"Shoot me if I ever wear flannel" -Marie, 2003

"Kerouacaphoria  [kayr' -oo-ak-for'-ee-uh] n.  an active creative mental state that mimics the speedy exhilarated sensation one experiences after driving non-stop across the country, mind and body racing to process the new sensations and new experiences one has encountered. Kerouacaphoria is also characterized by the ability to find transcendence in a cup of coffee, the exhilarating soul-deepening experience of having an intense discourse in a confined space- a conversation that could not happen outside of this vehicle. Also, Kerouackia n. the way in which a person's interior life is shaped by the actual contours of the landscape they grew up in, and the way in which a person's emotional and psychological state can be altered by travel."

On the drive South, there is a section of I-5 that splits due to a tiny wetland area. It is my favorite stretch of road. Today, as I drove alongside the marsh, Vetiver's "Roll On Babe," was playing and it was one of those moments when music becomes a soundtrack for life. 

The trees were naked, I was wearing flannel, driving in a hybrid with a dog by my side. I had consumed an enormous amount of coffee which gave my otherwise pasty complexion a subtle glow...a glow that is a notch or two above a corpse. As I surveyed the details of my circumstance I realized, accepted, and embraced the fact that I am 100% Pacific Northwestern. There is no turning back. 

I tapped my ruby slippers and hummed, "there's no place like home." It was a lovely moment.