Obviously at the very top of my list are my munchkins. I made them, I gave them life, I put up with their bickering and messes...and have loved every minute of it.
I love Oregon. Most of all, I love Portland. It's home. The hustle and bustle of the Rose City is familiar and safe. I love that only a hour away (in opposite directions) is the Pacific Ocean and Mount Hood. I love that we have SEASONS up here (sorry, Nephi...I know Texas is making you miserable, and your inner PNWer die a little more with each and every day). I love the sound of the rain pounding on my roof and bedroom windows at night. I love the variety of personas you can find around town. I just love the place I call home.
My guitar means a lot to me. Both of them. There's nothing quite like after having a bad day (or a fabulous one), picking up the six string, and letting it all out. I don't care if it's a song you wrote yourself or something you heard off the radio and are trying to replicate either very well or your attempt makes people want to stare at naked Dick Cheney instead....it's therapeutic. Where words fail, music speaks. It's the universal language. And, let's face it. Girls who rock the guitar...are sexy. Boom!
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