Thread the Needle

We got to Seattle nice and early, so we decided to go do touristy stuff. Joe, Lotje, Rob, Andrew, Ross and I decided to go to the Space Needle, where we paid the $16 to go up and look around. I had been up once before on a trip to Seattle with my mom, but it was nice to see it again. The day was fairly cool and crisp and the view of the Olympics to the West, the Cascades to the East, Mt. Baker to the North and some other mountain to the South was unobstructed and really quite breathtaking. By the time we’d all gotten down and we met up with Bora and Zubin again, it was time to go to the venue. However, being hungry, we thought we’d get some food first. Lotje, Joe, Rob, Andrew and I went to a Greek place at the foot of the Needle that was quite tasty. I had the falafel and it was fair. Not as good as the pita place we went to in Phoenix, and a far cry from the deliciousness that was a La Villa pita, but it was passable.

After dinner and some wandering, we headed off to Nectar, the venue for our Seattle show. Nectar is a pretty cool place with a capacity of 450. There’s a modest floor section, which, for our show, was alcohol free, and an ample balcony that wraps around two sides of the upstairs. The stage is located across from the balcony and is raised about 36” off the main floor, and there’s a monitor world/DJ position SR, between the stairs to get up on to the stage and the stage. I wish now that I’d taken more pictures, because it’s rather difficult to describe. The main sound booth was located across the main floor (roughly 25’ away from the downstage edge) and was also raised 3-4 feet. You access the booth via a precarious and narrow set of 3 stairs. It’s a miracle I didn’t smash my face, considering how many times I jumped up and down those steps.

The Greenroom at Nectar’s was a real trip. I guess this is a case of space maximization, but I never thought I’d see a green room in a trailer outside of a big rock festival.


(looks creepier than it is). I didn’t get a shot of the inside, but it was quite nicely appointed once you got used to the idea that you were in a trailer.

Nectar’s sound guy, Brian, is a fellow masshole and a pleasure to work with, he did a yeoman’s work on the monitors while I mixed it up at FOH. People seemed to think we were twins or something. I guess the fact that Nectar had really low lighting was part of it. What do you think?


Brian and I looked similar enough, at least, that my Aunt Peg, who came to the show with my Uncle Chris, tried to get his attention with my name. Obviously, that didn’t really turn out so well.

Speaking of my Aunt and Uncle, it was great to see them. They live a little ways outside of Seattle, so it was really nice of them to show up. Unfortunately, we didn’t connect until the Tally guys were about to go on, and I had a bunch of work to do after the show, so we didn’t really get to hang out at all. It’s hard having friends/family at shows. You never get to hang out with anyone and you’re left feeling like you’ve been a jerk. Of course, it’s hard for most people to be a host to friends at work, I imagine.

Our opening band tonight was a Seattle “supergroup” according to Seattlest. They were called “Awesome.” Awesome was, well, quite awesome. They had great stage presence, getting some for serious gut laughs out of the audience, and playing a really cool brand of multicultural power pop. Someone from the Tally Hall crew got a hold of their cd, and it’s been in consistent rotation on the van stereo. I think I liked the live show more than I like the cd, but they’re both worth checking out.

Tally put on a pretty good show this night, including house bringer downers Freebird and Praise You. Here are some pictures:





The acoustic set was extremely well received tonight, as well. My FOH position was pretty well positioned for some good overhead shots. Here are a few:


Joe, Lotje and I took the van back across town to our hotel and decided to turn in, since our drive to Provo was going to be a long one. Sleep came easily and wakefulness came too soon.

Home Again

We left San Francisco fairly early on the third and drove all day. Between Weed, CA and Salem, OR were some of the most beautiful vistas I had ever seen. We climbed high, high in the mountains and the dropped out of them into a gorgeous valley. I didn’t take any pictures because I drove pretty much from just North of Weed to Portland. We left San Fran around 10am and they dropped me at my house in Portland at around midnight.

Home

I walked into the house and made a little noise, not sure how the B-DOSC would great me. Mind you, I wasn’t afraid he’d growl or snarl, that’s not his style. Rather, I was nervous I’d get the same treatment I did the first time I left him at home.

