This may be my first post written from an airport.
It will likely not be my last.
I'm in Portland. I wasn't here 24 hours ago and 24 hours from now I will be safe and secure in my apartment on the hill, restlessly awaiting the sunset. Once it it dark, I will rest.
Actually, I should be in that place 3 hours from now but I was going for symmetry.
The people here look like they've seen a thing or two. And those that haven't would have if they hadn't looked away.
Karen - Congratulations for your victory in the year-long contest to see who would represent the Group of Seven in Las Vegas during the World Series of Poker. You'll do great Karen, baby in belly or not. Just remember they've got a name for the winners of the world but not for those who lose. Also, thank your husband for is 600 chip bet on that AT8 flop with one spade. A smaller bet would have kept me in it and my nut spade flush would have given me - not the birthday boy - the dominating chip lead. Still, I have a feeling you would have pulled it off. You were the best player and I was tired from the night before during which:
I attended a concert by this band and saw these two people together (date?) in the audience.
Such a vision - polygamist grandmother and grandson together at a hipster indie Echo Park rock show - would have made anyone too dizzy too sleep. Plus, there were other things.
Also at the show - this band sang the best live song I've heard (listen to Under the Sun.) And yes that is the man responsible for Blister in the Sun. Word.
They're about to board us. Bye.