to make all kinds of cringe-worthy mistakes in a new place. And I already have a pretty good head start (but more to come on that).

The wrap up on the Portland exit for those interested: the house got emptied thanks to a complete village effort, Mary’s new apartment, Mattie’s new beach house, especially Jen and Elizabeth; a really great renter was secured at the 11th hour; the MINI is still for sale – let me know if you know of an interested buyer; and I have amazing friends and neighbors. (This last piece of information is old news, but I wanted to document it for the sake of posterity.)

finn + bruiser / final days of ‘team dingleberries’