Fugitives and Refugees

Had an eventful day/night/morning yesterday. I think we can officially call the start of Emily's social outings in Portland. Saturday was D's b-day + Oisin's belated b-day/housewarming. This led to a night that was a bit like the twilight zone/deja vuish mixed with a plethora of voodoo doughnuts, dancey goodness and strippers, of course. Embodied the finer bits of PDX I love so much.

Partying with Oisin and his random friend's, plus all the usual characters from high school was nothing short of hilarious and just fucking weird. Oisin is still carrying way too many weapons at all times, Max is still oddly creeping out the ladies, Zach is still a champ with liquor, Vicki is still bitter as shit, and John is still...just British. We're all five years older, slightly wiser, often hotter, but just as socially awkward/intelligent/unique/humorous. I hope I get to hang with them again soon. I kinda feel like after five years away I'm finally able to almost keep up with all of them creatively and intellectually...almost.

I'm glad I had a good night out here. I really don't want to hate it here anymore, but it's hard not to. Did some drunk dialing to those north of the border last night.

I just wish I could transplant you all here into this weird carnival town, along with the beaches, the amazing gay clubs, sushi, and the accents. Alas, I drink from a flask in a club bathroom 317 miles away. Wish you were here, one of the fugitives and refugees.