A Trip Home(s)

Good evening, friends and neighbors.

The flight in was abysmal. Normally, I don’t truly care one way or another for air travel- I usually have enough of SOMETHING to make being stuck in the same seat for hours on end manageable- reading material, writing work, podcasts, exhaustion, something to make the hours a little shorter.

For some reason, though, the red-eye out of Portland International drove me mad. I’d been tired enough to sleep, but not exhausted enough to sleep for very long. Nothing distracted me long enough that I could ignore my legs getting twitchy and anxious.

Granted, that had been my entire body and mind for the last week or so, and this plane trip was meant partially to help me relax and get ready for a new job to start the next week. What better way to relax than ten days of family and food- and what better place to do it?

Hello, you f***ed up little city. Good to see you again.

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A Song of Time and Sandwiches

Good evening, friends and neighbors!​When my mother came to visit from the East Coast this past week, her suitcase and two smallish bags had to pass under the paranoiac scrutiny of the TSA. One went unremarked, but the other immediately drew their ire- a small, heavy cooler bag with a pair of sandwiches.

According to my mother, the TSA agent removed the deli paper-wrapped logs.
“What are these?”
“A pair of subs for my son and his wife.”
Okay…. what, they don’t have Subway in Portland?”
“It’s not the same.”
… Okay. Here you go.”

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