Seriously. Portland, Seattle... sibling cities. Not just sister cities, I'm pretty sure neither city would admit to that... but well, Portlanders treat Seattle kinda like your annoying sib - you tease it and beat up on it sometimes, make fun of it and try to get it to stop following you or to let you play in its games... but if anyone ELSE dares attack it, boom, you're there to the bitter end defending it.

So we are sibling cities with Seattle. It's kinda cool. "Seattle's Best Coffee" has survived on the streets of Portland, while joints like "Boston Market" haven't. Why? Sibs stick up for each other, y'know?

I was thinking, and I'd really only ever want to live in Portland or in Seattle, I don't want to leave Oregon/Washington... Canada is nice, maybe someday I'll find reasons to be there... but Oregon's home. Specificalll this whole coastal northwest thing... salt in the air when the wind is right, trees everywhere, temperatures that rarely go above 75... this is where I live. This is where I WANT to live... I am happy here.

Anyway... vicodin. It took me six phone calls and four hours to get my vicodin refilled. That's nuts. N-V-T-S nuts, as a line from some movie goes... is it Mel Brooks, that history of the world movie? Hmm... doesn't matter.

What DOES matter is - and I will be saying this for weeks - You should watch Plunkett and McClain. You really should. *grin* I can't see enough of that movie... I WANT that purple hat...

Gods. Vicodin... I love this shit... I really am addicted, addicted to the lack of pain, to the lack of stress, to the happy floaty feeling and the knowledge that for a couple hours, I WON'T hurt.

It's rare, not hurting... but then again, I got to see Beth naked, I got my new movie, I am here and alive and online... so even with the pain, I guess life is ok.