fifty dollar words...

Words are expensive...but worth the money.

Powell's was blissfully overwhelming, as usual. I kept picking up books, determined to add them to my collection, only to be distracted by some new pricetag. That's the way I shop at Powell's: grab everything that catches the eye, pile them all on, then evaluate and purchase some. Sometimes I sort them by author, sometimes by size. One likes to get the most words possible for one's hard earned michigan-minimum-wage-dollar.

Allison and I talked about all the 'everyone-reads-this-in-highschool' books that we haven't read. There are a lot.

In the end, I left trip poorer in dollar, but much richer in word:

-A Curly Girl book for my favorite little corkscrew redhead in Michigan
-A collection of fifteen early Jeeves [mostly unread] stories will keep me company on the long flight back to Chicago on Sunday
-Through Painted Deserts: Light, God and Beayty on the Open Road to fulfill my stream-of-consciousness and roadtrip-of-life quotas
-And a gorgeous illustrated hardback copy of Poe's darkest stories for those long lonely nights and occasional flashes of 'so much for my happy ending.'

I enjoy public transportation. I learned about life, love, fashion, portland, idaho, money, and gwen stefani on the Metro Area eXpress yesterday.

And to all you boys who think that tinted windows will keep the objects of your stares from noticing, think again. That might be tolerated in the backwoods of Michigan. But this is Portland. Please act accordingly.