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starting to deserve this

November 27, 2013

My favorite book ever contains a passage in which the aged patriarch has committed a grave faux pas by stating loudly over a gracious supper table, in the presence of a man who cannot return to his home in Poland due to world war two political pressures, that ‘if one has a home one should stick to it.’ He is immediately scolded by both wife and son, who are shocked at his lack of feeling and ashamed by his want of worldliness. Refusing to back down, he defends himself further by listing off the great figures he has seen in each of his travels to countries other than his own, and winds up by saying ‘and then I got home to London and saw the first british bobbie and thanked my stars.’

This is how I feel whenever I go on trips.

I went to Seattle and I saw agreeable drunk navy ferry takers, I went to New York and saw a life sized Elmo, I went to Denver and saw more Broncos attire than even I am wont to admire, and then I got home and I saw the first hipster dude out jogging in tight ass old man slacks cut off short shorts, and I thanked my stars. I am home.

Denver was a fabulous time; but Denver was apallingly cold. I thought I had experienced cold before, but now I see that I was mistaken. I don’t believe I have used the word ‘frigid’ over often in my Portland based life, but now I know that every time I have used it I have used it in error. Portland does not know frigid. Portland is a beautiful buttercup of warmth and softness even when it is snowing.

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I do not know how they do this, but they make one thing quite clear to me: pansies are not to be trifled with, and pansy is not a strong enough name to describe myself in reference to the same cold these ones are experiencing.

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This is a cool old barn that was turned into some art spaces in downtown Loveland. We did not go in, but we did go and buy Priscilla some cat paraphernalia down the block.

The main thing I loved about Colorado was the sky. SO. MUCH. SKY.

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Image On the drive to the airport I spent about ten minutes staring at a spot just above the horizon that appeared to be circular and hovering. It looked immediately to me like a hot air balloon, but I have been disappointed before by those water towers that look like sperms, and so I held myself in reserve this time. Turns out: hot air balloon!

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My faith in the world is not completely restored by this, but I do resent those water towers a lot less.

I am

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