Thanksgiving weekend 2016

So, I promised you the saga of my most recent Thanksgiving adventures, and herein I pay my due thusly:

Last year I spent Thanksgiving working in a liquor store. Which, I mean face it, that's a pretty awful way to spend a holiday. Thanksgiving, of all the holidays, feels like the one that most of all needs to be spent with your closest loved ones. I guess this year that gave me one more thing to be thankful for.

I started a new job in August, which, at the time, meant I would have a four day holiday weekend. The idea of spending thanksgiving with my family in Washington for the first time since I moved set in very quickly and I was pretty excited. But when October arrived... a company-wide email was sent out telling us that the day after thanksgiving we'd be open. And that everyone was expected to work it unless they drew time off. I tried to take it off, but as a new hire I didn't have the necessary accumulated vacation time. And I wasn't going to claim I was sick. So I hatched a plan. A foolhardy plan. The kind of plan that only a hell-bent hooligan half mad and drunk on nonsense can dream up in his wild head.

My plan was to leave work the night before Thanksgiving, driving north and arriving at my family's doorstep later that night. We'd party the night away. Rise the next morning, move the festivities to our friends' home to enjoy a shared feast with a large throng of party goers, and then when all parted to go their merrier ways... I'd head back south again in time to go to sleep so that I could get up the next morning to work. Then... after I'd worked a day's worth of toil, it'd be back in the car with me and back up to Washington to spend the weekend with my family. Then I'd drive back to Portland Sunday night. That was my harebrained plan. And that's exactly what I did. Both drives north were fine. Relatively quick and painless. But both drives south were... harrowing. The drive home after Thanksgiving dinner was the worst of the two. It was a torrential downpour the entire way. At times the water on the road was so deep I could feel it beat against the floorboards of my car as the wheels struggled to grip the sopping pavement.

But I made it back. Twice. And I'm really glad I did it. It was fantastic to spend Thanksgiving just like I remember it. With the same people I've spent it with for years. I'd missed it. This Thanksgiving was infinitely better than last year's. And it was equally lovely to have a weekend dedicated to catching up with my family. I've missed them all so much. And it was good to see what they're all up to these days. I was able to spend some coveted time with my girlfriend too. For both of us, snagging just a couple moments together can really help ease the difficulty of distance. I miss her. But a few hours respite from our time apart tends to be pretty encouraging.

Anyway - that's it. For a saga it isn't, like, the craziest thing you've ever heard I'm sure. But it was a pretty adventurous weekend for me.

Woes of distance

Hi.

It's me again.

I'll be honest, I just don't think I'm a very good blogger. A blogger is fearless. A blogger just slaps out the day's events like it's an adventure after an adventure, and it really isn't, but they act like it is.

I have trouble writing about my every day scenarios. They're not interesting, they're repetitive, and they don't write themselves. And if I'm going to write about something, it needs to excite me.

And yet, here I am. I have nothing especially exciting to write about, but I felt compelled to post something on this derelict web log. A writer ought to write when he's compelled.

For those of you wondering about me personally: I'm doing alright. I'm working full time for the first time in my life. It's a desk job, which isn't really the kind of job that stuffs your life full to brimming with adventures... But I have a good team of people. We all work well together and have a good time.

Portland's weather has been rainier of late. Meaning walks are soggy things. Evenings are better spent inside, with a mug of hot stuff and a book or something.

But while everything seems okay, I miss my friends and my family and my girlfriend. It's not like I'm alone. I have my roommates and my friends down here in Portland. But every time I drive north to visit everyone I get pulled in a million different ways. I want to spend time with Natalie and I want to see my family and I want to see my ol' buddies. I end up trying to do it all and I spread myself thin and don't get nearly enough time with any of them. I feel like my younger siblings are going to grow up and I won't even make so much as a shallow impression in their lives. I feel like I'm going to lose the friends that meant so much to me for so long. And I feel, worst of all, like I'm taking my girlfriend for granted. I want them all to know how much I love them, that's why I try to fit them all in. And instead... they all just feel neglected. Like they're not as important as the next person.

I know I can't make everyone happy. But... these are the people I care the most about. They're the only people I really want to make happy.

Life is tricky. I'm sure I'm not the only person who's felt this way. I can't be the only guy who's experienced this. I've always been scared of letting people down. But lately it feels like I'm letting everyone down.

Christmas is coming. And when the Christmas season happens I always get so excited. It's my favorite time of the year. But this December is going to be crazy. Every weekend is spoken for already. Every weekend is claimed by someone or something. I really hope my favorite time of the year isn't ruined by my trying to fit everyone and everything in.

I guess I just hope everyone is patient with me. It takes a lot of energy to drive back and forth and hither and thither and... all of it. I love everyone. And I'm definitely trying my best. I'll see you guys soon.

... Alright. Crazy, mixed up post. What a way to get back into blogging.

