I celebrated election day by leaving the state. A hop, skip and a short 12-hour drive later and I'm in Portland, where it is muggy. I've already gotten lost. I got a hotel room from a seemingly friendly, possibly rather suspicious, impossibly slow man. I found Voodoo Doughnuts, but was persuaded by my bladder and the long line to wait until tomorrow.
Oregon is an interesting place. You don't pump your own gas here, despite it being far more efficient and far less awkward. There is more water here than I know what to do with. And every time I go to a big city, I feel like a little country girl. Why are there so many freeways here? And what is up with one-way streets?
But I'm here and I'm alive. First order of business -- find a new motel. This one is down the street from a place called Honeysuckle. Second -- look up a map of the public transit system. I am ill-suited to drive around other people. I mostly think they're too stupid to be on the road, and high blood pressure ensues.
Tomorrow will be more interesting, I promise.