Very good times here in Portland. Only way it would be better is if I was actually on some kind of vacation now and could stick around for a few days and see the people (e.g. I don't even get to visit w/my dang sister, let alone any of the ultrahot girls I not-so-secretly admire up this way). It is the way of these things for the time to be compressed, for a half-hour stomping around a gravel yard and bonfire screaming along with The Eastern -- a.k.a. our lovely friend Jess and her giant tattoodled marmite-savoring redbeard hombre Adam from New Zeland -- serving in place of lengthy dinner conversation.

This is human, to engage in such rituals. We are all here together. It's a celebration of life.

Sadly the sun also rises, and yesterday was spent mostly fighting off the blood-thirsty death-panther hangover and then putting in a mild six-hour workday trying to scramble back in front of some deadlines. I assume at some point my life will return to a more equalized state, but for now chugging away the afternoon in Beulahland ain't so bad.

And so I've gotta roll, waiting now for my ride to tearass through town from Tacoma. It's another insane week ahead. I'm planning to make it back here in August, work and time and transport permitting. That'll be good. For now there is but one thing to do: ride the fuckin' lightning, bitches.