Saturday, July 20

It's true. I'd move back in a heartbeat.

If it weren't for this boy I can't get out of my head, I'd still be living in the greatest state North of California. Oregon has everything. It has mountains, rivers, oceans (notice I didn't say 'beaches'), fishing, hunting, hiking, lesbians, straights, urban Portland, Voodoo Donuts, Oregon State University, manners, great beer, awesome family, decent weather, and no sales tax for when you get shit-faced with her sisters at a wine event and require Advil and Gatorade.

The 4th of July this was lackluster compared to past, but still a blast. I enjoyed a delicious cup of "coffee" while Dr. Stacey and I waited for the free fireworks at the local county fair grounds. We watched redneck children light off spinny grass (which subsequently didn't spin. Shocker). We watched a home start to catch fire because people are morons who don't understand fire safety. And my neck wretched trying to eyeball any cute firefighters that may have transferred into town (I'm against any dating of people who also grew up in the town. There needs to be fresher water in the dating pool in Hometown, Oregon).

That Saturday was spent hiking another trail of beauty and mystic wonder.

And the ol' lesbian shoes got their second helping of Oregonian trail.

And that night was complete with the family killing a plethora of wine bottles at a local music/wine tasting event. I had my hair done by Baby Sister, I put on my finest Duggar dress, and enjoyed myself a slightly-early "deployment halfway" present of free wine (thanks Dad!) and a safe ride home (thanks Baby Sister!). And let's not mention my lack of a hangover.

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