so this is the day marc and i, basically, had to be at the airport on the same day. his flight would leave at 1130am and mine at 215pm. regardless, we had to leave salem around 6am. did you hear me? 6! A! M! waking up that early gives me the shit job goosebumps. thank god i quit the drug testing job before it changed my personality, right. moving on. we had to be at the train station before 6:15. i fell asleep on the ride to portland. marc woke me up and i had a migraine and leg cramps.
he asked me which way was west. i pointed it out. i have an unearthly sense of direction. don't even start to tell me you can do it too. "it's the direction of the sun." it's easy." "it's bla bla." no, actually, you're wrong and i'm right. i can figure out north, east, south, west with fully overcast weather. damn, baby, yeah, it's like that. let's just agree i'm better than everyone. right. moving on.
this is where 2 yuck yuck prosti's rolled up to m and asked him the usual. "how's it go?" "you need anything?" as soon as i strolled up they left. on the run to the train, marc pointed out a guy who was getting a blow job underneath the bridge. i stood there watching the whole process. i saw him give her a bill. and unzip his pants. and pull out his pathetic limp dick. and the rest is a kind of disgusting scene i will relagate to future nightmares. marc screamed "G! HURRY! RUN!" so we didn't miss the train to the airport. it's hard running with 30lb bags. although if i imagined i were running away from blue collar blow job guy, bcbj, it made running easier.
B-FAST at the airport. i thought i saw adam brody eating a b-fast burrito there too but doubted myself. why would he be eating at a portland airport?
this pic above is amazing to me. story first: basically, i've been finding out how difficult it is to use a public toilet in a cold state. in albuquerque, you know, you never wear a heavy coat. at least not year round like in this area. you never really have to figure out the intricacies of manuevering around a winter coat. here's the deal. when you get into a toilet stall, as a girl, you've got to strip yourself of your big heavy jackets, big heavy sweaters just so you can comfortably use the toilet. they usually wind up on the floor. gross.
and here all this time, there was a public toilet coat hook. i felt like i were visiting a foreign country.
five hours at the airport. fun. as soon as i got on that plane i kind of passed out and woke up when i heard the pilot slurring the weather conditions of chicago. thirty minutes to landing and i watched as the lights grew closer and more distinct. the grid of chicago's streets expanded into perpendicular and rigidly straight lines outward. occasionally i would spot a frozen backyard pool. grabbed my checked bag and met ash. hug. kiss. hi. hello. we spent the next thirty minutes traveling from the airport to loyola. and arguing about what type of pizza to eat. and how bill got charged double for his train ticket in chicago. and how si dissed the girl at a party in albuquerque last week. and watching conan. and falling asleep after midnight.
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