Happy Birthday Santa!
Ahoy there, here are some crissmas gems that Derek sent me. Turn up and enjoy.
I'm spending a couple days at home in Colorado. If I believed in that sort of thing I'd say my trip here was strangely blessed. Against all odds, I flew out of Portland during a fleeting window between arctic blasts, jumped on a bus from Denver up into the mountains and made it over the big pass and safely to my destination just hours before it closed due to an avalanche. It was meant to be … or whatever.
De-icing on an icy ass runway in Portland.
Portland hasn't looked much like Portland in the last week.I mean look at this, it may as well be fucking Pittsburgh!
Christmas eve was dark and cloudy—but the blizzard had subsided. My nephew and I were having a discussion about Santa's whereabouts at that moment. "Probably over New York," I suggested. "No, he's still getting ready in the North Pole," he told me. "Good thing the weather's clearing up so Santa doesn't have to call Rudolph," I said stupidly. "Rudolph's just a story, Jen," he informed me.
Fucking toddlers are way too smart sometimes!
Patrick is learning to write and now seems to have the word "piss" in his repertoire. Awesome.