I think I love you

Oh hey, it's Sunday again.

I try to write during the week, but I'm so drained everything is just word vomit. yum.

Yesterday we went on a road trip to Maine, finally. We've only been talking about it since last winter. This trip was prompted by a friend of Anton's birthday celebrations. The rest of the group were planning on being in Portland the whole weekend, but we're the anti-social type, so one day of interaction seemed like more than enough to us.

Only, we never met up with his friends. We were always about a street or two apart, but would go in the opposite direction whenever they'd let us know where they were. I don't know why we do this. Ah well.

I think I can speak for us both when I say we had an amazing day. The drive to Portland is short- even if had to drive through New Hampshire to get there. One thing that still blows my mind about New England is how freakishly small all the states are (it almost seems like by the time they made it to the plains, the person in charge of sectioning off territories was all FUCK THIS SHIT and as a result, all the western states are HUGE). Driving an hour and twenty minutes from my home town in Michigan would have gotten me to Detroit- still another 45 minutes to an hour away from Ohio. In the opposite direction, it would have taken seven hours just to get to the Upper Peninsula. Here, I can get to New Hampshire in 15 minutes, and apparently through New Hampshire to Maine in about 30.

If it weren't for the lack of things named after places in England, I would have easily believed Maine was Ontario.  Nice, but a sad lack of moose milling about. I

A side note- I love moose. I've never seen them in person, and while I know they are HUGE, I still think of them as large cows. I also love cows. Oh their knobby heads and weird tongues, I just want to snuggle them.

So, Maine. Portland, specifically: I love it. ample public parking, designed for pedestrians and vegan friendly. What's not to love?  Though we couldn't move there. We lack the pea coats and luscious beards and look of smug superiority.

Okay, that last one is a staple everywhere in New England though...

The highlight of the day was our first stop: Green Elephant. I have only been to a vegetarian restaurant once before (three years ago for my birthaversary, to Seva in Ann Arbor. The rarity of vegetarian restaurants in the places I've lived has always made me want to open my own. Who knows. Maybe one day.), and I was gladly  impressed about -everything-.

The over-abundance of options was just...there are no words to describe how it felt to look over a menu knowing I could eat ANYTHING. Anything at all, without modifying it. I could just order it, and it would come out,and I could eat it without checking it over for hidden cheese or trusting that the waiter relayed my message about my food allergies. I just what is that is this really how other people live.

Do people without food allergies know how fucking lucky they are? I mean, do they really? The only places we can go out to eat where we live are Thai restaurants, because they are the only ones who don't fuck up my order. Every. Single. Time. we have gone to any other type of restaurant here, that has happened. I say no cheese, which somehow means PLEASE BY ALL MEANS, ALL THE CHEESE IN THE KITCHEN, PUT IT ON MY FOOD. No sauce is always taken to mean "just put the sauce on there and cover it up." I hate having to explain when I'm ordering that I have fucking allergies that can fucking kill me, so please, for the love of god, don't put any dairy on my food and don't cross contaminate. I have issues with low blood sugar too, so by the time Death Food Theater has played out, I'm in tears, Anton is stabby, and it's just no good for anyone.

So we don't eat out, really. I cook everything because it's the only way to be sure. This, of course, is better for our health and wallet, but STILL. I enjoy NOT having to cook every meal, every day.

Not only were all the choices vegan (except one dish that had egg that was easily removed), but many were also wheat free. If Green Elephant were a person I would have done dirty dirty things to them for making such a restaurant, where I could enjoy the food and conversation without risking my health.

We left stuffed, but not weighted down or tired like we would anywhere else. And it fueled our all day walk-a-thon. I want to live there.

We walked nearly three miles in the slush and over icy sidewalks, all over the city. I had more fun with my husband than should be legal (which is good, because I think it's paved the way for more fun day trips. Our last real day trip was the day before his aunt died last summer and the world went to hell for a couple months.). In fact, the only negative about yesterday was the amount of pain I'm still in today, but that isn't Portland's fault.

Two weeks ago, I wrenched my left knee working out. It still hurts, but it's lead to my left hip and ankle to be burny and biting as well. About half way through our day yesterday my right hip joined in the fun. I do not know what's up with my body. Yes, I'm getting older, but I'll be twenty-eight, not seventy. I've taken it easy, I've iced the joints in question, I've taken pain reducers and eaten more bananas. And it's all done a whole lot of nothin' in relieving my pain or healing. It. Sucks.


We're making plans to go to Portland again on my birthday, but also Kennebunk...later in the year we need to find a reason to take a trip to Vermont, and Rhode Island. I'm trying to visit all the northern New England states while we still live out here so I NEVER HAVE TO COME OUT HERE AGAIN once we move. That's a goal near and dear to my heart.

Off to ice my old lady joints again.