In March ’06 4-5 weeks after I’d adopted Billy, I went to Austin to visit my buddies Evan and Brandon. I’d planned the trip before I got the dog and I was excited to see a new city. Leaving Billy with my friend—and one half of Porchlandia—Tom Wunderlich. Tom took excellent care of the dog, taking him up to Mt. Hood to frolic with other dogs and swim in a lake. It was Tom, as a matter of fact, who first brought Billy’s love affair with water and swimming to my attention. The night of my return from Austin, I went and picked up Billy from Tom’s. Black dog gave me the saltiest, most heartbreaking look I’ve ever seen, as if to say “Oh, it’s you again. D’you really think you can just waltz in and out of my life like this?”

Maybe I was projecting my guilt over leaving, but Billy certainly seemed to avoid close contact with me until he decided I wasn’t going anywhere. I don’t leave town very often, so the Billy’s not really used to me disappearing for long periods of time. Thankfully, he was ecstatic to see me. When I walked in the door, Billy came wagging out of my bedroom, where he’d been sleeping, and wagged so hard that he threw himself onto my feet in the living room. We wrassled and rolled around on the living room carpet for 15-20 minutes before I took him outside for a little walk and play.

After some Billy time, I got a call from my housemate Vance and we went next door for a drink. Eventually, we were joined by my housemate, Will. Will is a production assistant and sound guy at the Crystal Ballroom.

The Basement

After a few drinks, Vance left us for bed, so we all bid goodbye to Andrew, my personal favorite Basement Pub bartender, and Will and I left for the front porch, where we shared a few beers until around 2:30am, when it was time for bed. I woke up the next morning in my own bed and played with the dog. It felt great to be home.

Around 10am, Fidel Gastro and I went to breakfast at Genie’s to celebrate his birthday. I can’t for the life of me remember what we ate or drank, but we had a nice time sitting in the sun shooting the shit and arguing about pretty girls. I resolved to continue my F of R celebration, but never got to the store to make it happen.

I made a quick trip to the sound company to say hello to some people. Talked for a bit with Pete and Dave and snagged a roll of spike tape so we could be sure of where Ross’ drums would end up. It was surprisingly uncomfortable to be back in the place where I’ve spent so many hours laboring and being frustrated. I can safely say that I do not miss 85% of it. The other 15%, though, is precious. We do really fun work some of the time.

Later in the day, I met up with Rosen for coffee and we had a pretty nice time rapping. Rosen is one of the most skilled conversationalists I know. This quality made him infuriating to have in a conference class, but also makes him one of my favorite people to hang out with. I always seem to learn something interesting from Mike. This time, I learned that karma is a bitch. Mike dumped off his bike the day after having a tiff with some drunk asshole. Unfortunately, he effed up his ankle, so he was hobbling a little bit. Nevertheless, Rosen was in good spirits and hooked me up with a book of Hemingway short stories, which I’ve already begun, in defiance of my attempts to stay faithful to one book at a time.

Around the end of my trip to Tiny’s w/Rosen, Fidel Gastro arrived and was kind enough to ferry me to the Roseland for our show tonight. I’m on tour, still, remember? I had almost forgotten, myself. I showed up a little early and, as I was walking up to the venue I received a call from Lotje saying that she and the band were en route from the Nike company store, but that they would be 15-20 minutes late. Fortunately, I had brought my iPod, so I EQ’d the PA to some Robert Randolph (Ain’t Nothing Wrong With That is my favorite track, but the whole Colorblind record is a well produced sonic soul assault) and made nice with Mike, the house guy. It’s really odd that we’d never met before that day, especially in a city with such a small crew community. It was certainly a pleasure to have such an attentive tech available to satisfy my every whim and desire. The gear at the Roseland Grill, though old, was well suited to the room and functioned to my satisfaction with a little bit of tweaking.

The band showed up after a while and after we dumped the trailer and set up the backline, Mike and I went through the wedges and made ‘em sound good. Although the drumfill was a bit of a challenge, I managed to get a nice push of air with each kick of the bass drum. After my “number-calling routine,”* the band took the stage and did a couple of songs. I futzed a little bit and we got done in time to get some food and go to Powell’s for books. I guided a few people up to Powell’s books on Burnside. Powell’s City of Books is one of the largest independent bookstores in the country, occupying almost an entire city block 4-5 stories high with nothing but books.

I decided I’d better avoid Powell’s to keep my suitcase light, so I went on to the Crystal to catch up with my buddies. As I turned the corner at 14th and Burnside, my heart started fluttering the way it does as I walk into my parents’ living room. The Crystal is really my home away from home. I would consider everyone on the production crew at the Crystal a close personal friend. Those of us lucky enough to work there are truly blessed by the humor, caring and loyalty of the people we work with. Few other places make me feel so comfortable.

