home again, sans jig

I managed to make the drive from Seattle to Missoula in UNDER seven hours, which is record-setting for me, since it's about five hundred miles. I-90, like I-5, lies in a bleeding heap and forever cursed as my defeated foe. I don't know if I've mentioned this on my blog, but I pretty much am the best driver in America. Just the right amount of rage and callousness and speed. Don't even mess with me on the road. People move out of in front of me from the terror-inducing faces I make in their rearview mirror.

That said, my time back has been great. My dear friend Kurt had the bong iced for my arrival, which may have been the best welcome one can have. Short of, um, you know. SEX.

Which brings me to meeting this very interesting fellow some of my friends have been trying to get me to meet. And I was pleased to discover his name is Ted, not Todd. Not that I think Ted is a really hot name. But the majority of my social/romantic/sexual experience has been with Tod(d)s, and so I am eager to break away from that name structure, if only to defy what may in fact be my destiny. But Ted is v. cute, bald (?! by choice, actually, and it works for him) seems to be smart and is pretty interesting/mayne to hot for me.

Have been at home with the folks for a while now, which is sweetly boring. Last night I was in bed before midnight, surely a record-breaking tradition. Mum is currently pulling me off to attend to some delightfully bucolic chores, and so I shall bring this rather dull entry to a close.