1.) I smirk like Michael C. Hall. Not in pictures, not to people, but in those little self-gratifying “a-ha” moments which typically occur in public and most likely make me look smug. The problem is, I hate that smirk. I hated when he did it on “Six Feet Under” and I hate how he does it on “Dexter”. Why did I develop this problem? Why?
2.) This is the first time I’ve seen my mother in 9 months and I was confused and disappointed to discover that the phrase, “Cool beans!” comes out of her mouth after each excitable moment. I casually mentioned to her that it’s not 1998 anymore but she says she can’t help it. I love her nonetheless.
3.) Some breed of fly has taken over coastal Oregon. They swarm onto you by the dozens and stick to your body. It makes you realize what rotten fruit must feel like.
4.) Oregon is way too clean. Look, I lived in the state where three of the dirtiest beaches
in the country are located. I’m used to a little poop in my drinking water. My first introduction to Venice
Beach? Digging up a syringe in the sand. Now, that
is a beach! Forget all this no cigarette butts and crystal blue water shit.
5.) I don’t want to get old
. We had to be the only people under 70 traveling the Oregon Coast this week. It was an enigma. Every single place we stopped at had a bunch of blue hairs with brightly colored placards draped around their neck so they wouldn’t stray too far from the tour bus. They all walked very slowly and looked angry. I want no part of it.
6.) Trendy boutique hotels in top-rated hipsters cities are not suitable for mothers. It wasn’t the condom sitting by the bedside that bothered her, but the Ikea furniture, box-like sauna of a room, and lack of elevator. Yeah, but Mom, you can go drink a Pabst Blue Ribbon with a bike mechanic named Spider downstairs at the bar.
7.) The people who own what is affectionately known as “Mikey’s House” from Goonies are really cool. They invite you to come up their drive-way and gawk at their house.