I said hello to Spencer, the assistant production manager; Jay Podie, the hosp guy; Ben, the stage manager; and my housemate Will. I also got to spend a little time rapping with Dug Carnie, March Fourth’s sound guy. Dug and I met when I was doing sound for Heroes and Villains at the M4 birthday party 2 (has it only been that long?) years ago. Dug is an old school hippy with a couple of monster dreads and is really easy to talk to and geek out with. He used to do sound for a jam band called Leftover Salmon. Dug is the perfect guy to do sound for March Fourth because he is, for all intents and purposes, unflappable. He’s used to not soundchecking and is better able to go with the flow than just about any other sound guy I know. Also, he makes M4 sound huge.

After a little while hanging out at the Crystal, I went back to my tour world and the Roseland. It was truly odd to be so clearly in between two worlds, my home bubble and the circus of the road. When I got back to the Roseland, it was as though I had never been home. I hung out and messed around on the internet in the greenroom and kicked around until the openers were done. I came up and helped the opening band get off stage, something I’ve taken to doing on this tour to expedite our set change. Plus, it feels like good karma to help other people get their job done more quickly. As Mike rewired the stage, I went back to the FOH console and, for the first time in quite a while, I didn’t have to redo my channels from charts.

My best friend, Dan, and his girlfriend, Erin came to the show and stood in the back. It was really nice to see them, even though it was only for a few moments. It’s hard to be both a good host and a good soundguy. I really wanted to have a real conversation with Dan and Erin, but I also have to be attentive to do my job. I think they understood; Dan’s a sound guy who wised up and got a job in the financial sector. Good on him. At least I have someone who can give me advice on how to invest my meager soundguy money. My buddy Morgan also showed up. Morgan is one of a kind, a hilarious dude with what can only be described as a “can-do” attitude. He hung out for the whole show and even bought me a beer after we’d gotten mostly packed.

After packing the van and enjoying some dash amazing desserts provided by a very dedicated pair of Tally Hall fans, we headed for the Crystal Ballroom and arrived just in time to see the second set of March Fourth’s birthday show. It sounded great and I think the band really enjoyed themselves. For those of you who don’t know, March Fourth is a punk rock marching band. In the four last years, they’ve become a Portland institution. There are roughly 30 people in the band itself, but they also travel with stiltwalkers, acrobats, dancers and all other manner of circus crazies. The first big show I mixed was at the Wonder Ballroom on March Fourth’s birthday in 2006. Check them out.

Around 12:30 or 1, we gathered up the band and Lotje and returned to the East side. I decided to go home, while the band went to Voodoo Donuts. I met up with Fidel Gastro and his ladyfriend at the Basement for a few beers and snarky conversation. A fitting end to my happytimes in Portland.

*Thanks to Rob, Tally Hall’s singer/guitarist, for this delightful turn of phrase.

Sound Monkey Section #1: Input Devices

Taking a page out of the book of Rat, I’m going to geek out a little bit. If you’re not interested, there should be normal people posts up in a few days.

When I picked out the gear I’d travel with for this tour, I geared it toward the types of venues we’d be playing, small places where each band member would probably have one wedge monitor and phantom power could not be counted on. Ordinarily, I’m not that much of a gear snob, I'm not unwilling to try gear that has a bad reputation (e.g. Mackie, Beringer). Rather, since we were going to be in lots of different kinds of venues, I wanted to be able to hold as many of the variables constant as I could. Therefore, I’m carrying a full compliment of DI’s, a drum mic pack and, thanks to a recent shipment from Sennheiser, all of our vocal mics.

For drum mics, I’ve got an Audix d6 for the kick, Audix d2, d3 and d4 for the toms, a Shure beta57 for the snare, and a matched pair of Røde NT-5s for overheads or hi hat.


I really like the sound of the D6, it’s got plenty of thump while also retaining a nice high end definition that's more of a snap than a click. I learned a new trick at the Troubadour; Frank, one of the house sound guys, showed me that you can get a surprisingly good kick sound by just laying the D6 inside of the kick drum.



The tom mics, however, are sometimes a bit of a challenge. The d2, d3 and d4 sound good enough, but the clamp mounts that Audix provides with them aren’t really up to snuff as far as I’m concerned. Where my snare mic clamps down with a big hunk of latex-sheathed rolled steel, the toms are held to the rim of the drums by a spring and a couple of pieces of hard plastic. Also, the goosenecks seem to drift a lot.


