i made it down the coast in seventeen hours

Post title is deceptive because it only takes a little over an hour to get to the bay area by plane from Portland but that's not how the song goes.

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By the time you read this, I will be halfway to California.

Or already there. 

Yes, there's a chance I'm there (here?) as we speak.

 As you read. 

Whatever, I wrote this post in a small state of delirium while watching an old episode of The Office and wishing it was the original Arthur because I really love me some Dudley Moore.

Good lord, but I digress...

Among the other things I accomplished this past week (things which include, but are not limited to: eating an entire bag of Haribo gummy candies in one day, doing laundry, barrel tasting at Alexana, and not properly making my bed even once), I decided to read through some of the archives of Nat The Fat Rat.

Though she lives in NYC now, she used to be a Portland girl and I get a sincere kick when she writes about my corner of the country. 

In one post about her traveling back out here (there?)
she pinpointed one of the things I love most about this place:

"I am in Portland, and if I were to do a spot-on impersonation of Portland, it would go like this:

"drip, drip, drip, mossssssssssss growwwwiiiiiiing.""

And not to say I will ever fully tire of this, but it does make me excited to be going to California and up my dosage of natural vitamin D.

Only problem there is that it presents me with the dilemma all indecisive packrats face when traveling:

what to bring.

Which is why in the same post I'm pretty sure I found my packing soulmate in Natalie Holbrook:

"I will pack this . . . I will pack that . . . I will pack every stripey shirt I own because . . . wellllll . . . (cue my luggage being too stuffed for anything else) . . . oh bother."

On that note, I'm really happy to report that most of the weight/space in my luggage is due to wine. 

So. 

There that is.