Thursday, April 30, 2009
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Donuts, rain, sleep deprivation and a wedding
Getting married today. Crazy! I hope I remember some of it and stay awake. I don't travel so good. Sooooo tired. It rains today, today it rains. I will buy an umbrella from the vintage store across the street (there's one of those, every five feet) and go get married, that's my plan for today.
Here's yesterday:
Here's yesterday:
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Right out of your mouth. With a wooden spoon.
4:20 AM. That's when our alarm went off this morning. Dressing in the dark, bleary-eyed, moving through the house like a grape through jell-o. Why is air so much thicker when you are tired.
Right now it's 7:45 pm pacific time. We are in the coolest room I've ever been in at the Bluebird Guesthouse. It's old-timey. Art-deco. I'm sitting still but the room is spinning from plane dizziness and exhaustion but I'm happy as hell anyway.
Let me return to early in the morning hours. Driving in the cab through town before sunrise, with the streets dead, was cinematic. I started missing my cat (who's for real name now is Trillby) about 20 seconds after leaving. Little fuzzball.
We breezed through customs and our flight to Dallas was uneventful. Yes, that's right, we took the very efficient route of flying to Dallas before getting to Portland. Sigh. Anyway. I have been wanting to visit Texas for a long time. Somehow though, I don't think eating a pasty vegetable wrap in an airport terminal, watching planes being refueled is the best way to see Texas. Or is it?
I wrote this next part in real-time on the plane so I'll switch temporal modes now:
So I'm flying out of Texas now, above Utah or Arkansas or Poland or whatever the hell is between Dallas and Portland. There are 3 manly men in the seats across the aisle from us. 2 are from Texas and 1 is from Boston. The Texans were mocking the Bostonian: "How come you say 'Ore-re-gone'? It's Orr-gun. Orr-gun."
When the second Texan came to his seat, the first Texan said to him: "Watch out now. This guy is from Boston. I saw his Red Sox shirt and thought, oh now, this won't work, I'm a Yankee...but he's in the military and I got to respect that...."
None of these chaps knew each other, but soon became the best of friends, bonding over talk of guns and sports and how short their mothers are.
"My mom is 4'11."
"My mom is 4'9."
"My mom is 4'2."
The other two in unison: "Really?"
"Yeah but she's tough."
"Oh my mom too. She'll beat the piss right out of your mouth with a wooden spoon."
Will he put that in her obituary I wonder?
This plane is a lot smaller and hotter than the first one. There's a pilot sitting kitty corner from me. I scrutinized his face during take off for signs of concern. He was too busy reading his Harry Potter book to be reliable though.
I guess flying has become a little less scary for me, but no less uncomfortable. It's a long haul. I'm sure it will all seem worth it when I get there.
Back to real-time again, here in Portland, I can say already, it was worth it. I'm already pretty sure I need to live here. In a few short blocks around our Inn, we've seen streets and houses and restaurants that look like our brains designed and built them specifically for us. Hopefully the photos will do it some justice. I'm pretty out of it this evening and maybe not at my writing or photographing best. I am feeling full of good food and soon, I will be full of gravol and sleeping like a northwestern log, hopefully.
Portland day 1. Success.
Right now it's 7:45 pm pacific time. We are in the coolest room I've ever been in at the Bluebird Guesthouse. It's old-timey. Art-deco. I'm sitting still but the room is spinning from plane dizziness and exhaustion but I'm happy as hell anyway.
Let me return to early in the morning hours. Driving in the cab through town before sunrise, with the streets dead, was cinematic. I started missing my cat (who's for real name now is Trillby) about 20 seconds after leaving. Little fuzzball.
We breezed through customs and our flight to Dallas was uneventful. Yes, that's right, we took the very efficient route of flying to Dallas before getting to Portland. Sigh. Anyway. I have been wanting to visit Texas for a long time. Somehow though, I don't think eating a pasty vegetable wrap in an airport terminal, watching planes being refueled is the best way to see Texas. Or is it?
I wrote this next part in real-time on the plane so I'll switch temporal modes now:
So I'm flying out of Texas now, above Utah or Arkansas or Poland or whatever the hell is between Dallas and Portland. There are 3 manly men in the seats across the aisle from us. 2 are from Texas and 1 is from Boston. The Texans were mocking the Bostonian: "How come you say 'Ore-re-gone'? It's Orr-gun. Orr-gun."
When the second Texan came to his seat, the first Texan said to him: "Watch out now. This guy is from Boston. I saw his Red Sox shirt and thought, oh now, this won't work, I'm a Yankee...but he's in the military and I got to respect that...."
None of these chaps knew each other, but soon became the best of friends, bonding over talk of guns and sports and how short their mothers are.
"My mom is 4'11."
"My mom is 4'9."
"My mom is 4'2."
The other two in unison: "Really?"
"Yeah but she's tough."
"Oh my mom too. She'll beat the piss right out of your mouth with a wooden spoon."
Will he put that in her obituary I wonder?
This plane is a lot smaller and hotter than the first one. There's a pilot sitting kitty corner from me. I scrutinized his face during take off for signs of concern. He was too busy reading his Harry Potter book to be reliable though.
I guess flying has become a little less scary for me, but no less uncomfortable. It's a long haul. I'm sure it will all seem worth it when I get there.
Back to real-time again, here in Portland, I can say already, it was worth it. I'm already pretty sure I need to live here. In a few short blocks around our Inn, we've seen streets and houses and restaurants that look like our brains designed and built them specifically for us. Hopefully the photos will do it some justice. I'm pretty out of it this evening and maybe not at my writing or photographing best. I am feeling full of good food and soon, I will be full of gravol and sleeping like a northwestern log, hopefully.
Portland day 1. Success.
Monday, April 13, 2009
bitchin' hitchin'
Alright then, T and I might as well go get married this week eh? Ayep. We will be eating our way through Portland for 4 days. Wish us luck.
Have a donut in our honor on friday after 2pm why don't ya?
Have a donut in our honor on friday after 2pm why don't ya?