I drove back into town early last night, the trip from Eugene not as bad I had expected, what with the head cold and all.
I realize now that I took hardly any pictures of my trip to the Pacific Northwest this time around. Perhaps because I've been there, done that, a few times before. Not to say I was bored on this trip at all — just that it was more of a mental refresh than a fancy new adventure.
And that suited me just fine.
I found on this trip a reminder that there's two kinds of family: the one you're born into, and the one you accumulate through friendships. It's easy to forget about the latter when I'm embroiled in a cloak of depression and routine. It was such a relief to let go just a little and be one of the parts of myself that doesn't get a chance to escape too often.
Because really, that's what family is: the people who know you so well that you let go around them, emotionally and psychologically and mentally. You act with them differently than you would around the rest of the world and — if they're the good kind of family — you know that pretty much no matter what you do they'll still open the door and let you crash and vent and release.
So. Easter weekend I stayed with Steph, whom I've known since high school and survived Epic Farts with and we still haven't yet killed her, and together we pretty much acted like we were still in high school: driving around town, spending too much money on stuff, hanging out at the bookstore (Oh, Powell's, how I love you so) (I controlled myself, by the way: only spent $180!) (Mostly because the basket was getting too heavy for me to carry it anymore. And Steph needed to move the car, so it was time to leave.), eating, and poking around in nature looking for rocks.
The week after was spent with the Kirkland Crew, and working out of my company's Seattle office. Most of the trip involved drinking and bullshitting, board games and bad movies. A night of dinner and wine with Emily and her new beau, happy hour on Friday with the coworkers, and a couple excursions to Pike Place Market pretty much rounded out the trip. The drive down was eased by a stopover in Eugene with my cousin Ryan, the weather was nice enough for a walk before dinner, and then a soft warm bed to pass out in before making the final journey back to San Francisco.
Nothing terribly exciting to report, then. At least, not about my vacation. Maybe my happiest vacations are the least eventful ones. The big adventure, however, is coming up this late summer/early fall. Hopefully that will make up for all of this.