Come to think of it, my Thanksgiving is going to be a saga worth chronicling. So stay tuned for that adventure.

It's been a long time...

I've been super-crazy busy. Between moving, and trying to start school, and working, life's been freaking-nuts! I did find time to post that video (months and months ago), but that was... just goofiness.

I'm doing pretty well. Yo know, in case you were wondering.

I love my coworkers and my roommates and basically anybody I come in contact with. The weather has recently made a crazy change. Oregon seems to like to shift weather suddenly and without warning, so we've been seeing some slightly hotter days. Seventy-five degree days mostly. Which - is just fantastic.

My creative side has suffered a bit since the move though. I haven't been writing much at all. Which is part of why I'm blogging right now. Sometimes all it takes to get things going is something as chill and simple as a blog post. Once I get words out they usually rush in their usual torrent. I wrote one measly poem some time ago and that's been my only oasis in this ridiculous desert.

That's going to change though. I recently started studying again. I need to take two SAT subject tests between now and May 7th, which for someone like me, is pretty much no time for studying for a test. And I have to take TWO. It'll be good though. It's forced me to carve out time every day for studying. So if I treat writing as importantly as that I'll be churning out stories and poems like a milk maid churns out butter. (Are milk maids even a thing anymore? I have no idea...)

Apartment Tour

Alright, so people keep asking me to take pictures of my new place and I'm not about that life, so I told them I'd do a corny walk-around and film it. Like a guided house-tour video.

And here it is, finally! In all it's cheesy glory! Yay!

Cartoonization

Yes. I made that word up. So deal with it.

Anyway, word on the street is that I moved to Portland. It hasn't all been candy hearts and roses, but the good news is I'm not living in a dumpster downtown and I have a pretty sweet job working at a liquor store.

The night before I left my parents threw me a bit of a goodbye party. Nothing too fancy. But it involved absolutely wonderful things like bonfires, pumpkin chillie, apple cider, and nearly all my closest friends. It was super nice, and really cool to see so many people I care about for one last time before I left.

The point of this post, though, isn't to talk about the rad party my family threw for me. It's to highlight two of the coolest gifts I received.

Daniel, my younger brother, has been drawing like a maniac recently. He's taken our mother's flare for art to heart and really been improving over the last, say, couple months. It's super cool to see his stuff get better literally daily. He drew me a parting gift, using all his artistic talent and thoughtfulness which was better than anything he could have bought or acquired (Even through shrewd bargaining, which would have impressed me as well...)

 See that? Freaking masterpiece as far as I'm concerned. Kid deserves massive praise. He matted and framed it too so I'm hanging it up in my room when I get the chance. I don't care how narcissistic that makes me. It's art.

As for this guy... my friend Abby drew him for me. Her blog is full of awesome artsy stuff. She does these cartoon versions of people and they're pretty much nothing short of bloody fantastic. Mine's absolutely spectacular. Even has my sideways smirk. Yeah, you know the one... the one that gets me all the girls. (Gonna hang this one on my wall too...)

Anyway. Yes... this is an egotistical post. But I thought it was cool that two people thought I was cartoon character material and drew me in their own respective styles.

Pumpkin Rains

The air smells of rain
and cigarettes,
and exhaust.

But the breeze blows
and stirs the leaves
in the trees.

Orange as fire,
Red as blood,
yellow as a taxi cab;
they find themselves
plucked from their branches
by nature’s breathy wind.

Pumpkins in multitude and
sweater weather
means comfort to my wayward soul.

And I relish next morning
before it comes even as
my windshield wipers squeal away
the droplets of clouds’
sweet dampness.

O’ Little town (Not Bethlehem)

Oh little town
I’ve known you long.
So small a place housing so much.

The railroad,
on which trains chug past
a dozen a day at times.
What ruckus and clamor they bring.
They shake you like a maraca.

The highway.
So thin, so small. So dangerous
and untamed.
With traffic lights
that change but once a day
prompting red, red runs of impatience.

The river.
Which swells and bloats
and floods the businesses
when the winter rains
pelt endlessly.
Thus why you smell like moldy socks.

The forests;
a lumberjack’s wonderland.
Now sliced and diced
down, dragged away.
Logging trucks still fly down the roads
their compression brakes
hammering away like machine guns.

Library,
post office,
convenience stores,
gas stations;
I know them all, and
equally well.
Like the trees that
line the center divider
of your main street which
bloom
so big and green and bold.

I’ve grown to loath you,
wicked city.
Your filthy, red-necked,
foolish drunkards.
Your homeless drug lords and
their sapphire tarp palaces.
Your aimless youth who despise
a future to be proud of.
I’ll never have a place with them,
not any.
And for that I am proud.

But,
a part of me is still deposited in you.
As I prepare to leave
I find myself sorry to go.
I loved you even as I detested you;
you were my home.

Be good to yourself,
oh little town.
And when I visit
I’ll maybe hate you even less.

Farewell.