Okay so I'm basically becoming very quickly obsessed with the truck. It talks to me, a la 2001 Space Odyssey style and I talk back and it does stuff. Of course the last thing I need is another large thing with tons of instruction manuals, but there it is. I spent over 30 minutes trying to decipher the instructions on how to light my oven pilot and ended up with a cold oven. It took me 10 minutes to locate the proper manual and sync my phone with the truck, but I think I can just say stuff like, Call Barbara Mobile and it will call my mother's cell. I might have to read more on it.
Drove Busta (might stick with Brutus too?) into town tonight and did a soak with my dear friend. Thank goodness for the hippy nature of Portland where I ran around nude in various showers hot tubs and saunas for a nice long hour of heating my cold, cold body. Portland really has it on weird, I have to say. Just my kind of blend too, but I tend to both appreciate and be annoyed by anyone who takes anything too far. Like the yoga guru, or the micro diet nerd, these are great activities to get into, but there's always that one person in a class of 20+ who is really way, way, way too into it. You know who I mean.
My friend confesses that she is moving in the summer back to the east coast. I know she has struggled to ply her alternative therapies in a land where you can't throw a microbrew kombucha without hitting at least one other therapist in her field. I asked her if she was moving to get away from Portland. For some reason it stuck out that she was indeed moving to get away from somewhere, not because she was particularly excited or committed about being somewhere else. Seemed like an important distinction at the time.
After all that soaking though, I gotta go to sleep.