I'll have further details tomorrow when I find a coffee shop and a wonderful bagel. But I would just like to say this.
Portland kicked my ass.
After hitting the bars (and I do mean bars, numerous, more bars than Bill Clinton mistresses) on Monday night, I awoke on Tuesday to find that my body had apparently decided to act like it was going through its final death spasms.
I barely was able to get it together to make it to the Portland Trailblazers game on Tuesday night, which was almost sold out and the usher found three empty alcohol fifths in the row in front of us. Good times.
And then after the game while walking back to our hotel (We were like three blocks from the Rose Garden), I watched this girl smack here head against a transfer box on a stoplight post because she wasn't looking where she was going.
Boy do I love this city.