The beta57 is a great mic for snare, it gets a nice snap and is pretty much indestructible. I like the sound of the sm57 a tad more, but for Ross’ kit I think the beta was the best choice, since it grabs a little more “spang” from the snare drum and, on gigs where we don’t have a hi hat mic, its supercardioid pattern picks up just enough of the hi hat to make me happy. I use an LP claw to clamp the microphone directly to the drum, rather than relying on mic stands.

The Rode NT-5s haven’t gotten very much use so far. I used one as a hi hat mic in San Diego, but there weren’t enough working mic cables in the club to accommodate our channels so I ditched it in favor of Rob’s vocal.

While I hadn’t used the Sennheiser e935s we’re rocking before this tour (and had actually had a negative experience with the e835s), I was eager to try them since I’d heard them used to great effect with Robert Randolph and the Family Band. The 935 has a nice clean vocal sound and cuts quite well in a loud room, as today’s was. It’s also pretty snazzy looking.



I've also got a bunch of Whirlwind IMP passive DIs. I don't particularly like the IMPs but, because a lot of songs depend on samples, it was important that I be sure to have working DIs.


I’m also carrying a workbox, which contains:
iPod charger and signal cables
XLR and ¼” adapters
Solder and soldering iron
Vice grips, pliers, jeweler’s screwdrivers, Allen set
Edison outlet tester (mouse)
Multitester
Edison ground lifts
Purple custom folder with cutsheets and setlists
Headphones
Aleve

Booty and the Beast

We had a fairly long drive on short sleep to make it to the show today at The Rickshaw Stop in San Francisco. After finishing load-out from the Troubadour around 2am, I drove the van back to the hotel, where we had a little adventure finding parking. Turns out the LA marathon is today and the street we were going to park on had become a dead end due to marathon preparations. Cool, huh? (Warning: Not cool)

Turning the van and trailer around on the narrow street with cars parked on both sides was not an easy proposition. Luckily, with an assist from a really nice security guard for the hotel and Lotje, our superstar TM, and a creative interpretation of the traffic laws, I got us parked in a nice spot right in front of the hotel, pointed out of the one-way.

By the time we all piled out of the van and made it up to our rooms it was close to 2am. Lotje and I, still pretty excited about the Troubadour gig, hung out in our room for a bit and had a drink. It was nice to unwind a little bit after a hectic but stressful day.

Our alarm went off at 6:30 this morning and we were all out of our rooms and on the road by 7:15am. Go us. Blech. Not much to say about the drive from LA to SF, except that it was pretty long and boring. I didn’t get any pictures of the trip because my camera rode in my gig bag from last night. There are some really spectacular wind farms as you get close to SF. The view from the Bay Bridge was lovely, it was a bright, warm, clear day, so we could see Alcatraz, the Golden Gate Bridge and a bunch of other stuff I didn’t recognize.

We arrived in town about an hour before load-in and checked into the hotel. San Francisco was the show I’d been anticipating the most because Rachel, my special lady, lives in Berkeley. It’d been almost 6 weeks since she visited me in Portland and I was starting to go through some serious Rachel withdrawal. She met us at the hotel before load-in and accompanied us for the rest of the day until she and I were able to steal away and have some romance time. It’s always weird to include an outsider in a well-oiled machine like ours (warning: irony), but my lady is an expert at being quietly supportive on gigs and staying out of the way.

Load-in went quickly and we got pretty much set while Tilly and the Wall soundchecked. The house sound guys were incredibly nice. Waldo and Freeway were really accommodating about our extra inputs and vocals and even moved Tilly and the Wall’s backdrop to allow facilitate the projection portion of the show. Tilly and the Wall’s show involves a lot of tapdance, including a multi-mic’d tap platform placed where a drum riser would normally go.

While I think the tap platform is a really cool idea, their inability to remove it from the stage, or even to move it to one side, made our setup a little complicated. Ross set his drumkit stage right and everyone shifted around. Tally Hall definitely is an exception to the bands who seem to need to have everything the consistent night in and night out in order to have a good show; they adapted beautifully to the changed lineup and played an awesome show. Although they went without playing the acoustic portion, normally my favorite time since it presents the band without the security blanket/intermediary of a sound system or real lighting, I enjoyed the show and was mostly satisfied with the job I did. The new vocal mics are awesome. They cut through the mix as well as advertised and have a slightly reduced proximity effect, so that, unlike an SM58, for example, changing your distance from the microphone doesn’t result in sweeping low-end shift.

