patient_travelr

This Thanksgiving I am spending without family, friends, or loved ones. A few minutes ago I made a reservation for dinner at Urban Farmer. It's been a long time since I've taken myself out for dinner I fear I may have forgotten how. But I guess you just have to get back in the ol' eating alone scene sometime, so it might as well be now. They say it's just like riding bike. You never really forget how to do it, but I'm so nervous. Will I like me? What if I have to leave early? Should I bring me a gift, or flowers or something? Is it too soon for that kind of thing? I just don't know the rules anymore.

Oh well. Happy Thanksgiving.

Sometimes I think I must have died. All this, whatever this happens to be, is just the light show your brain shows you to hide the slow decay of your body. This must be heaven, I think to myself. Not the heaven the good people get. Sitting with God Almighty in eternal peace and fulfillment; not that heaven. The heaven the just good enough people get. A heaven that is alright. Kind of nice. Not a bad way to spend the end of time. There are hassles; there are worries. But in life didn't I spread worry? Wasn't I a hassle? If this is heaven it's the heaven I deserve.

And sometimes, when I'm not looking at the bills or trying to figure out what to do with my time, it feels a lot like I would want heaven to be. I feel loved, which isn't something I really felt a lot of in my life. Not without some kind of chemical catalyst. I feel safe. I look out my window and I see a beautiful city. When I walk outside I breath air cleaner than I ever knew growing up. If I get sick, I am taken care of. When I am hungry I can get almost anything I am hungry for. With the exception of a good pizza, but hey, I said this wasn't That Heaven. They have a dozen perfect pizza places over on that Heaven. Maybe if I'd lied a little less, and studied a little harder I might be able to walk next door and get a better pizza.

But this is as close to heaven as I think I'll ever be, and it makes me wonder if the last 2 years haven't been the first 2 minutes of my brain shutting down as it slowly uses up the last of the blood pumped into it. Every second counts in a way they never have before, and I am amazed that every second has felt as good as it has. Even when it sucks.

I posted this in Facebook:

I think if conservatives were REALLY against gay marriage they should prove it, and not just outlaw marriages between same sex couples but invalidate all marriages where one member is gay. Why haven't we seen that legislation?

After I posted it I realized that the biggest problem of being a liberal with a sense of humor is that the conservatives always come back and do the crazy shit we thought would be really funny because it seemed so absurd. It's as if that concept is lost on them, and that pushing the envelope of stupidity should be taken seriously with no concern for hypocrisy or consequence.

And I find that now, sadly, if this legislation does pop up somewhere I won't be surprised. Just sad.

Dear Super Jesus,

Since you've seen fit to provide me with an awesome girlfriend, a sweet apartment, AND Skinny Puppy and They Might Be Giants performing within a week of each other I will not insult or make fun of you for a whole week. Starting tomorrow.

I haven't updated this in a while not because I don't have anything to write about, but because I'm overwhelmed by how much there is to say. Every day since I've moved in I've done something, and all of those somethings have felt amazing. Tonight I took the streetcar down to Powell's and bought a book. When I came home I set up an area near the sliding glass door to the porch to sit and read. A small folding tray, a lamp and a reclining chair setup next to my view of tall trees and taller towers of steel and light. The last few hours have been spent reading and it's been nice.

Life has changed, and with the changes come fear and hope. I'm managing to not get swept away in my fear, or foolishly cling to my hopes. I'm moving slowly, and waiting to see what happens next. I've found a donut shop other than Voodoo that is more convenient to reach, and cheaper. Arguably better, but they don't do the wild and crazy donuts that make Voodoo what it is. But when I want a $.80 chocolate bar donut I can hop on the street car and be there in 5 minutes instead of trying to hike over to Voodoo and back.
On a similar note, when I want groceries I don't have to either walk for an hour or wait for someone to give me a ride. I walk downstairs and across the street and suddenly I have food again. The same with a Chipotle burrito, or some really good Chinese food. All within easy reach.

