Ich liebe Seattle.

For my last night in Seattle, we organized a scavenger hunt. No competition, just one big team, adding and dropping members as the night went on. The same people made the list and participated in the hunt -- it was a good time. What I remember from the list: picture in the back of a pickup truck, empty 40oz, male babe, female babe, single french fry, someone with fast food, someone's armpit hair, picture standing in a fountain. There were many more, the idea being that we would find them all and take photos of each.

It started at midnight. We were at it for a couple of hours, drinking and laughing, before heading home. Some babe drew a penguin on my arm and told me he was from San Francisco. When I asked where in San Francisco, he said, "well... I'm actually from Petaluma." Hailey asked him if he was in the band Birdwatchers United, and was unnecessarily embarrassed when he said no. When we were back at the house, I talked to and smooched some babe, who then bolted very suddenly and, in my paranoid mind, fearfully. It could have been the normal 5am I-should-really-go-home departure, but I like to amplify situations so that I'm viewed negatively. Why is that, I wonder?

I fell asleep on some couch cushions that Jared kindly set up for me, but woke up on the floor in the hallway (with my sleeping bag), halfway in the bathroom. How did I get there? I must have walked, but I can't imagine why. I wasn't drunk enough to vomit, and since I brought my sleeping bag, there must have been some intention of sleeping.

Back in San Francisco, I just want to leave again.