Our soundcheck went well enough and fairly quickly, and Bora got our deads stashed in the back room so by the time doors were open we were all ready to go. I charted my channels—or at least I thought I did (more on that later)—and we got our wristbands and bailed. Rachel and I went on a nice walk through the neighborhood surrounding Rickshaw Stop and had a little snack before the show. It feels odd to have to catch up with someone with whom I’ve been so close. Seems like we should just each know what the other is up to. Catching up was good, though, and I’m thankful for every moment we had together over the last two days.

When we got back to the venue, I ran into the guys from Capgun Coup, whom we’d shard a date with in Phoenix. Turns out my old friend Becca is their contact with their label, Team Love. They say she said to say hi. So I say a virtual “hi” back. What’s more, they said she’d be in Austin with them for SXSW in a few days. It’ll be nice to see her again, since it’s been almost 3 years, I think.

The show sounded great out front, I’m starting to get into a rhythm with the show and I’ve have quite a solid feel for how I want the band to sound. The stage sound was apparently a little problematic, since it sounds like I may have mis-charted a couple of important channels Ross needed. Luckily, we got things pretty much worked out by the third song, thanks to some ace running by Bora.

After the show, Waldo, who owns the Rickshaw, helped us get our load-out on through a back-alley door. Everyone pitched in and the van was loaded about 15 minutes after the band got offstage. Most of us piled in and went off in search of parking. Unfortunately, we were turned away several times before we ended up throwing in the towel and driving back to the hotel only to walk back to the venue. Thankfully, there was plenty of parking and a quick hand flapping maneuver by Zubin saved the last double-spot in the hotel lot.

Rachel gets the patience award for waiting out our 45 minute long journey from the alley behind the club back inside. Yeah, my baby’s saintly. After we finished up a couple of last bits of business at the club, Rachel and I headed for dinner. We went to a pizza place called Patxi’s, where Rachel and I had an excellent meal. The pizza was thick-crust Chicago style worthy of Florian in Hyde Park. We both drank Lagunitas Pale Ale. Lagunitas beer is one of a few truly consistent microbrews. I think every one of their beers I’ve had has been excellent. We started with a greek salad, which must have had eight dollars worth of red bell peppers in it. For our pizza, we chose a “special,” which comes topped sausage, mushrooms, peppers and onions. It took a while for our pizza to come, but it was nice to spend a little while gazing into each other’s eyes longingly. The staff was quite nice, smiling and joking both among themselves and with us. It’s nice to have moments of feeling at home even when you’re on the road. Being with my special lady and being treated like old friends by our servers really made my evening. Unfortunately, since I’d slept about 3 hours the night before, by 10 I was pretty much exhausted and started falling asleep at the table. Rachel took the lead and whisked us out and that’s where the story part ends until this morning.

We woke up this morning at around 8 and went to coffee around the corner from our hotel. Unfortunately, I’ve forgotten the name of the place, but it was quite nice. The coffee was passable, and worlds better than the Folger’s we’ve seen elsewhere. The croissant and muffin I had were delicious. It’s hard to put into words how nice it was to spend time with my special lady. Breakfast reminded me of a lot of happy Portland mornings last spring. At around 9:45, we headed back to the hotel to check out and say goodbye. That part sucked. And continues to suck. I miss my special lady a whole lot.

I’m listening to Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit as I type this on the way to Portland. I did sound for these guys a few weeks before I left home and I really like the music. Jason Isbell was, until just recently, a member of Drive By Truckers. He’s a ripping guitar player and a talented songwriter. Thanks be to Travis for the cd.

Not too many pics today, unfortunately. I need to get better at documenting stuff, but it all seems to pass so quickly that I end up being involved in the action rather than photographing it. Here’s a photo of Rachel’s and my ghetto hotel room, complete with biohazard needle container. Yeah. It was that kind of hotel.

Don't mess with the needle and the spoon, take your trips to the moon, they'll take you away.
-Ronnie Van Zant

Slick Rock

During our two days there, I came away with a mixed impression of LA; on the one hand we had a great time with some nice people and a successful time at a rock show, and on the other I couldn’t help but be overwhelmed with the sheer volume of tools I ran into. Perhaps it was the neighborhoods we visited, but LA felt overwhelmingly populated by tool-ish people. Rosen ensures me that this is not a completely accurate depiction of the city of Angels, but I’ll believe it when I see it.

