Exactly Where I Want To Be

(October 1, 2013 - Photo of the Day)

Have you ever looked up from what you were doing to suddenly realize that you were in fact very grateful to be exactly where you were in that moment? To not want to be anywhere else at all? Today I had that feeling. In my ever snaking path of life I find myself in school once again, and at one point I looked up from my walking in the “quad” (for lack of a better word) and could not think of any place I would rather be at that moment then on that path, on my way to class. Which, quite frankly, was a bit of a shock to me after the last few days. It seems like every other way I turn my education is just getting in the way of the rest of my life.

Is it worth it?

Is it REALLY worth it?

This education that I have been drilled to believe that I will be a better person for. That I have convinced myself that I will be smarter, more attractive, better paid and an all-around more productive humane being for having finished.  

In the process of pursuing my education I have moved to Portland, Oregon. It’s a good city. But by no means is it a great one, and I have yet to feel any sort of connection to it. There is a blog, a truly fantastic blog that I love, called “Awash with Wonder” by a woman named Shannon. She recently wrote about her feelings toward San Francisco compared to her current city of Orlando, and the language she seemed to share with San Francisco, that she has been to only a few times – but not with Orlando, where she has lived for years now (the post is called “When a city feels like home” if you are interested). I am feeling a bit like that now. Only I have yet to find my true home. Portland and I definitely do not share a common language. We share a respect for what the other has to offer the other, and a few similar interests that keep us entertained. Unfortunately, Portland is my friend who is my friend because we happen to live in the same neighborhood and know some of the same people, but have no real particular interest in the other.

And then I have moments like today.

I am happy here. I am even involved here. I have no job yet – which may be part of the problem – but for once I have moved somewhere new that did not involve a pre-setup plan and I feel like I have a place here. A self-appointed place, but a place all the same. Portland has given me an outlet for all of the things that I have wanted to try over the years that are just not available in those itsy-bitsy towns I have a habit of living in.

My life so far has been a series of hopeful and sometimes glorious starts, very short middles, and sudden and complete stops so that another tangent can be explored. I am in no way prepared to give up my exploring, and feel like it would be dishonest to myself to do so. This City has given me yet another new start, which to the untrained eye may seem pretty par-for-the-course, but in fact is completely different. In everything that is truly embarrassing, I have to admit that I have put and exceptional amount of laziness into my life. I do not mean that I am an inherently lazy person – I always am trying to do something – but no real effort toward my life as a hole. Now, I have to choose to get up at 7am to be to class so that I may eventually get that degree and have something to show for what I am doing. I am joining groups and making long term commitments here. Ones that I would under no circumstances have joined in any other place before now because I knew a head of time that I would be leaving it all behind in just a few short months.

That translates into a few things happening. Those groups I am joining? They are writing groups, and racing groups, and groups that choose a time to dissect fairy tales. I am going to be signing up for Krav Maga here soon. I am making commitments to things that have always been close to my heart, and I find that I love that. When I first planned on moving here I figured it would be for the 9 months of the school year. Take the summers off, help keep the sanity of a very transient person in a very permanent place. I do not think that that is what will be happening now.

Because if, you haven’t noticed, it is when the insanity is at its peak that you look up and find yourself exactly where you want to be.

Happy Birthday.. To ME

Well, lets face it. My history with Birthdays is not that great. In years past I have had pretty crappy birthdays mostly spent in the ER, bailing people out of jail, or missing someone. Some years it was even a mixture of the two. I never grew up getting extravagent parties, but that I will never look upon that as bad because my upbringing made me the person I am today. The last two years I have actually spent pretty quietly. Last year I was taking care of my Grandmother in Arizona, and the year before that I was living in Everett with my parents and if I remember correctly we just had a quiet dinner at home.

This year has been different.. this year snuck up on me in the simplest of ways.

My day started out awesome when I went to breakfast with three close freinds. It was great, and I am so thankful that I was able to celebrate with them. They all know that I have a bit of a dislike for my birthday, but they love birthdays - so we compromise and I don't put up a fight for them acknowleding it and they keep it low key. I fully expected for that to be the last of any birthday stuff this year.

Then, I came to work...

In my world I don't tell people when my birthday is, and that rule seems to apply extra in a workplace setting. When I left for work I had curled my hair because I decided that that little confidence boost that it gives me was by birthday present to myself and then I had made myself a smoothie as a birthday sweet treat. I fully expected to maybe have a few people comment on my good mood and I would just tell them that it was a good day to be extra happy. I got here though, and I came upstairs and was waiting off to the side of the desk while the previous shift finished with their guests, and my manager Jay came up behind me and wished me a happy birthday. A suprise in and of itself at first. A pleaseant one though. For some reason it mattered to me that he knew (even though I know he gets told by HR when it is. They even supply him with a birthday card) and, that he made it a point to say it to me. Everyone else at the front heard him of course and wished me happy birthday as well, and even though some of them had just found out about it, them saying it still mattered to me. About ten minutes later the bar tender comes around the corner with a birthday cake complete with candles and ice cream! Jay had bought me a small cake and when the cooks had learned who it was from they got a little excited and added their own little flair. It was so cool. the last Birthday cake that I can remember is the one that my best friend had made me right before my accident three years ago. The rest of the day was normal. I had a few people that are just stupid, and a few guests that even wished me a happy birthday. My friend Rose even drove all the way out to the village to get me from work. She gave me a pearl bracelet. I even think it might be real.

My birthday was great. What made it better was that it was subtle. In the past it has been pointed out to me that I do not like attention, or recognition. I think that that is wrong now. I like recognition just as much as the next girl, I just don't like to be the center. I would much rather someone be sneaky about it than make a big production out of it.

So , I am now a quarter of a century old, and I feel I have started it off right.

A Foggy Morning

I am not really a good morning person. But sometimes, when I get up just a little bit earlier than usual, and all is still quiet around me, I love the morning. This morning was one of those mornings. I don't think I even talked before I was in the car and having to deal with traffic or commenting back to the radio. They can't hear me, but I definitaly think that I'm funny.
Before all of that though, it was a wonderful morning. My house was quiet. My street was quiet. There was also this heavy fog that had settled over everything. It just dubbed everything. This is my street -->

I moved back to the Northwest this last September after being gone for almost four years. It could just be from not being here for so long, but it seems like it is so much more northwesty than I ever rememeber it being. There is fog all the time. I am still getting used to how green it is. i love it actually. I always did back then, but now I think I love it even more because I am back into my writing. My imagination is going wild, and the atmosphere just helps it all along.

I think that fog brings things to life that usuallu would not. It subdues the obvious, and you can almost swear that you really did see that wood fairy hiding in that little patch of woods, but it was only out of the corner of your eye and it was gone by the time you could fully turn. For those darker sides of everyones imagination you see the shadows of vampires and witches from the books you read as a child. So many possibilities when the usual are taken away.