I think 'viva' actually translates as 'fuck'. As in 'fuck las vegas'.

The las vegas airport. A woman looks at me with sullen, dead eyes when i walk too close to her slot machine. Living the cliche.

Also- my laptop charger is still broken. Hence the phone posts. And the headphone jack on ipod #7 is broken, so it's time for ipod #8.

It amazes me how i get to portland and immediately feel like i'm home. Mostly because it points out that i'm never felt at home before.

ebody i was supposed to be. And now i'm leaving again. Oh, portland.

24 hours in portland has me feeling like four months in anchorage was just a bad dream. I slipped my blazer on, and it was like i was somebody else, som

Balls to the Walrus would be a great band name.

I am in portland. And all is right with the world. Or it feels that way at least.

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This is exciting, when you're me!

Not only did I unveil the much prettier revamp of my comic's website this weekend (which finally looks just about how it looks in my head), I started a MySpace page for the comicAnd the MySpace is in desperate need of friends! And rather than go through the 452 people and bands on my MySpace friends list and ( Read more... )