Me & TeaThis weekend I headed three hours south to Portland, which is sort of the cultural hotspot Seattle was 15 years ago. Portland circa now is filled with fabulous arts and music and great urban planning and public transportation and hot bus boys and great tea shops and relatively affordable housing and it’s always a delight to soak up a city that’s on its way up, instead of one that’s established and coasting and on the cultural decline.

Theoretically I went down for a party where my friend Rara was playing music, but I actually didn’t see that much of Rara and instead there was lots of visiting and socializing and chai and talking and smoking and walking and eating, too.

Dori hosted me, and we were perfectly aligned in our exciting needs for Saturday afternoon: she wanted to dork out on boxes of beads, and I wanted to nap. I appreciate a host who allows narcoleptic guests to curl up with a sleeping bag and make gentle snoring sounds in the middle of the afternoon.

Later, I inadvertently invited like 10 people I didn’t know (including someone’s 11 year old son) over to Dori’s house. Who’s the best guest ever!? “Hi! Nice to be here. Mind if I pass out, and then have some people over?”

The party was hilarious, filled with what Dori called “Space Hippies” and hosted at a well-established New Age church called The Crystal Temple. (Go read that website. Thank me later!) I greatly enjoyed the music I came to see, but ultimately got tired and missed the last quarter of Rara’s set.

There’s no end or point to this story other than this: I drank four different kinds of chai, and ate an amazing brunch at a place called the Tin Shed.