Multnomah Falls


Claire took us up to Multnomah Falls today. The "hike" to the view of the falls was... uh... not difficult, and minorly annoyingly occupied by... tourists. Go fig.

You Know You've Found the Right Person


I Love this Man




Three numbers


Last week, Jonathan made a comment about my collecting things. I suspect he made the comment more as an amusing observation than anything else, but it stuck with me. Though I don't collect physical objects, and am back to getting rid of stuff again, I certainly "collect" license plate numbers. I think the collecting of plates is more of an enjoyment of playing with numbers and letters and words, and the traffic I was stuck in when I lived in Los Angeles.

These days, I have found, more often than I would like to admit, that I hesitate to spend money when the currency I'm holding has an interesting number sequence on it. It's rather like chasing the license plate holy grail of two characters, looking at currency serial numbers.

If I ever manage to find one with only two numbers on it, or even one number on it, I'm 100% sure I won't be able to spend it.

Arrived in this foreign land


Jonathan and II have arrived in this strange northern land in a period of white. I shall observe the large male of the native dominant species and report back my findings.

Thus far today, said male seems to spend most of his day near motionless, staring at a large rectangular surface of bright moving lights, wiggling his figures on another surface full of squares. All of the surfaces display a small fruit symbol: based on the number of symbols, I believe the surfaces to be part of a larger shrine to the male's deity. I will need to explore this phenomena further.

The area itself is incredibly cold, below the freezing point of water, covered in a white to black surface that is also cold. I have donned the locals' style of dress to blend in: a fuzzy hood-lined, brown covering filled with the remnants of flying animals' insulation. I have not developed an allergy to the remnants, and appreciate the warmth of covering provides.

I have managed to prod the male into action, including a walk around his dwelling. He seems to enjoy the movement, emitting laughing noises and talking about his administrations on the surfaces with the markings. I shall win his trust and continue with the walks, even though the cold is nearly unbearable.

Arrived in Sydney!


Jonathan and I arrived in Sydney, he somewhat well-rested, I somewhat not-so-well rested. I managed about four hours of airplane sleep, tipped over onto his shoulder. For the record, he has comfortable shoulders. And sleeps like a rock on planes.

What is it with guys I travel with that they can sleep so well on planes?

Excited to be here!


Snook has the way of it


I tell you, Snook totally has the way of this flight. He didn't sleep much last night, choosing to work late and get up early at work last night. He asked me what time it is in Sydney, and decided that the 11 hour flight is perfect for, oh, sleeping.

Me? I'm dumb.

I worked most of this flight. I'm awake at the wrong times, and will probably sleep at the exact worst times.

He's also sleeping with the neck pillow. Smart man. Mostly. He's leaning forward, so I'm not sure how well that pillow is helping out.

He's sleeping.

I'm not.

This is going to be a rough transition, staying awake until 4:00 am and sleeping until noon for the last week not-withstanding.

And we're on our way!


Jonathan and I are heading off to Australia for OSSPAC today. I had asked Kris to take us to the airport, letting him know that if he's home by 2:30, we should be fine. He arrived home just before 2:30, as I frantically gathered the rest of my items, throwing this and that into bags, realizing that I had more stuff than my carryon and personal item bags. I usually sneak on a third bag of food, since food bags aren't considered in the count (and, oh boy, did I have a lot of food with me).

As I gathered my items, Kris stood at the door, becoming more and more agitated. I ran out of the house, bags in hand, shoving them into the truck, and off we went to pick up Snook from work. He was, thankfully, waiting for us at his work's roundabout, so picking him up was easy. Kris was increasingly nervous about getting us to the airport on time.

When he stayed in the right lane, I commented that, no, he didn't want 237 West, he wanted 101 South, he asked me, "What airport are we going to?"

"San Jose."

His whole body relaxed.

Apparently, he had asked me earlier if we were flying out of San Francisco International, and I had grunted yes. The longer it took me to get out of the house, the less and less likely we were going to make our flight.

Fortunately, the 45 minute, really 60 minute in this bad traffic, airport run was actually a 15 minute dropoff, and Kris didn't have to worry too much about our missing our flight. Suddenly my cavilier attitude made sense: we were going to arrive at the airport waaaaaay early.

I tragically planned poorly for tickets, having bought tickets out of Los Angeles instead of SFO. Next time I'll be better about checking for all good times, but this time, meh, Los Angeles, here we come!