I sit here in a coffee shop in Bellingham listening to a kid chatting on his cell phone about getting turned away at the border for lack of funds in his possession. I have read where Bellingham has become a refuge for many of those getting turned back at the Canadian border, for whatever reason, whether visiting Canada or traveling through to Alaska.
I find our northern neighbors to be quite pleasant, with the exception of the customs officers, the horribly always-in-a-hurry reckless BC drivers on I-5, and the shoppers that I always seem to get behind when I visit the mall (on rare occasion) that are adorned in gold, jewelry and expensive clothes that are always seem to be negotiating a deal or discount on the sale item that they are purchasing. I wonder where these people come from?
I recall working over at one of the ugly malls in Bellingham a few years back where the huge, expensive RVs driven by retirees would park behind the K-mart in order to save money at our allegedly cheaper retail establishments. Whatever floats your boat.
A new housemate, who left for a trip over to the dry side of the state and beyond. So I am dog sitting today. And for the foreseeable future. More work tonight. An exciting Friday night.