Six flights in about two weeks. Not bad for someone who dislikes flying as much as I do. The five-hour haul between Seattle and DC was the toughest -- my legs and back were uncomfortable throughout (it's not easy for short people, either, those of you with long legs), and the TV selections were piss-poor and on dim, distant screens. Virgin was by far the best (SEA - SFO), comfy seats and personal satellite TV, plus I ordered those GoPicnic lunchboxes. No one offered free food, not even for the x-country flight. Incredible, huh? So for our trip to the east coast, I came prepared with a huge sack of snacks: cherries, cheese, crackers, hard salami, pickles, dried apples, etc. United can basically suck it.

The trip to Myrtle Beach was great. Weather was hot each day, though humid. I am not used to the humidity though, so to me it was like a week in a relaxing sauna. I loved it. We went to the beach several times; powdery white sand, luminous warm water, plentiful shells, flocks of diving pelicans. Magical. I had real southern fried chicken and sweet tea (it was too sweet). Sis-in-law Alantra gave me a gratis hair trim in her chair at the salon where she works (cut Brian's poofy hair, too). Took a brief swim in a private pool. Got a little bit of a tan. Felt lots of kicking from the baby. Oh and went to the outlet mall and scored a very nice and deeply discounted Kate Spade diaper bag in pink and orange gingham canvas. It worked nicely as a beach bag, too.

The only crappy part of the trip was the ending -- we had to stay the night in Raleigh NC, 250 miles from Myrtle Beach, because our flight to DC the next morning was at 6:20am and that was the only feasible way to do it. So I got a room near the airport. Sadly, this hotel was hosting a "line dancing marathon" that evening. Marathon implies "all night" and sure enough, groups of drunk line dancers sauntered up and down the hall past our 6th floor room for hours on end past midnight, screaming, laughing, and talking as loudly as possible. We had to get up at 4:30 to get our shuttle. I was so pissed. I thought *everyone* knew that when walking around in a hotel late at night, you are to keep your voice to a whisper or not talk at all. I also thought southerners were known for their manners. Apparently NOT. Lesson learned: stick with small boutique hotels that don't have facilities for hosting giant obnoxious events.

Anyway. ( Pics this way )

Sunday
Mia woke up at dawn and sang along with the fire engine passing somewhere outside.

( travelogue )

Saturday
Before I even got up, Derek was offering me toast and jam. I think living with a pregnant wife, he understood that we have certain needs.

( travelogue )


donuts at Four Barrel

Next: Sunday.

Friday
I woke up and was not sick.

( travelogue )



Next: Saturday.

Thursday
Left work at two o'clock to take speedy shuttle van to the airport.

( travelogue )


(photo I found online of a room identical to mine)

Next: Friday.

We are back home. The cats were thrilled to see us, as usual. They got some kibble and then many pets and a good brushing. Our cat sitter is awesome. She left us a daily log of their cuteness. She even cleaned up when they tracked kitty litter all over everything.

It was a long flight, the first hour was pretty bumpy. But I did well. I am getting better about flying, though I am still pretty retardedly superstitious about it. Oh well. It's my phobia. I am usually back to normal once we level off and smooth out.

Okay we are now going to Arizmendi!!

Posting from Allison's boyfriend's sweet house in Milwaukee... It has been overcast and warm all day.

After the game last night, we walked back to Camp Kickass. Stopped at Dunkin Donuts on the way, figuring that since we'd walked about six miles that afternoon, a donut was in order. We hung out for a few minutes, then got in the rental car and headed north. It took about ninety minutes to reach Milwaukee. Allison was still up, though tired, and showed us directly to our futon in the guest room. I was awakened in the night by some thunder and rain lashing the windows, and then by the nearby whistle of a passing freight train.

Oh and as for the baseball game. The tickets and receipt claimed a 7:05 start time, but ESPN moved the game back to 6pm instead. So we missed the first two innings, which worked out because it made getting to our seats easier. Before the game, Brian and I walked to Claire's and hung out in her bachelorette pad enjoying a beer and some snacks.

We were in the upper deck along the first base line. The place was packed with people. I looked for other Giants fans, they were easy to spot in cream and black jerseys. I was there with my three Chicago pals, who naturally were cheering for the Cubs (though they are all really Tigers fans). Claire and I rooted against the Cubs. Brian was neutral.

