Make home of the road, but don't make the road your home.

I've just arrived in Portland, I feel tired. I have no funds to speak of, which doesn't bother me, at least I think it doesn't. It is difficult to tell for sure though. I don't mind not having, I just don't like to not being able to be doing things because of that lacking. Pshhhhhh, I'm being silly.

My last few weeks have been full of adventure. It all started with a crazy group of musicians by the name of HumanLab. The swept through SB one night while I was pedicabbing and I left with them the very next day, playing mandolin in their band. We stormed up to SLO and Santa Cruz, meeting and staying with awesome people along the way. When we turned back around I ventured with them all the way to Huntington Beach, their home base, before we struck out once more through the south coast making it all the way up to San Francisco. I decided that I needed to get off the van at this point because A. I didn't really feel like heading all the way back to Huntington, which was their plan and B. I had make a pact with myself saying that I was going to go to Oregon, and I can't lie to my heart. Conveniently my friend Lauren was celebrating her 21st birthday in a short time so I spent the next few days hanging with her before taking part in a wild night of limo riding and complimentary bar drinks. I got a bunch of make up put on for the event, amazing the response you can get from a little orange eye shadow. The day after the party I met up with Maria, my newly found traveling buddy for the trip up to Portland. Maria has taught me many things so far, one being that coops are awesome and another being that dual tandem bikes can be frightening. Together we made our way around SF on a 'ghost tour' and hopped on a ferry to get over to Larkspur to meet up with our ride north. Kory, our driver to be, and his girlfriend Sasha were a fantastic couple. After we'd had a couple of beers at the local brew pub we went back to their place at which point they launched into an extremely long winded debate of Atlas Shrugged. She loves it, he hates it; it was a beautiful thing. On the ride up, Kory, Maria and I were joined by a man who I have decided to call God Man but was actually named Brett. He earned his title by relating every story topic to an experience with God, impressive if you think about it. Other than that the ride wasn't unusually eventful, though it was long. After 9 hours of being car bound we pulled up in front of Emma's haunted love mansion in Portland and made our way in and onto the couch. Kory continued on to Seattle do his business type stuff but Emma, Maria, and I rallied ourselves for a 4 mile round trip dumpster hunt. Come on guys! The pizza is on the house!

As I have just said aloud to my house mates, I'm a bit antsy. Is it the result of hours of cardom? Or is it something else, hard to say really. What am I doing up here one might ask? I don't know. There are some mandolin lessons I'm interested if I can find a little money. There are also harmony singing classes that sound like a lot of fun if I can only find the funds. Lets walk all the way out on the limb and bring to light the bar tending school I would like to attend for a couple weeks. One day I will learn what it means to plan ahead, until then I'll just keep doing what I do.

If anyone has any Portland adventure that they'd like to hear/see lived out, do tell me about it and I'll get right on it as I have plenty of time. Hopefully some of the upcoming stories shall included playing the streets of Portland, hitting up the Oregon Country Fair and the High Sierra Music Festival, and moving into an attic here at the haunted love mansion. Keep it incredible.