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02.25.05 - 11:58 pm My trip odometer says 48.3 miles. It seems like a week ago when I last got gas, when in reality I just fueled up this morning. Less than a mile saw me to Lincoln. Got to leave with 250 other people to see Machuca. Sad. Four miles to the library to get books for the IA, and then home. Four miles back to Lincoln to pick up the girls. Ten out to practice. Practice was fun, but it took me ten miles to get back downtown to drop off the carpool. Where are we now...lets say 27. It might not be four miles all the way to school, or ten miles out to Delta. So 27 miles into the day, I find myself home alone at nine o'clock. Hat wanted me to give her a call. Ten minutes later I'm ripping off my sweats, pulling on some real clothes, and jumping out the door to try to remember how to get to Coldstone. Barnes or Miller? What's the fastest way to get to Skyline? I produce iPod and find something soothing. Jack Johnson. His mellow yet harmonious tracks wind me up narrow roads and put more wear on the car. It's a Volvo, it'll last for a while longer. Or at least until September when I leave for college. With a bit of a detour (there's two Barnes roads?), mile 35 finds me at Coldstone. 10 minutes early, what? I relax, listen, and change the color theme on my phone. Hat and Kevin get there, and we hang out and eat odd combinations of ice cream and add-ins. I have chocolate yogurt with coconut and apple pie filling. Hat has cake batter with strawberries. Kevin doesn't want to pay $3.50 for something he's already had twice today. I start to add more miles to the car when the store fills up with children. For once, I take the same way home as the way that I went out. I decide that no, I really don't need to use the gas pedal, and coast from Sylvan to I-405. It's really nice to just drive, not worry about going over the speed limit, not worry about applying gas or brake and just steer. I lost track of the mileage when I decided to take the Curves home instead of same-old same-old Barbur. Or I could accidentally take I-5 North instead of I-5 South. Which I did. By accident. I swear. It took me up across the Marquam Bridge where I decided that I-84 would be a faster way to get back to my house than turning around by the Rose Garden. I hopped off by OMSI and took MLK to some back road to the Powell/Ross Island Bridge. How many miles at this point? Who knows. I try to take the Curves again, yet find myself headed back to downtown Portland instead of I-5 South. I don't usually believe in life like this, but I don't think that I was supposed to take the Terwilligar Curves home tonight. So I doubled around and ended up taking Barbur home. I finished the Jack Johnson CD about two minutes from my house so I just listened to the sounds of my car in silence making it's way around the narrow roads and into my driveway. It's nice to do that sometimes. So that leaves me at 48.3. See you all in the future.
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