Fishstick Friday

Ben and I have both gone to Portland a million times but we never see the city its usually stictly family time. So we decided that we would spend a day in P-town as tourists. It was incredibly selfish of us and a ton of fun.

In true B.S. fashion we ended up not doing a whole lot. Well it was hot and we were tired, so we ate and drank a lot and took a nap in a park.

Here is our day in pictures:

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After I read the below out loud to the person it was referring to I felt a twinge of guilt. The actual intention of the post was to make me look bad, in fact make me look like a raging bitch who can’t keep her mouth shut. But after further consideration I can see how it may not have come across that way and MAY have painted said person in an unfavorable light. I’ve learned a lesson about boundaries and I will keep that in my mind as I continue to blog.

1. Worst drunken fight with Ben to date, first since we moved in together. The subject of the fight is still foggy to both of us, we just know if was a doozy. The root of it boiled down to that we have very different arguing styles. When we’re sober I can argue him in circles and he just can’t keep up, I’m a well-seasoned arguer and he is not. He gets all jammed up and can’t finish a thought let alone connect those thoughts into a convincing order to get me to back down. This has been very hard to get used to but I think its something that will ultimately be very good for me. So when we drink the situation gets worse. If something happens I start arguing and yelling (which he REALLY can’t take) and then he starts shouting out random words like “Water” or “Orange Juice” what he’s trying to say is “why are you yelling at me and mad at me right now? I was a good boyfriend tonight and got you water and orange juice when you were too drunk”. Its like the words are piling up in his head and I can see him physically stumbling over them as they fall out of his mouth in incoherent sentences. Its frustrating but very endearing at the same time because the internal struggle he’s having shows all over his face. I imagine if I could see inside his head it would look like a log jam but with words and only the small little guys squeak through. Then he reaches a point….very quickly….where he realizes he won’t be able to get me to stop yelling because he’s shouting out random words at me….so he leaves. I don’t take this very well. I think that the only-child-who-was-raised-by-an-alcoholic side of my personality kicks in and my intense fear of abandonment flares up and I call my therapist crying. It was a pretty nasty little squabble and although we worked it out the next morning in about 20 mins I still get concerned that it will happen again and continue happening. The worst part about drunken fights is that your so in the moment and not really yourself that it is really hard, for some maybe even impossible, to learn from previous mistakes. I’m not to worried because 95% of the time we are totally happy but because of my background these incidents are always in the back of my mind.

2. Realy good Pagliacci pizza. It wasn’t burned at all, perfect amount of pepperoni and just the right amount of wait time. I was hungry when it came but I wasn’t starving so I had a slow binge not a passed out in a comma binge in three mins due to prior starvation.

3. Barnes and Noble and REI visit. We’re such nerds! I heart reading travel books and then going to REI and looking at how much tents weigh and comparing prices of water filtration systems and finding the perfect all purpose spork.