Room Service

When the stars aligned and my dance competition and night out with the Oregonians for Nebraska (see previous post) happened to be scheduled for the same weekend at the same Portland Hotel, I decided to make a weekend out of it. I booked a room at the hotel and headed down to Oregon. As is usually the case when I have ample time to do something, I try to do too much, typically behind schedule. Heaven forbid I be early somewhere or find myself with nothing to do. Even though I was well aware of this tendency, I still set off for Portland slightly later than planned and spent much longer at the outlet mall on the way than I had intended. Nevertheless, I still had just enough time to check into my hotel and be at the dinner on time. And what did I do with my "just enough time"? Tried to cram one more thing in. On my list of "Things to do in Portland" is a trip to Voodoo Donuts. I've been to Powell's Bookstore several times, seen--and performed at--a Trailblazers game, and tried just about every brewery in the city, but I had yet to go to Voodoo. I'd already tried their donuts, which perhaps moved this destination to the top of my list. I figured that Saturday evening would be a low-density time to pick up donuts...but even at 6pm, the line stretched out the door. However, rather than chock it up as a loss and try the next day, I decided to stick it out. The "stubborn gene" I inherited from every female relative I have kicked in hard core. So, by the time I picked up my maple bacon bar and chocolate/peanut butter/oreo cookie crumb donut, I had just enough time to run up to my room, change clothes, do the Heisman pose with Johnny Rodgers, and slide into my seat for the salad course.

Bacon makes everything better.

After dinner, however, I was able to truly relax. I got to watch cable TV (there was nothing on, of course) and sleep in. I didn't have to be at my competition until the afternoon, so I stayed in the room until check-out. I lolled around in my pajamas, tried cable again (still nothing on), and read a book.

And I ordered room service. I'd never done that before, so yet another thing to check off my list. The room service waitress knocked at the door promptly half an hour later with the requisite "room service" call. The tray had the quintessential covered dish. Perhaps butternut squash ravioli wasn't the smartest thing to eat before tap dancing to Stevie Ray Vaughan, but it still tasted pretty good.

And to top off a great weekend, our tap group "Hot Steppin'" won another 1st place trophy. Not a bad vacation, if I do say so myself.