Welcome to...Not Washington

First, a note on the timing of this blog. Most of this blog is retrospective because Tricia has a computer that doesn't charge and can't pick up internet signals, and Sam forgot her computer charger in Seattle. Of course. This is Gift of the Magi-style blogging. From now on we'll just be pretending things. Our tenses might get confused--past, present, we're not really sure...so just bear with us, loves.

So now pretend it is Wednesday. We are in Olympia. The sky is white. It is freezing. We have just driven for 3 hours in traffic with almost no visibility and lots of falling rain. And splashing rain. And we went out last night in the rain in the international district which felt like a haunted house. No matter, Sam the barista made us chai lattes for the road (skim and dirty soy) and blessed us by claiming that the VW Rabbit GTI is her favorite car ever (she likes the '84 diesel, but whatevs). This is important because Sam the barista is Sam the W.H.'s hero. She never gets wet. She smiles and it's a rainbow. And she speaks. And she breathes. We want to be Sam. Even if she was beaver damming* Tricia while T was attempting to land an ODS** at the coffee shop. Sam also suggested we stay at truck stops along the way, because "they have really good food and everyone's really nice." We are skeptical.

In Olympia, we have two cute teenage boys to eat veggie burgers and play Scrabble with. It is mostly a farm-themed Scrabble game with lots of fruits and animals--until Si made "peril" and "caned" closely followed. We are sucking on honey sticks, which Tricia has dubbed "dope honeys."

Graeme and Si are the cousins of Sam's ex (broken up only 3 weeks prior) and we are sleeping at their house. Their momma Grace made us rice with masala sauce and we watched the Olympics and Tricia noticed that the American runner Sheena had a hot muffin top of muscles--Check it out! We slept on the floor. (Ed: "I slept on the couch."--Tricia).

So, yeah. Olympia was rainy. And fucking freezing. Like January, we swear. We were not totally loving life in Washington. And Washington was not totally loving us. If you loved us in Washington, we love you. But generally in Seattle we kept getting screwed over. Boo. We also went to every Target in the state which wasn't Sam's dream come true. But today (Thursday), we crossed a magical bridge to a land called Oregon. The sky cleared immediately, and, mid-bridge, a song came on. A singer sang. He said, "I can see clearly now. The rain is gone. All of my bad feelings have disappeared."

Johnny Nash foretold it: We were destined for a great future.

Or at least warmer temperatures and no more rain.

We pulled in to Portland and parked next to a restaurant called "Virgo Pisces." Pisces Virgo Rising? Also, a very good sign. We shall see.


*Beaver Dam (n. or v.) 1. A person who steps in the way and prevents a lady from hookin' up. 2. To get in the way of a friend's hookup, such as to prevent it from happening. See the male equivalent cock block.

**ODS (n.) This is an acronym for One Day Stand. Similar to a one night stand, a one day stand involves an afternoon of casual sex, after which, both parties agree not to stay in contact. This was suggested by Tricia as a time-saving device. This hypothesis is yet to be tested. A word from Sam: When attempting an ODS, it is a good idea to make sure everyone involved knows that your intentions are purely sexual and one-time-only. Westward Hoes do not encourage playin' or hurting people when they do their hoein'!