Hello From The Peach(less) State!

I'm in Georgia. (No, not the country, the state.) For those of you who have never visited The Peach State, there is an alarming lack of peaches, and yet - on an entirely different note - their air conditioners work just fine. At least they do here in the hotel. I'm staying at a Best Western, which is somewhat-inaptly named considering that this hotel is mediocre at best, and for somebody who lives in Oregon, Georgia is essentially the far east. So although a name such as Mediocre Eastern would more accurately describe this place, it would probably be much less enticing to potential customers. Unless they are Asian.

The aforementioned air conditioner in my room has two settings: "Cold" and "Arctic". With my father operating the machine (a man who sleeps in his skivvies and orders his coffee iced even in months that end in "ber"), our room is transformed from "Room 105," to "Room 105: Ice Station Zebra." Here's an interesting story to illustrate my point (and I must first qualify it as interesting lest you mistake it for mind-numbingly boring): I woke up this morning slightly disturbed because I didn't have a nose. At least none I could feel. Upon further inspection, and after ducking under the covers long enough to defrost, I was thrilled to find that I did in fact have a nose, it was just extremely cold and mushy, much like an oddly-shaped piece of sushi. (Fun Fact: "mushy" and "sushi" almost rhyme!) I have said all of that to say this: If this post comes to a screetching halt, perhaps even in the middle of a sentence, you will know that my fingers have officially frozen solid and I'm no longer able to type.

Have I mentioned that I have yet to see a dang peach? Here I am in the so-called Peach State and the only thing in sight that is fuzzy and orange is my arm, but this is due to an unfortunate mishap involving self-tanning lotion. Do you think it's somewhat shallow of me to judge this state by its lack of fruit? Maybe it is. Especially since I'm the one from the Beaver State. My fellow Oregonians will back me up when I say that our streets aren't exactly running rampant with beavers, so anybody who draws conclusions based upon a state's nickname is probably a buffoon.

The temperature here in Room 105 continues to plummet, and at the risk of sounding like a B-grade Sci-Fi film, I fear this may be my last transmission.

Fingers... Getting... Stiff...

Before this sub-zero cold brings me to the breaking point, during which I may attempt to eat my peach-like arm out of sheer madness, I should bring this post to a close. But first, there is one final thing I have to tell you, and one might say it is the most important thing I've ever written: If you ever come visit the Peach State, do not under any circumst