Well, well.

I like Portland. The night I arrived and was pulling baggage out of J’s car a man biked by and said, “Good evening. Welcome home!” This has pretty much been my experience of Portland. People are laid back and happy to be here, so much so that even though the job market’s oversaturated they are willing to work in coffee shops until they are thirty. The air is crisp here. There are some interesting varieties of plants. You can get a pretty sweet Vietnamese sandwich and coffee sold to you by a wheeling and dealing ten year old girl for three dollars. The local beer is good. The houses have big porches. There are a disproportionate amount of strip clubs, but because its Portland, even the strip clubs have bike parking.

Monday I explored by myself. That night dined and rode around with J and Erika and went to a bar that had PacMan. Several times this past few days I’ve felt the urge to say “Welcome to the USA.” Once was definitely when a round came to $6.75. Yesterday morning J and I rode down by the river and to old China town. Sunny afternoon we took tubes, sandwiches, and a six pack of tall boy PBR’s down the Sandy River. So spectacular and tiring I passed out on a patch of dead grass and forgot where I am. Last night J and Erika cooked some delicious tacos. Erika’s place is so cute reminds me of a little sailboat hatch. I hope I can fine one a quarter as sweet. Last night we drove toured the city and went to a couple of bars. All I wanted was icecream so instead of beer I got icecream in scotch. Brilliant. I’ve had an unequivocally nice set of days.

Up until now this has mostly just felt like a vacation to see friends. This afternoon I head off alone to Oakland/El Cerito all by my lonesome. Last night I started feeling a wee bit tumultuous, but overall I am optimistic. I found an old map of San Francisco yesterday and I plan on coating it with a review and record of all of the taquerias I visit.

Expect phonecalls soon.