Here's the thing...



So the thing is… I have a deadline.  Well, to be clear, I have multiple deadlines because I’m in the midst of doing multiple things.  And of course, each thing has a deadline.

The big deadline is 3 months away, so you might say, “Well, hey, no sweat…3 months is a long time.”  But it’s really not.  It’s not at all.  3 months are going to fly by and before I know it, the deadline will approach.  The day will be here…knocking on my door.  “Your 3 months is up.  Over.  Kaput.  Where’s your project?  We’ve come to collect it.”

And this is not one of those things that you can quickly put together 2 or 3 days before the deadline.  Oh no…not at all.  I NEED these 3 months to accomplish what I need to accomplish.

But then I have other deadlines.  More immediate deadlines.  I have, what I call, my bread and butter deadlines. Daily deadlines that are my bread and butter.  Suddenly, I seem to have a lot more bread and butter deadlines than ever before.  Which is kind of a good thing, but at the same time they cannot be ignored because after all, they are my bread and butter.  So obviously, these immediate deadlines get my priority.  And after I have accomplished what I need to do for my bread and butter, I am absolutely exhausted, knocked out, depleted and I think about the looming deadline 3 months away.   And I think, “Well I have a little time for that one. Don’t I?”

But no.  I don’t have time.  Because now it’s the end of July, and August is already fully plotted out, and before I know it, September will be here and bring with it all that it will bring.  As October rolls around, the chaos may dissipate and some semblance of order may find its way into my life.  But then I will only have 1 month.  October.  And I cannot fully count on October being my friend and providing me with the time, focus and concentration I need to complete the BIG DEADLINE.

I have to find a way to make it work.  I have to.  There isn’t any alternative.  I am a writer.  And I write for my bread and butter and I write for the big deadlines, and I live in the chaos and I get it done.  I find a way.  I have to.  There is no room for discussion here.  I find a way. There is no other option but to do it.

Any suggestions???

Down the Rabbit Hole

image design by Emek

Wonderland is alive and well and exists in the form of the Oregon Country Fair. Please understand, this is no ordinary country fair with folks selling apple pies and growing gigantic zucchinis and raising enormous pigs. Nope...not even close.

This fair is like entering a parallel universe where giants and other mythical creatures roam freely throughout the magical woods. There are artisans galore happily offering their wares including pottery, jewelry, candles, soaps, and artwork of all kinds. Food of every kind will permeate your senses...a veritable smorgasbord of delight. A menu for every palate: vegan, vegetarian, carnivore and those with a heavy sweet tooth...it's all there for you to partake and indulge and decadently devour!

It is not at all unusual to be greeted by a parade of colorful characters and musicians at every bend along your journey through this dreamlike world. I can't even tell you all the sights and sounds I saw when I visited the fair this weekend, but I will tell you it I was on sensory overload.

I didn't know where to look first--the Cirque du Soleil type of folks seemed to be everywhere...there were magic shows, musical concerts, puppets, vaudeville, street performers and anything and everything you can think of to delight your senses. Very scantily-clad men and women with their bodies painted in delightful colors and flowers and it seemed like the '60's were alive and well and happening in Eugene Oregon.

The hippies were everywhere because here, at the fair, everyone is coming from a place of peace and love. There are the die-hard hippies...holdovers from Woodstock...the ones that partied with Jerry and the Dead...there are the new hippies, the teen hippies, the baby hippies and even the hippie wannabes...because let's face it...at this fair, everyone wants to be a hippie.

The port-o'-potty I used (which of course they refer to as "The Honey Bucket") reeked of weed and patchouli...not a bad combination when you have to pee outside. Frankly, I was delighted not to smell piss and shit!

I enjoyed myself immensely... a big thanks to the D-man for taking me down there and tuning me in, turning me on, and letting me drop out...if only for a day. Today, I emerge from the Rabbit Hole...but I wouldn't mind staying down there a little longer. Oh well...there's always next year. Oregon is cool!

Peace & Love Everybody!

 These are not my feet!

A Pillar of Salt

photo by Philiphannis

Sometimes I find myself missing my old life.  And then I wonder why...I'd rather make something of this new life then mourn the old one. 

If I keep looking behind me, I might just turn into a pillar of salt.  Best to keep moving forward...

Storytime with the kiddies

image by archanN

It's hot today.  But I have a lot of work to accomplish.  Didn't want to stay in my apartment; I'm afraid I wouldn't get anything done.  So I head on down to the local coffeehouse.  Nice vibe.  Free wi-fi.  Lots of electrical outlets.  It's crowded and I'm a little daunted, but I know it will ebb and flow throughout the day, so I find a table, plant myself, plug in and off I go. 

And then I see the sign: "Storytime today at 10AM."  It's set up right in front of where I'm sitting. And I see the guy with the tall black top hat and the woman with clown makeup and pigtails and I think..."Really? Today? Oh boy..." 

There is nowhere else to move; every other table is filled, and if this wasn't the designated storytime area, it would be a killer location.  How long can it last I wonder?  So  here I am...hunkering down, with the lilting sound of the clown-like woman providing the soundtrack to my day. "Can you see the star in the picture?  Great job!"  And little ones, little ones, little ones everywhere. 