Of course this is a city, and it is full of all sorts of different people. It's the crazies that always stand out, and in the four days I've been riding the trains around I've seen a fair number of crazies. Old men who talk to themselves, young men who start fights with anyone who makes eye contact, middle aged women talking to anybody who will listen. Although now I'm living alone I have more contact with the outside world than I've had... maybe ever. At least since I lived in Hollywood, and that was 15 years ago.

It's funny that this is what I moved to Portland for. To live this dream. When I visited Darren back when he lived just up the street from here, this is what I wanted. This is where I wanted to be. It's taken me 4 years to get here but I did it.

I can't wait to see what happens next.

It doesn't take much for me to be impressed by a politician anymore, and this impressed me

The emotional weight of moving never presses on me until I start packing. For weeks I've been making plans, calling movers, arranging utilities. None of that brings home the idea that you are leaving things behind, and going somewhere new like placing a book into a box. Waves of nostalgia and contemplation of an unknown future collide and swirl to create a numbing bittersweet cocktail.

So I stopped packing, and watched Adventureland. That didn't help. Nostalgia compounded by nostalgia has left me listless and morose. Where was I in 1987? I was 13. Now... I'm no longer 13. I don't feel as old as I am. I suppose few people ever do when they stop to remember where they were when they were 13.

And so, looking at the boxes that have to be moved... again, I find myself stunned at the story arc my life has followed. I still don't know how it ends, and I suppose that's why I'm still here. I can't leave until this story has an ending. One more satisfying than "He lived until he died." Which, by the way, is what I want on my tombstone if I have one.

And that's one of the many problems with me. I'm an incredibly morbid individual, and all examination of my past becomes a contemplation of the future. Every move to a new home, and there have been many, is a reawakening to the experience that everything is a temporary condition. It makes me realize why people buy a house and stay there and never leave. There is comfort in consistency. Having one place you go back to where you can hide your boxes of stuff and never unpack them. Never open them up unless you have to, and only on days when you want to feel time heavy in your mind. Never because you have to.

An hour ago I felt full of wisdom. Not so much at this moment.

( let's mix some metaphors, shall we? )

A move is always a new beginning. Sometimes it's easier to look back and face familiar nostalgia than to brave an uncertain future. Eventually the future always finds you. Even if you try and hide under old boxes full of stuff from 30 years of moving. Might as well just stick them in a closet somewhere, forget about them, and go for a drive.

It's a Descendents and Fugazi kinda morning.

Money is in the bank. As of today I am a paid writer.

My all time favorite Ministry song in a way I never bothered to listen to it.




I'm willing to bet the translation is off at some points, but good enough.

Quick update while I wait for my ride to dialysis.

I'm done with feeling sorry for myself for now. As it usually happens, my overwhelming self pity started to screw up things in my life, and when faced with the choice of sinking into a comfortable sorrow or acting like a grown up and being responsible about things, I did the latter.

I feel much better. Sort of.

Part of my "taking charge of my life" was taking a bus ride down to Washington Square to buy a copy of Arkham Asylum and The Graveyard Book. Sadly those could not be bought in the same store, or even in the same section of the wide expanse of Washington Square. It involved a lot of walking, and now my hip, my knees, and my feet kinda hate me and wish I would go back to feeling sorry for myself.

Well suck it up, limbs, we're walking to the store tomorrow!

Oh, I also mailed off my contract. I was informed that my guide is now up for member/customer review. How well it does (based on a simple 5 star rating system) determines how much my initial payment is, and how much I will get in royalties. So I hope it does well. If comparison to their previous guide counts for anything, the Shadow Odyssey guide they had before mine was about 20 pages. Mine was 67. I win. Now let's hope I get paid like it.

Sony is creating a reality show, and the prize is a contract position as a beta tester for PS3 games. That's right, a limited contract as a beta tester. That means no benefits, low pay, and you're the most disposable member of the team. Woohoo! That is totally worth competing against 50 other people for, and embarrassing myself on the internet.

