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.