PDX, Instagram, and Real Polaroids

Posted on
Mar 21, 2013

Last month, we popped down to Portland for the weekend, with our pal Chrissy in tow. We’d been meaning to head down to PDX together for a while – our friend Skye had moved back out west after living in Baltimore for the last two years. I couldn’t remember the last time we’d all been in the same place at the same time. I think it was a few years ago, at least.

It was a brief but fun trip. We wandered around, without any destinations or plans. I didn’t even bring my camera.

That’s right: I didn’t take a single photo. Not a one. But Chrissy did. She was only armed with her phone, but the results are pretty damn great. She snapped this one of her and Skye, which I adore:

Yes, it was taken on Instagram. Quite, you.

And then later, Skye took this one in the lobby of our hotel:

It makes me feel all squishy and warm inside. But as I stared at it, I couldn’t shake the feeling that it felt familiar. Then I realized why – it’s because of this actual Polaroid, taken five or so years ago, which also made me feel warm and squishy:

He was out cold (and sober). AT A PARTY.

At the time, Rand was still struggling with his startup (which was proving exhausting, as you can see), and Chrissy, Skye, and I all still worked together.

I’m very, very tempted to point out how damn young and skinny we look in that last photo. How Rand’s beard doesn’t have a trace of grey in it, how my eyes look bright and happy and how Chrissy … well, she pretty much looks the same. Damn her.

But more than anything, I can’t help but look at that last photo and realize how friggin lucky I am to have had these people in my life for the last half decade.

Warm. Squishy. Not bad for some camera photos and an old Polaroid.

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