my father has a way of planning family vacations so that relaxation is impossible. everyday has an itinerary which begins no later than 8 am. we are required to spend 1/2 of the day in the backseat of the car, 1/4 of the day in some sort of brewery, and the other 1/4 is reserved for a hike/sight-seeing. i have seen some pretty country while being dragged across the pacific northwest, but my stomach is upset, my face is zitted, and my back has more knots than a bored sailor. oy!
the trip began friday at 5 am, a time which grew 10 times more frustrating when we realized our plane had been delayed by 2 hours and we didn't have to leave Boonville til closer to 8. i got some good reading in (Murakami is one hell of a storyteller), but it didn't calm me enough to get my past my fear of bombs on planes. no, i don't mean actual explosives, but the looming, destructive threats people seem to become on planes. an old lady could die at any minute. a fat man sitting near you could smell. a baby could cry. a 12-year-old girl could talk to you. anyone and everything around you on a plane is suspect, and there's no escaping it til you land. and the snacks weren't even that good.
oregon, thank god, is gorgeous. a very foresty ireland, imo. since our arrival, we've gone to the coast (where i fell in love with an indian woman and a 6-year-old boy), seen too many waterfalls, and essentially lived in a car. lots of fresh seafood has been had, which is a treat, but free, delicious food seems like a fair trade for putting up with the Conway sense of humor. at least i got a legitimate escape when I met up with Tony Lam and his (*cough cough*) friend Nick. Tony was, as always, a doll, and Nick also works with international students, so I got to meet up with some of his (who were deliciously plucky women in their 40s). We ate great food, drank wine, and learned/caught up.
much more has happened, but i find myself growing too tired to continue. perhaps it's the 7 ams and the driving and the hiking. catch up with you lovelies later.