I spose it was a good game -- I expected the Giants to be blown out, but they actually managed to get the lead for a couple innings, an amazing feat. I was particularly glad that Bonds did not start, which I am sure irritated all of the home team's fans. Ha ha. He hasn't been productive anyway, no real loss. From where we were sitting, I could easily spy on my local Giants broadcasters in the booth. I love those dudes.

I got a hot dog and was pleased to find that it was grilled, not steamed. It was good too, though I am still not a fan of the neon green relish. And no I did not put ketchup on it. What do I look like some kind of animal?

Showing true class, the Cubs fans in the bleachers decided to celebrate their late rally by throwing trash all over the field. Nuff said.

And that's what happened the last time I watched a Cubs game, when their manager went apeshit after a play at third base and got ejected.

Anyway, the Giants lost. If I have anything positive to say about the Cubs or their fans, it was that (in my section) people were very spirited and paying close attention to each pitch and going bonkers even when a Giant hit a foul ball. I felt like it was kind of over the top though, especially when the crowd went wild for a routine fly ball hit by one of their batters. No you guys, it's not a home run, it's an out.

But it would be cool if Giants fans would treat every game like it was a playoff game, you know? Maybe our fans have gotten too used to winning and don't know what to do with a loser team on the field, and Cubs fans are so used to losing and futility that every base hit is like a grand slam to win the World Series.

Which is kind of pitiful, really.

We hung around after the game and watched the grounds crew. By the time we left, the streets were still full of drunk douchebags, as expected. The five of us headed west, straight down Addison to Lincoln, and by then we were alone.

Anyway. On a quiet shady street in Bayview, Milwaukee. We had all-you-can-eat Middle Eastern buffet for lunch, which was amazing, then headed to the food co-op to get coffee. We will start back toward Chicago in the next few hours and try to lay low the rest of the night so we can get up super early to make our trek to the airport and home.

It has been raining for most of our two-day stay up here in Lakeport, but that's okay. I'm from Seattle, after all, and not terribly bothered by rain, except in the cases when we have to drive in it and people in SUVs are being a-holes.

But anyway, the sun has peeked through just in time for our drive home, which is great.

This weekend has been all about drinking wine and eating a lot. The food has been excellent all around. This morning our hosts/friends made us amazing homemade waffles with raspberry coulis, and served us a yogurt and fruit parfait containing the homemade granola that I brought to them. Nutty!

We made sure to get lots of relaxing and laying around done, in between big meals and wine tasting. Yesterday as I lay on the bed napping with Brian, I couldn't get this picture out of my head of a scene in my book that desperately needs to be totally rewritten. I realized that if it was so vivid in that moment, that I HAD to just write it, so I got up and went to Brian's laptop to knock out a couple pages. I am deleting something and replacing it with this, and I am really glad. It's a lot better, for various reasons. The thing I am deleting was first conceived so long ago that it really just doesn't belong anymore. A lot of my book is like that and I think a lot of the rewriting will be like that -- things I wrote 9 months ago before the story and characters were fully formed are just going to seem weird now. Oh well. Like I keep saying, it's still fun, so I keep doing it.

And now it's time to go home. Just in time, we'd started to miss the cats. I want to listen to Band of Horses all the way back.

The Pacific Northwest: photos of our trip to WA last week.

A few of my favorites:


me and Quitty at the bar


the place that made me cry a little last Friday


this picture says "rural washington" to me

When we got home, one of the first things I did was get one of my old big boxes down off the shelf in the closet. I wanted to ensure that I did indeed still have my flyer collection. And I do, whew. I have the flyer for my very first punk show, 1/17/92. I have a bunch of Unwound, Jawbreaker, and Screw 32 flyers. I discovered that my band did play with AFI, and that the Gr'ups show I organized was indeed at the Lucky 7 house, not the Central house, and that KARP played as well.

I am going to scan all of these flyers, partially for me and partially for Joshua P.

I dug up a few more photos as well, and of course the prized remains of my zine collection too, which includes Hessian Obsession #1, a large number of Joshua's zines, a bunch of Cometbus issues, and of course every issue of Hex.

It's odd that the Red house is now gray, but is still called the Red house.