A Seaside Getaway

What happens when two writers decided to have a weekend getaway and their first real bonding experience as friends?

Not as much writing as you would think.

When Jessica and I planned this little getaway, life was kind of kicking both of our butts. We’ve been working a ton, she’s got a toddler, and me – well, I’m a hot mess. We promised that this would be a relaxing weekend full of laughter, bonding, drinking, and sleep. Lots of sleep.

What I didn’t expect is just how much we’d bond, and how she would just bring out the ridiculously silly side of me. As one of the first friends I made in Seattle (thanks Twitter), and as a fellow writer, Jess holds a special place in my heart. I was a little worried because we’d never spent 1:1 time that lasted more than our Restaurant Week dinners.

“What if she hates me? What if I’m annoying? OMG WHAT IF WE RUN OUT OF THINGS TO TALK ABOUT? WHAT IF I TALK TOO MUCH? OH MY GOD”

I picked her up on Friday after a couple of meetings and we began our 4 hour drive to Seaside, OR. Apparently, it was monsoon season on I-5 and I had missed the memo. We got to Seaside safe and sound, checked into our hotel and immediately ventured out to find dinner and alcohol.

Jess asked me what I was in the mood for and my answer was simple: “Meat. And booze.” What can I say? I’m a simple gal.

With the power of the internet, we found ourselves in a restaurant which had an Irish pub attached to it. Classy dinner followed by a dive bar without us needing to go back out in the rain? Yes please. The joint was nearly empty. Apparently, Seaside is not hopping on Fridays in February, but we obviously hadn’t gone there for the party scene. Our bartender was really nice and seemed really interesting…at first. You know those people who come across super intriguing with the short version of their life story, but then keep talking? And talking? And interrupting you mid-convo and talking? That was him. I mean, I get it. He was a little bored and lonely, but it bothers me when people can’t read the room. Just when I was starting to feel a little bitchy, Jess went to the bathroom and I asked for our check.

He had comped our entire dinner. We both had steak dinners with two drinks each. It was very sweet, so we tipped him well. When he happened to also come over to the Irish bar after his shift, we made sure we didn’t make eye contact. A girl’s got her limits.

After we decided we were done drinking, bonding, and people watching, I had the brilliant realization that we didn’t have ANY food back at the hotel room. What if we got hungry in the middle of the night? WE NEEDED SNACKS. Thankfully, there was a grocery store just a few blocks away. Now, needless to say, we were a little intoxicated. As we stepped out into the rain, I noticed a couple about to get their make out on. In my most respectful voice, I blurted out:

“Excusemebeforeyoustartmakingoutwhere’stheSafeway?”

They giggled. Pointed us in the right direction. Proceeded to make out. At the store, we were on a mission. We needed wine that didn’t require a corkscrew, water, cheese, bread, and Cheetos. At the check out line, I was so excited about the fact that we could get plastic bags, the cashier and I startled each other.

Me: “Excuse me, can I g-“
Cashier: “What, WHAT DO YOU NEED HONEY?”
Me: “I was just going to ask for a plastic bag. Which you’re already giving me. *whisper* Thanks.”
Cashier: “Oh.”
Me: “We’re from Washington. We got excited about the plastic bag.”
Cashier: “That explains it. You gals have a good night.”

On Saturday, both of us slept in until 10 (YES), ventured out for brunch, did some antiquing, and then Jess said the magic words I didn’t know I’d been waiting for my entire life:

“Do you want to ride the carousel?”

DID I? I hadn’t been on a carousel in 20 years, and guess what? You’re never too old to be a kid.

After the carousel, we swung on swings at the beach, watching the waves crash.

There were a lot more shenanigans before we hit the road Sunday morning. Those are the memories Jess and I will be giggling over until we’re old and Maya tells us to stop talking shit about the rude bartender in a tiny coastal town in Oregon.

It’s intriguing to me how I grew up as a tomboy, with more guy friends than girls, and in my late 20s, I’ve had amazing women come into my life – and STAY. Not just in a flippant manner, but in a way that is lasting and important for both parties. I mean, the background on my phone is her daughter holding her new penguin with the most adorable look on her face. How could I not feel so grateful for this friendship?

It was raining Friday and Sunday. Saturday, the skies were clear, we woke up to sunshine and ended our night with the full moon looking down on us with its halo. Sunday, as we got close to home, we saw not one but two rainbows. It was as if Mother Nature herself was blessing this little getaway.

It was the perfect weekend which brought us even closer. It reminded me that no matter how low I am, I have people in my life who won’t push my boundaries. Instead, they’ll come under the blankets with me as I nurture my soul back to health without the pressure of always being ‘on’.