caroline contillo

Classes are over. There’s a hellacious torrent of ice falling from the sky. I’m curled up next to a space heater older than the dinosaurs, studying for finals. I dreamed last night about a place I went to a few years ago in Astoria, Oregon, called the Wet Dog Cafe. Astoria is, meteorologically, the rainiest city in the United States. At the mouth of the Columbia River, it is a coastal city, reminiscent of San Francisco with its hills and Victorian houses. You may recognize the city from movies like the Goonies, Kindergarten  Cop, and Short Circuit, wherein even the sun can not cut completely through the mist that sits on the city.  When my friend Erin and I drove there from Eugene, we stopped off at a number of antique and bric-a-brac stores, and ended the night at a beautifully restored old theater than served pizza and beer. Upon returning to New York I talked about wanting to move there, and someone in the group mentioned having family there. “It’s beautiful, but nothing good ever happens there. Bad ley lines, I think.” It’s probably what helps preserve the city in time.

all images culled from flickr, and link to original page