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I'm glad I like to take pictures!
This is one of 'those" pictures, that says, "keep taking pictures!" Not long after the jet lag wore off returning from our hiatus in Asia (more about that later...how I am by trying to publish my debaucherious tails that I've dubbed
'Into the Orient, I Did Not Do Any Illegal Drugs in Asia', book...with full color pictures and zero spell check to-date) I myself was off...down the Oregon Coast for a bit of "work" for the week. You know for that 'jobby thingy' that keeps the
Organic veggies in stock and the fresh potable water leaking from the kitchen faucet? I will say, that for the better part of what other people would call their
'young adulthood', I swear I'm still an
'immature homeless kid', I have been fortunate enough to be on the road, travelling for my dinero for several years now. Fueled by an adolescents full of
vaggabonding and
chasing the dragon it comes to no surprise that I sought out trekking the terrain as a full time career and avoiding
real commitement thus far.
As fiercely independent as I am, the major drawback for travelling for work is that I have to do it alone. 10 of the last texts I sent were of amazing things I'm seeing
or doing from somewhere other than home to people who I love, who are somewhere other than here, with me. Let's get something straight...I'm not crying in a hotel room ordering room service because I'm lonely, no...I am crying because all my friends would be laughing, doing the same thing when we're all together but I'm the only one here right now, so people, come on, I'm crying and ordering room service because those are both things that alcohalics do every morning while thinking it'd be 'cooler' if someone else were here with me and I could be laughing not crying at last nights' behavior, cause that was totally acceptable, right?. And well, no surprise...I like the Sauce.
To try and redeem myself from last night night...
(just a heads up...I don't come back to this for awhile. You'll have to read through all this crap or I suggest check out the pics from my edited redemption version now, basically I walk it off in a
Rad hike.)
...where I pulled an 'All Nighter' at the Casino in Southern Oregon...yeah, I lost my money, not a huge shocker though. Funny...I don't think most people will say
Gambling is the same as
Losing. It's not like I left my wallet in the bathroom for a second, at a bar where I was underage drinking with a fake ID, where the bartender found my wallet and my ID and knew the girl who was actually in the ID, and well for sure knew that it wasn't me in that ID...I come colliding back into the bathroon and he snags my ID, I snag it back and dart for the door, "woah, I almost
'lost' my fake ID back there!"
No, I sat down at 2 tables...poker and roullette (they're not even getting a capital letter here, but they do get the extra parenthesis to increase my emphasis on the
losing part, not the
gambling part)...for easily 3 hours at each table I lost my money, knowingly, drunkenly, and jovially-ee. Lucky for me, I was on the reservation...not like my own reservation here in SoFo, but an actual Indian Reservation, so booze was comin' all night. I love cultures that get 'Grandfather'ed in on favorite past times such as boozin' and smokin' as part of their
religion and allow what is now considered
faux pas in The Pearl
District. I hate the Pearl! Oops that one slipped, I didn't even see it comin'.
Just as I was fully lit, even up a little money, these 3 hilarious guys slash clearly best friends since kindergarten sit down at my roullette table. Rounds of drinks are ordered, ciggy after ciggy is smoked, (not by me of course, because I'm still a flippin' quiter, Gawd Damn It, I want a ciggarette, I'm so Angry!) next thing I know we all are laughing histarically and the Pit Boss walks up to our table. "Sah-cuze me folks, what did you just say to the dealer...? I'm gonna have to ask you leave..."
"Wha, huh, wait a sec...I'm crying cuz I'm still laughing so hard.., let me wipe my tears outta my eyes...what did you say...I dunno, it's not like we told her she was ugly or anything, which she is, by the way. What kind of screening do you guys do for chicks prancing around in Tube Tops and Thongs all night representing the good
Hopi name? (is that bad that the only Indian name I could remember when drunk was my elementary soccer team name?) No really, I have no
idea why the dealer ran away and why the Pit Boss came over, if it had anything to do with me sitting with these dudes, throwing my money at a
Cultural Experience so Angelina can adopt another baby (preferrable an another asian baby) and we're having some serious laughs and their girlfriends get jeoulous when the dudes don't want to "Go back to our their room, she's tired"and decide to make a scene while we're all drunk, then that's definitely a
'their' problem, not a
'my' problem.
Timing is perfection...I hear my name over the intercom for my spot at the poker table, finally! I had signed up like 2 hours earlier!
Just as quickly that I snagged my fake ID from the bartender a decade ago, I duck my head (not in shame though...more of a Bond Girl way) and scoot outta there and into the world of No Limit Texas Hold Em where I
lose the rest of my money and the dudes turn to gents smokin' ci-gars instead of dirty ciggs with ho bags. I elude the
system once again.
Wow...finally my redemption the next day...I saw Elk and Eagles, Waves and Ferns, Logs
and Lighthouses, I Tripped over Roots and Roosters, Fishies and Fat Canadian Tourists, (thought I'd give a jab to our only friendly northern neighbor for no good reason at all)
Well, I saw what makes me know that the place I love as home is...Oregon!
Oh and I found the italics
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