Back from Portland. A nice trip. Just hitting the road, staying in motel rooms, and eating cheap diner food was a nice vacation. Somewhat grueling, seven hours a day driving. Which doesn’t sound like that much. When I was younger, I might have driven 14 hours straight. Harder with Olivia in the back seat. She was great. Played hide and seek in motel rooms. On the way back she got sick--threw up on herself beneath Mt. Shasta.
It was the closest thing I’ve done to a rock tour in a long time, except with my wife and child. The reading at Powells went well. I read the story I wrote last week. If it failed, I could say, it’s brand new, it hasn’t even been through a revision. But people seemed to like it, they laughed, which is basically the only way to tell if people are paying attention. No pictures from the reading, so far as I know. Here’s a generic picture of Powells:
Took Olivia to the Children’s Museum in Portland. Went to Lewis and Clark College where I spent my freshman year. Olivia got to see snow for the first time in her life, at a rest stop.
We’ve thought about moving to Portland. Cheaper rent, fewer L.A. people. It’s a beautiful city. In L.A., everything’s five times harder than it needs to be--even just going to the supermarket. This city can seem against you if you’re not careful. It can be a 45 minute drive to my brother who doesn’t live that far away. You can get your head around a place like Portland. Cept that would mean leaving family to be in a place where we don’t know many people, don’t have jobs, and don’t have a place to live. We’re really just entertaining the thought, which is good those days when we feel Los Angeles hates us. I think we’ve got more L.A. living in us. We still want to make a home here.
I am tired.
I could have blogged from the road but I wanted to have a vacation from the computer. It’s good to be back.
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