That\u2019s right. Amber Philips is not only a PDX person, she is one my very best friends. Hey, my only instruction for this column was to interview people who live and work in Portland. Amber fits the bill\u2026 well, not quite, she works in Vancouver, Washington. But she lives in Portland, so there, it counts. <\/span><\/p>\n

Anyway, when you\u2019re writing about your best friend, it\u2019s tough. What do you say? The best route is to just let them say. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWell, you\u2019re my best friend, you tell me!\u201d she exclaims to me with a wide-eyed smile as I stare blankly, recorder in hand, sweat beading on my brow. My, that fireplace is hot. <\/span><\/p>\n

I manage to squawk something about her sense of humor. She laughs. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOooohhhh, good one, okay, nice save,\u201d she says, throwing me a bone.<\/span><\/p>\n

I wipe the sweat from my brow and let the silence fill the void.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI love dad jokes,\u201d she says suddenly. \u201cI made one up last night.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

I wait, enraptured. She knows what I like. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat did the conductor say to the baseball player when he got on the train?\u201d she asks, pretty much rhetorically, as she continues, \u201cHey! You can\u2019t chew chew on this choo choo!!\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

Raucous guffawing follows. You see, we share that sense of humor. It might be just one of the reasons our friendship has remained over 20 years.<\/span><\/p>\n

But let us get back to the serious. This is an unbiased profile of one of our own <\/span>PDX people<\/span><\/a> and we are going to treat it as such.<\/span><\/p>\n

Amber sighs, sensing we have to get serious, or something. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI went to the University of Reno and got a Bachelor\u2019s in Criminal Justice and later completed a Masters of Financial Analysis program at PSU,\u201d she says. \u201cRight now I\u2019m a financial analyst for a vertically integrated real estate company.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

As wonderful as that all sounds, Amber knows her calling. \u201cIf money was no object and I could do whatever I wanted, I would travel the world and eat at restaurants,\u201d she says with the finality of a slammed door. Can we blame her?<\/span><\/p>\n

It may seem appropriate then that her reply to what drives her comes without hesitation. \u201cMoney,\u201d she blurts. It\u2019s only fair. How else would one travel the world and eat at restaurants?<\/span><\/p>\n

Except that Amber\u2019s got more than a globe-trotting, fine dining fetish to tickle. She\u2019s a clubber; she\u2019s a raver, and she\u2019s proud of it. Or is she? Watch as she works through it with herself.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI went to parties every single weekend into my twenties. In my late twenties and early thirties I kind of stepped away from it…\u201d her voice trails off and she looks at the ceiling for a moment before looking squarely back at me, \u201cis that true though?\u201d she asks. \u201cNo, I don\u2019t think it\u2019s true,\u201d she answers.<\/span><\/p>\n

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