Come See The Show

Del Oso Farms - Lathrop, Ca - 2011

 

Dogs on every side

The little yellow house
or duplex
so close to everything
close with you
sharing a mailbox
and a coffee maker
and a spice drawer.

Your scanner on the chair
where I want to sit and watch you
write, edit, upload
articles and pictures and articles
Galarina at our feet.

Her green sweater for security
her purple toy that you say shouldn't be an inside toy
it's too loud, but I throw it
bouncing off doorways
and walls
our neighbors can hear it
but Galarina likes to play.

She sleeps so snug
on the couch we picked
burnt orange and leather (I hope)
where we sit and watch only the good TV shows
where we paint
and we drink beer
and we rest our feet.

Patriot

Fourth of July Parade - Carmichael, Ca - 2011

 

Memorial Day baseball tailgate: Zoe

Niece Zoe and Dad - Oakland, Ca - 2011

Last photo taken by Zoe.

 

Blue line to Gresham

Last night.
After work I went to a local bar/pub and had a couple beers and then rode my bike to the Max station across the bridge. I had no idea when it was supposed to come to I just sat on the curb, in the cold, and waited. For about 30 minutes. Frost bite. But not really.
After getting my bike on the hook, which is no easy task, I took out my book and dove in. Only, behind me were two girls listening to music. After a couple verses I realized they were listening to none other than Weird Al Yankovic. First "Gangster's Paradise" then "White and Nerdy." I started laughing; I couldn't help it. Like, uncontrollably. I tried getting back to my book but I found myself reading the same lines over and over. Weird Al took my focus. So I gave up and put my book away. But by this time it was only two stops until my stop.
Got off Max and took the elevator up to street level. And yes, the elevator floor was covered in piss. Oh well. I put my helmet on and turned on my lights and headed home.
The ride is really nice because it starts with a big hill. I mean a BIG hill. I think it might have been raining though. Maybe just sprinkling. It's exhilarating. Flying down the hill trying not to hit any pot holes or ride through any big puddles. Small puddles are okay. I made a left followed by another.
Then I got home.
Good night.

Thanks Cloudyb.getty

Rambleambleflamble

What if I woke up one morning or came home one night and in between my heater and kitchen there stood a new door. Closed. But one that wasn't there when I last left that space. Would I open it and make my own story? My own adventure into whatever it was. I'd probably expect a black hallway. Maybe with another door leading into my kitchen but maybe no door and no end in sight. But what if I turned the knob and walked out onto SE Hawthorne between 34th and 35th right in front of Cold Stone Creamery? My very own portal to yummy ice cream? I'M FOR IT. But either way, I know, if I walked in my apartment and saw a door that didn't exist before, I'd say, "Fuck that," and leave the way I came. I don't know, maybe not.
I'm still waiting for my acceptance letter from Hogwarts.

Every time someone tells me to come read something on a computer I think it's going to be one of those things where the bitch from The Exorcist pops up and scares the shit out of me.

Kudos to you if you caught the book and movie references from above.
I'll give you a hint: House of Leaves and The Adjustment Bureau.
Not far fetched considering I'm reading House of Leaves and I just saw The Adjustment Bureau. Pretty awesome book, pretty good movie. Oh, and if you didn't catch the Harry Potter reference, get the fuck off my blog.


All I wanted to say was the Max elevator floors are ALWAYS covered in piss.

I cannot

hold my liquor.

Hot Water

Crystal at Bagby Hot Springs - Oregon - 2010

Call me Bad Luck Bear

I moved to Portland July 21st, give or take a day. Since then I've been chewed up and spit out. Take a look at this shit:

-Asked to leave my apartment for having a dog. (Bright side: not evicted.)
-Three parking tickets.
-Speeding/no Oregon license/expired registration ticket all at the same time.
-Expired registration ticket while parked.
-License suspended; forgot the reason. (I got it reinstated a couple days later.)
-Photo ticket by parked van. (Got out of it because it was sent to my parents and they weren't driving. Not exactly sure how that works, but I got out of it.)
-Accident (my fault, cars still drivable)
-Another big ticket.
-Find out my cars totalled.
-License being suspended again for not reporting the accident even though I was told by the officer present that I didn't have to. (Got this yesterday, I need to call.)

So, I'm moving home.
FUCK PORTLAND

Pass the salt.

I really want to get away. Anywhere. Ever since I had that nightmare I've felt down or on edge. Like something bad is going to happen, and I've never really been the superstitious type. But no thanks, It's not like I've had the best of luck in Portland so far anyway. (I'll elaborate when I feel like it.) I want to not be stressed. I want to not be lonely. I want to feel like I'm wanted and appreciated. Getting away would at least give me a break from everything. But because of work, and a couple other factors, I know it can't happen soon.
You see, I work with my two cousins and another guy at a brewery/tasting room. That's it; there's four of us. I actually think we're getting a cook today so now there's five. But still. The tasting room is pretty much a restaurant and there's two of us on the floor- Wendy takes the bar and I take the tables. Sometimes we get help on Saturdays but that's it. So there's no asking for days off or calling in sick. The point of all this is, when the hell could "getting away" happen? Never, at least probably not until the next Jewish holiday. If I'm lucky, ha.

Then I got ready for work.

I'm sitting at one of two long tables in my uncle Allen's house, or a Library. Either way, we're on top of a hill. I glance out the window behind me and I can see fire and heat on the horizon. I know it's only a matter of time before it reaches us and every thing's over. The table I'm sitting at is in conversation while the other table is holding hands in prayer. Someone stands up from my table in a panic and rushes over to a book shelf by me. He's searching through books and finally finds what he's looking for. I guess he hid an array of drugs, just in case. He passes me a small vile of morphine which I immediately take as a shot but everyone else is smoking theirs? Then I'm passed a bowl with weed mixed into duck. I pass. I need fresh air. Outside, I decide to call my parents. The phone's ringing...

Then I woke up. Shit. I didn't know what to make of this dream/nightmare. I've never had an end of the world dream before. You know what, I would call it a nightmare because I was scared. What I felt was fear. Fear of the end. Fear of not being with the ones I love or even being able to talk to them. I wanted to go back to sleep but I didn't want the nightmare to continue.

I'm in a city but the streets are empty. No cars. No pedestrians. My cousin Alan is down the street taking pictures of a family. My other cousin Wendy is sitting at a table counting money or doing something business related. And I'm working. There's two tables outside and there are customers there. Two people I recognize from the tasting room. She orders a walk the dog (four three ounce tasters of four of our beers). I try to convince her to order just a glass of beer because I really don't want to pour four beers. She won't budge. To make it better he orders a walk the dog as well. I'm pissed. All of a sudden there are a bunch people in the streets. Mostly I see kids and inmates wearing orange jump suits. They're playing four-square. I walk up to Wendy and say, "I quit." She looks stunned. I tell her to turn around and look at everyone and what's happening. "Let's get out of here. Let's leave." Then Brandon's here. He grabs Wendy's hand and says that he's taking us away. We're in his car going over an over-pass and to our right we can see the fire and heat is a lot closer. To our left is the traffic jammed freeway. There's no hope. I try to call my parents while I still can, but realize it might be too late where they are and my stomach drops. The phone's ringing...and ringing...

Then I woke up, again. Ugh, the nightmare had continued. It made my whole day weird. But I think it means something, or at least part of it does.

Writing this out actually made this nightmare less epic to me. I kinda just want to delete the whole thing. What a waste of a waste of time.