Oh my. Such a fine day.

What an incredible day. It's a small world. My father reminded me recently. Dad knows most everything.

Sitting in the window seat at 33, waiting on a friend I haven't seen for 30 years. THIRTY YEARS.. My beautiful friend spots me, good times. WHAT? She waved and walked on by. Mercifully, she turned back. Yea, Burt Bacharach [http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ScyIcOWbiDs.] We're ordering brunch. Only in Portland can this amount of irony exist. On the inside is Guokas and his beautiful friend. DIRECTLY OUTSIDE the glass, a Portland-style junkie is emptying his bag and man-purse on the table outside our window. His shaky-shaky hands spills a smartphone. My fellow frugalitarian and me sport lame-o Tracphones. And he had a needle stuck through his brow in some kind of Weirdness. Here I am [always] expounding on the benefits of living close-in. Brunch at Circa 33 is very tasty. That veggie-stuffed Bloody Mary sports a full bacon strip and a split boiled egg. Our server comped us a drink. Butt.. uh.. oh..In a neighborhood of reasonably-priced West Coast housing Portland in twenty years? Buy land now. My friend, she's...she's very smart and modest and very pretty and sports big brain.

There's much too do this Spring. Need to see the ocean soon.