We went out to dinner with a bunch of Michigan transplants on Friday night. At around 6:30, the band’s friend B.J. came by with a video treatment for them to go over. After they had discussed it, a bunch of us jumped in BJ’s car, while the rest of the party grabbed a taxi to the restaurant BJ had picked, Mexicali.

The appetizers at Mexicali are the real standout. From the tortilla chips and pico de gallo, to the cocktail shrimp and empanadas, the pre-meal experience was excellent. For my entrée, I had a Kobe beef enchilada, which was seriously lacking in tasty. It felt as though it had been sitting under the warming lamp for a bit too long, the tortilla was really dry and the beans and rice were tepid at best. I think if I were to be back in LA with money to burn, I would go to Mexicali for drinks and then somewhere else for the real meal. I have to give major props to Mexicali’s staff for handling our party of 16 with aplomb. They kept us fed, watered and boozed up, and handled our slow ordering on a busy night with a firm hand, but without being cross.

The venue we played in LA was the Troubadour, a club with a whole lot of history. Tom Waits, Carole King, Joan Baez, James Taylor, GnR, and Jackson Browne all got started there. The club holds about 500 people and is probably one of the better-equipped venues of its size in the country. The gear is all high quality and was state of the art back in the late ‘90s. The staff is super professional; it’s obvious they put on rock shows a lot. Their sound guys Bobby and Frank were super nice and accommodating, though they work a little faster than I’m used to so that took a little bit of adjustment. Mike, the house manager was nice, going so far as to park our van for the load-out so I could stay inside and continue packing up.


It was pretty cool getting to hang out in the green room at the Troubadour. When I think of all of the bands who have come through that club over the years (GnR, QOTSA, Incubus, Weezer, and almost all of the hair bands), I’m impressed by how much the rock and roll lifestyle must have changed. Instead of lining up to do rails of blow off groupies asses or shooting up in the bathroom, we lined up to plug in our laptops, and shot photos with fresh-faced fans.




For dinner, the band, Bora, a gaggle of fans and I went to a place called Burger Haven, which is only a few blocks from the venue. Burger Haven is housed in a ramshackle ‘50s or ‘60s shack with Dairy Queen colors. It feels like it should be at a crossroads in some small town instead of on Santa Monica Blvd in the middle of West Hollywood. The staff was really nice and quite accommodating to our 25+ person party. I had the “Sassy Cheeseburger” with bacon and a side of fries.

Between a bangin’ performance by the band, which felt pretty loose and comfortable, and a good night of sound for me, this show was definitely the best of the tour so far. Although I had been skeptical that the band would be able to pull of the acoustic portion of the set, I was proven wrong as the entire audience was quiet and many people even sat down around the band as they sang and played.

Due to the overwhelming number of friends of the band at the show, Bora, our backline/video tech, and I ended up striking most of the instruments and pretty much packing the trailer alone. The security staff of the Troubadour did us a solid and helped us get out of there in a major way. It’s nice to have willing, agreeable help.

Right now we’re on I-5 North headed for San Francisco. I slept for an hour or so in the car, but am pretty out of it at the moment. I’m listening to Binky Griptite’s GhettoFunk Power Hour, the bonus tracks from the most recent Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings Album. It’s an hour long radio show format cd with some really good funky music on it, including Antibalas, The Mighty Imperials and the Sugarman 3. My nostrils are filled with the sour milk smell of cow manure. Gross.

We’ve been driving by farms of all kinds, from fruit trees to dogwoods, from veggie patches to wind and solar energy farms. I knew the country would be big, but I didn’t know it’d be this big. Right now as I look out the van window, there are dogwood trees as far as I can see in any direction, little pink-flecked puffballs.

Blogger navel gazing ahoy!
I never thought I’d be able to write 1500 words off the cuff like this. In college, writing was always a hassle. Until my senior year, I’d have to force myself to sit at the keyboard and just write and get my ideas digitized. Once I get started on these blog posts, though, I can’t seem to shut myself up. We’ll be in Portland on Monday and Tuesday. Hopefully I’ll have more time to write and photo and stuff. I can’t wait to see my friends and my dog. I miss them all a lot.