Legitimately OreGONE

I have an unfortunate track record for falling in love and getting really good at things and then dropping them promptly--dance (when I was 4), martial arts (when I was 11), piano (when I was 13) musical theatre (high school), calculus, surfing (okay, though I'm not really good, and I haven't quit)...I could really go on for a paragraph. I also have a track record for moving, though that's not really my fault--Santa Monica, Irvine, Greenfield, Los Angeles, Ventura, McMinnville...I don't really have a geographical location I associate with home. The world is my home. ooooooo that sounded sharp.
The POINT is, I hope I don't "drop" Oregon.
If you've been following my blogs you know my parents have moved to McMinnville, a quaint farm town of 32,000 an hour south-west of Portland. I spent a couple days there, with my Aunt Jeanine (one of my three favorite people in the world) and new Oregon best bud Allie. And the city makes me swoon.
Public transportation abounds. Every Saturday the kooky artisans gather in the glistening downtown area for an adorable market. The city is the site of the largest urban forest in the US--Forest Park. I'm gonna go for a run there someday. Today I met a former Jesuit Volunteer for lunch on Hawthorne Blvd, one of the funky neighborhoods in the southeast city. I parked behind a VW van, running on biodiesel, with a Returned Peace Corps Volunteer bumper sticker. On the street everyone was wearing an Irish cap or colorful stockings or carrying a farmer's market bag. The city is extremely young, fresh, organic, liberal--not that I whole-heartedly embrace all of these things, but I certainly love being around them.
And there's so much GREEN. Allie and I drove to Washington Park (part of Forest Park), up a winding blue road and through some smoky mountains, where we entered the forested Portland Zoo and took a cold nighttime train ride through their Christmas lights. It was the most Christmas-y thing I've ever done. When you're downtown, too, you're surrounded by clean, friendly skyscrapers and the MAX (a tram), but around you are pines and grass and hippies. And REDHEADS (the JVI I had lunch with, por ejemplo). So many gingers! Yay! My dad says it's no wonder--the smart descendants of northwestern Europeans are drawn to the northwestern united states, where they contract less skin cancer. Perhaps...
Who knows where I'll be in a year--five--ten. Saudi Arabia would be jiggy (in the right circumstances). But realistically, I could be here for a while. It's more realistic than my other fantasy prospect, London, a place I could never move without annoying my family. I FIT here, and I've never fit anywhere.

Taking my fickle personality into account, I'm sorry if tomorrow my favorite city is Houston. But don't count on it.