It’s finally here, my Oregon pilgrimage.

That’s honestly what I feel it is.  Sipping the cold coffee I kept in the fridge bought yesterday morning but never got around to sipping it after that breakfast burrito.

Will head to airport around 2:30, get there early and write, have an early glass of wine, or beer.  Watch the people, see my new story really start to form with this new trip.  Any attempted shivaree toward me just doesn’t land today.  This is the first page in a book of travel and seeing everything, EVERYTHING.

No nerves toward the flight anymore.  Friend of mine yesterday or day before posting that she’s headed to Palm Springs showing her laptop open at the airport with a vodka cranberry or cosmo or one of those drink types.

7:18 now, will finish this coffee and print my boarding pass though I don’t think I need to.   Can check in through a link emailed to me, but bringing a printout to be safe.  Just finished my outgoing message over email to prospects and clients that would email me as well as for the messenger platform within the company.

Raining outside, lightly but consistent.  Newness burgeoning in a way not before present in my cells, veins….  Kids last night making me laugh all three hours, and I mean a full set of laughs.  This past weekend they all looking out at the rain, Henry pointing at the wet glass door leading to the deck while I held him.

Redefining my state and fate.  I’m no longer the character that waits.  All mornings when first ‘wake, convinced that everything for which I search I’m assured to take.  The music alive in me, obviously.  It’s the morning, and the light outside barely formed and real… drops hitting deck boards, me sipping coffee again somewhat watching the news.  Why… should be totally on keyboard, sharing syllables and Now’s lore.

Breakfast, another Oliver’s burrito I’m thinking so I don’t have to eat at either airport.  I’ll be in Portland for a couple hours, think I told you, not sure why I’m so excited… I’ll only be in the airport.  Still, I’ve always loved Portland.  Hoping there’s a microbrewery or three there.  If not, I’ll be in PORTLAND.  That’s another place to write, new humans and characters….  After this trip, possibly Vegas with Ditter but I want to pass 100% quota first.  Go to Napa by myself, maybe… stay at some little B&B in Calistoga or something.

I had the travel “bug” before, but now it’s unbridled and pandemic-like in the visions.  Seattle, New York…. Canada, Paris of course on 2/1/22… so much I haven’t seen and where I am in my story I just don’t see it as acceptable, especially as a writer.  All good, fixing it now.  Finally.  THIS, is what happiness looks like.  And not so much as “looks like”, appearance, but actually IS.

Funny how I keep thinking about Portland, and this trip.  Like it’s the first one I’ve ever taken.  Huh… in many ways it is.  And it IS, in this new life.  Leaving to get breakfast.  What music best realizes this morning and the day ahead?