Sleepless in Seattle

I can't say it's been a surprise, but the states of North Dakota and Montana (and Idaho, for that matter) don't believe in the Internet.

So I'm writing a long over-due letter from lovely Seattle, the Jet City.

I'll have pictures and details when I get home, of course - and there will be tons - but just know that I'm safe and alive and having a blast.

Talked to grandma at the Space Needle, and she thought I fell off the face of the earth. My dad? He just said, "get me a t-shirt." So I got him a hat.

Mt. Rainier is the most beautiful sight on Earth. Look it up. Or, better yet, visit it. Turns out it's actually a pretty active volcano. Kind of like Yellowstone.

Ah Yellowstone. Where Hell comes closest to the surface of the Earth, a place of boiling springs and bubbling clay and more buffalo than you can shake a stick at. A walking stick, preferrably.

I miss the easy-goingness of the Route trip, and I forgot how boring the Interstate drive can be. But with sights like Roosevelt National Park and the Montana/Wyoming border keeping me company, I can hardly complain.

Yes, my sight got hacked while I've been gone, which is just as well: my fish Mario died, too ("I did everything you told me to," the roomie says). So sorry for the solicitations. If I wanted money, I'd just ask. Fuck Macy's.

Almost home, and almost out of money, but hanging tight in the Pacific time zone. It's weird to thing all my friends are fast asleep right now.

So, three hours behind, I'll join them.