Departure from Phoenix

This morning I left Phoenix and drove ten and a half hours. There’s a town in Texas called Dalhart, population slightly over seven thousand people. This is where I-54 turns—I had to turn left onto Denver Avenue, which is also 54 East. There’s a basic little hotel on the corner, as soon as you turn left…and that’s hwere I am. Going to be in a few minutes—though I’ve already lost two hours and the clock says it’s 9”30 though it feels more like 7:30. (Phoenix is on the same time zone as CA and OR, at least for six months of the year.)

Last night, I had the Ikea shopping experience with Francis, Jennifer, and Malcolm, and made a wish list because there’s an Ikea store in Portland.

Last night I also thanked Francis for treating me so well, and he said, “We’re family. Our mom’s side of the family are a bunch of dicks, but relatives don’t have to be that way.” Very true. Living in Topeka and having so much contact with my mother’s side of the family, I’ve become over the past few years accustomed to thinking of relatives as an abomination and as my worst enemies. Francis has reminded me that this doesn’t have to be the case and that I’m generalizing.

I’m so looking forward to being back in Portland!