Now all I need is a webcam to enter....

Here is the dumbest thing I have heard in the last few days. Not surprisingly it is from people trying to revoke rights given to same sex couples, this time in Washington:

"Several people I've talked to are ok with most of the act... But they can't support allowing children, who don't have a choice in the matter, to be brought up in a same sex household."

Read that again. I dare you. If your head hasn't exploded, or tried to escape out your nostrils and fling itself in front of a car, then you, much like me, may be a writhing cauldron of anger and frustration at at least one of your fellow human beings.

Oh if only children could choose who raised them. Wouldn't that be a nicer world? I would have been raised by cybernetic astronauts, and they would have sent me to summer camp on the International Space Station. If not I would have simply submitted the proper form to declare them secretly homosexual. They would have been dragged off and shot, and I could have been placed with the family I ordered. That would have been awesome.

Here's a quick run down of Orion's life as of late:

- I've been walking to the store every day or every other day. Chocolate shakes at Baskin Robbins on the way are my reward, and they are delicious.

- I am flying down to Orange County for 36 hours of girlfriend time in September. This will have to tide me over until October when I get a week of girlfriend time during which will also be the move to Awesome Apartment of Awesomeness.

- Two tickets have been bought to Skinny Puppy in November. If there's another show in California at the end of the tour I'm considering buying tickets to that along with plane tickets down there.

- I have a driver's license, mother fuckers! That's right, I am once again licensed to legally operate a vehicle. I passed the test on Friday, but have been a little preoccupied to make a note of it on Livejournal.

So now I'm sitting in front of my computer listening to Mythmaker. I love the first half of this album. The last half not as much, but I still consider this a damn good Skinny Puppy album. All in all it's a good night.

I just watched Rambo. Yeah, I don't know why either. When it was over though I started writing something in my head, so I wrote it down.

( snippet )


Someone probably wrote the same thing better somewhere else, but I liked it.

Disney is buying Marvel Comics. Like, the whole company, not just a few to read while they wait for the Jonas Brothers to make another album, or show, or whatever it is those guys make. I can only imagine what horrors will be unleashed on the world. The Dazzler movie gets made staring Hannah Montana. a New Mutants movie finally gets serious consideration. Secret Wars staring the cast of the Mickey Mouse Club. Spider Man 5, guest staring characters from A Bug's Life.

Hmmm, Pixar and Marvel Comics... maybe something good can come out of this.

One thing I haven't done while I've lived here is walk out of this complex. It's a long walk out the front gate (about 1/2 mile), and it's almost entirely up hill. Except for the first part just outside my front door, which is on a steep hill going down. This means it's a lot of walking uphill to get out, and then a steep walk uphill when I get back. I've been able to make it as far as the front office before, which is about halfway out, but even when I've managed to get that far I've asked for a ride back on one of their nifty golf carts.

Last night I decided I'd make it out of the complex, and across the street to Baskin Robbins for some ice cream. All total the trip took about an hour and a half. I walked until my legs ached and my knees hurt (which wasn't that far), and then sat on a curb and waited. Once I caught my breath I stood up and walked some more. Rinse, repeat, until eventually I was standing at the counter ordering my chocolate shake.

It tasted like victory.

On my way back I hit one of those, "This moment will never happen again," times. Looking out over the trees at dusk to an apartment complex I don't think I'll ever be coming back to. In a few short weeks this will all be another collection of memories. That place at that time with those people.

It seems to me I've taken a "single serving friend" approach to life. From takeoff to landing we have our time together. I don't expect anything more of people, and I don't expect people to expect more from me. Of course takeoff to landing could be anywhere from an hour, to a month, to a year. Some of us are on longer trips together, and that's cool. One lifetime is a single serving too. Eventually one of us is going somewhere the other can't or won't go, and in the meantime we'll make the best of the time we have together.

It's been a great year in this building. Now it ends with me walking away.