One little girl walked in wearing sunglasses and looking like she owned the joint the minute she got here.  The clown woman said hello and asked her how she was today.  She said, "I'm great!  Saw a unicorn on the way over here."  Wow...I wish I could start my day out with such enthusiasm.  I looked out the window to see if I could spot the unicorn...not one in sight.

It's not as distracting as I thought it would be.  The kids are relatively well-behaved, and if they don't start screaming or crying, I should be able to get my work done.  And of course, they should be gone within the hour (I'm hoping.)  And really...you never know...it might turn out to be a good day after all.  I might just see a three-legged dragon or something on my way home today.  One thing about being around children...anything is possible.  Except maybe...getting your work done.

Father's Day

I live across the street from an over-priced hipster joint that has a line out the door every weekend with throngs of people dying to make their own pancakes.  The sidewalk is flooded with patrons waiting for a table that has it's own griddle.  Once seated, you can choose a variety of different batters and literally make your own pancakes on the table right in front of you.  It's a novel idea, but it's way too expensive for my taste and I'm not sure it's worth the wait.

Today, Father's Day 2011, I walked past the trendy cafe and saw an even bigger crowd than usual.  Lots of Dads were hanging out, clutching their cups of coffee and obviously enjoying the time with their families.  There were Grandpas with their older, grown-up kids; there were young Daddies hoisting the little ones on their shoulders; and everyone was laughing, happily and patiently waiting for their moment in front of the grill, eagerly anticipating the Mimosas and Bloody Marys that would accompany their delicious breakfast fare. 

Today, I think of my Dad, long gone now, but ever present in my memory.  I wonder what he would make of me as this pseudo grown-up person and if he would be proud of my life.  He lives in me every day; every time I crack a corny joke or have a splash of temper, he's there. 

I miss you Dad.  I wish you were here.  But as corny as this may sound, I see you in my dreams quite often and I thank you for taking the time to visit from wherever you are.  Happy Father's Day Pop!  I love  you, you ol' rapscallion you!

Weekend Highlights

Come on...tell the truth.  You just did a double-take on the photo above, didn't you?  Well, don't worry...you're not seeing things.  That really is a guy riding his bike naked.  And that's exactly what I saw this weekend...oh the perks of living in such a silly city known as Portland.

We were driving down the road...me and D...and suddenly D says, "Hey!  That guy is naked!"  I turn to my right, and sure enough, there is one lone guy riding his bike sans clothing!  I did the requisite double-take but there was no mistaking it. 

He seemed like he was having a very enjoyable afternoon ride on his bike.  He was wearing a hat (apparently to protect his head from the sun, but obviously nothing else was protected.  I sure do hope he was smeared with SPF everywhere else!) He was wearing socks and sneakers and that my friends is all she wrote!  Just had his birthday suit on and nothing more.  Hmm....wonder where he kept his wallet?

No cars were honking or making any type of spectacle out of this spectacle.  I guess everyone here in Portland takes this type of thing in stride.  D didn't even honk because as he told me, he was too flabbergasted to even think about honking.  It took us both a couple of minutes for our brains to register what we were seeing.

I cracked up laughing.  I was highly amused.  I hope the cyclist got home safe without any incident (meaning I hope he wasn't arrested for indecent exposure or any other hassle.)  I truly believe he was simply taking advantage of the lovely weather we were having. 

Sometimes after a long, cold, rainy winter, you just have to get out there on your bicycle and ride.  Naked.  The motto here is "Keep Portland Weird."  Amen to that!  Hope you all had an equally enjoyable weekend. With or without your clothes on!



Home

As many of  you  know, I moved from Southern California to Portland, Oregon last October.  The reasons behind the move are varied, and the act of picking up and moving a long distance is traumatic enough.  To say I downsized in order to move to Portland would be an understatement; though I held on to many of my cherished belongings, and put the most important things in my little car and drove north.  The rest of my things stayed in storage.

Last week, I returned to Southern California to retrieve my items out of storage.  There was more stuff in that little storage facility than I had remembered.  So there I was, once again discarding more items and repacking. It was emotional. I kept telling myself that it was only "stuff."  But it was my stuff!  Every object had history behind it.  Since not everything could fit in the car or in my new place in Portland, I inevitably had to let even more things go. Downsizing again.  But my motto has always been less is more, so I guess it's a good thing.  I guess...

On the drive back to Portland, I got to thinking about the meaning of home.  Southern California is so familiar to me.  I know where everything is; my family lives there and it was my home for many, many years.  But I never truly felt like I belonged there.  I always felt like I was on the outside looking in.  I've lived in many different cities and I've always had that similar feeling...that I was an outsider.  And so, because of that, I've moved around a lot...hoping to one day find the place that clicked.  That one day I could identify with a certain city and truly call it home.

Is Portland home?  I'm not sure yet.  I still have mixed feelings about this place, but I haven't even been here a year so it's too soon to tell.  I like it here a lot, but it takes more than that to make a place a home.  I am doing the best I can; finding ways to become part of the Portland community.  There are many opportunities here, so I have hope that I will one day hunker down and feel that this is where I belong.

For now, I simply ponder what it means to call a place "home."  Yes, now all my stuff is in one place and that feels good.  Secure.  But I need something more...yet whatever that something is, remains elusive.  I hope I find it here in Portland.  I'm not sure I have another long distance move in me.  Not for awhile anyway.  So I'm hunkering down...putting the books on the shelves and the pictures on the wall.  And for today, I am home.