going to the ocean

Despite my efforts at cleaning my apartment, something in it persists in enraging Samantha's out-of-control allergies. Be it mold, spores, or fungi, I'm not sure which, she is unable to spend more than a half an hour in it without starting to cough and wheeze. So for the better part of a week I've taken up residence at her apartment in order for me to maintain my desired proximity to her and to mooch her highspeed internet. The advantages of this arrangement are numerous, the least of which is that my own apartment continues to remain clean so long as I am not there to fuck it all up. Since I've been at Sam's though, my already disjointed hours have become even more contorted. Thanks to daylight savings time, I've now gone completely nocturnal, save for the few daylight hours i've spent attending class and hanging out with my sister and todd (in from Arizona for Todd to lecture at the university formerly known as SWT). Also unlike at my own place, Sam's pantry actually has food in it and I've found myself frequently grazing in her bounty, one eye on the slice of german chocolate cake the other screwed up nervously at my subtly returning paunch. Aside from hanging out with Samantha, I've been filling my nights drinking coffee, watching bad movies and blog-reading, especially Portland-based blogs as I have gotten it in my head to visit there despite the low rating it got on my best places list (San Francisco was number one). My guess is that it was probably recently seeing "the subconscious art of graffiti removal" again and the Fodor's Pacific Northwest that I found at a thrift store that sparked my interest. Any city billed as a "walker's paradise" seems at least worth investigating. Plus it gets me that much closer to Canada and should I denounce my American citizenship (Bush victory '04), closer to all that sweet sweet government filmmaking dough. *love, r.