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On the road

As some of you know, I spent this weekend driving from Seattle to Santa Barbara and back with Ashley and Nathan. A good time and little sleep were had by all, and we returned with a new tidbit of knowledge: we hate Oregon. Itís more than just the fact that you canít pump your own gas; the state sucks that special brand of ass you won’t find anywhere else on the planet. If my word on the matter isn’t enough, consider the following tale of horror, of revulsion, of Ö

The strangest gas station in Roseburg!

Overall, the trip was great. We met up with Hall and the ultimate frisbee team at Caitlin’s house and spent six or so hours relaxing in sunny Santa Barbara. It was an unjust seventy degrees the whole time we were there, and the air was redolent with flowers and sunshine. Nathan, Ashley, Caitlin and I took on the Pacific, and Ashley almost lost the fight, hanging onto her underwear at the last minute by crossing her ankles. The hypothermia-induced shivering we endured afterwards was well worth the opportunity to body surf in January.

After a quick dinner at a quaint Mexican place, we headed north to Stanford, where I hung out with Lisa and Nathan met up with a friend of his. We watched a bizarre adaptation of Alice in Wonderland by an obscure Czech director, and I learned that Stanford folk exhibit, by and large, the same idiotic manners at movies as the frat boys at UW.

“You pretty much just apply and you’re in,” Lisa explained to me.

We left the next morning around nine, and I slept in the back seat in hopes of delaying my eventual nervous breakdown. I took over around noon, hurtling north across the Shasta Mountains at 95 mph. I’m kind of hoping those “Patrolled by Aircraft” signs were just for show, or else I’m not nearly as clever as I thought and Ashley’s gonna get one hell of a ticket in the mail. We arrived back in Seattle at 10:30, utterly exhausted but (speaking personally here) completely glad we went.

Posted in Musings.


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