Mr. Stealth

I don't know why this made me laugh...but it did.
It's just over a minute long. Go ahead and push play.

Ninja Cat @ Yahoo! Video

More Snow Pics

"They" are now saying that Portland hasn't had a snow like this in forty years. Well how about that. I've been kind of sort of stranded. I get out for a walk here and there; I spent a little time shovelling little alleys between the street and the house so we could get through.

Skid didn't know what to think of it all



Gwennie's garden like she's probably never seen it before. She's been out of town for all of this.




My little white truck got a little buried too.







While I was shovelling, Skid became a little more curious about coming and seeing what all the excitement was about.



Eventually he made it all the way out to the garden through the little snow alley. He wasn't too into it, but he ventured.





Fun, fun, fun!

Still snowing, still sitting.

I can't believe this weather, I've never experienced this in Portland. It's kind of cool, my friend Joan skied up to see me the other day - there are people in snowshoes and studded bike tires and snowmobiles cruising around on the otherwise vacant streets.




It would've been cooler if this happened in a week that I wasn't supposed to take a long drive down I-5 to visit friends and family over the Christmas holiday. I had just missed my window - had my appointment with Sam been cancelled a day earlier I would've gotten out. But, I've said this before, there are reasons for everything. Maybe I was just supposed to hang out here with Skid while Gwen and Ron are out...



so hang out I shall. I'm sorry I'm missing the Xmas crab feed at Grandma's house though.



Here's some photos.



Here's Joan - cruising up on her new cross country skiis.




This is one of the busiest thouroughfares in Portland, Foster Avenue. Not today!





The snow had built up outside gwen's back door. The imprint there is Skid's cat door. Needless to say....



Talk to you soonly!

Skid Show

I decided to use this snow day to snap up some film of Mr. Skid. So, if you don't like cat pictures.....















Okay, all done for now.

It's been snowing all day. All day. I was supposed to leave for Ashland this morning, heading through to visit Corbyn and Kid on my way to the Bay Area, but instead I've been watching snow drifts build up around the neighbor's SUV.

It's given me the opportunity to sit, do some writing and reading...and start watching the fourth season of The Wire (one of the best shows written and produced ever).

It's also given me time to settle in a little. I had this day yesterday...one of those days where things just aren't right, a misstep, a hiccup, a schism...call it what you will, it was one of those.



I started my day volunteering down at Sisters of the Road for Customer Appreciation Day - they put me in the dish pit at my request, and I was having a good time, but everything just felt off...it's been over a year since I've been there. I didn't recognize many of the customers, didn't know all the volunteers or even many of the staff; and they didn't know me. It wasn't bad or even awkward, just evidence of time that has passed and a space that's been filled by the void I left. So, uncomfortable would be a better choice of words.

I then headed home to change for my meeting with the Mayor-Elect only to find that that meeting was cancelled due to the storm Portland was expecting to find itself in over the weekend. That was all fine, but my previously jovial conversation with Mr. Adams secretary was cooler, he didn't remember who I was and what I was doing with the Mayor-Elect's time. Why should he? I'm a writer without an assignment or a magazine behind me. I'm still surprised he's granting me this interview at all. I had to remind him of my purpose and he rescheduled the time, letting me know his press secretary will be with him. It was fine, just a little reality check.



After that I read an email from a job I was hoping for, telling me that I didn't get the position. The employer was kind enough to say that he liked my work, "you're a good writer and could be up to the task," he said. But, I was one of 100 applications and someone just beat me. I would've liked the job, it wasn't reporting or article assignments, it was writing copy for a catalogue - nothing to sneeze at. I would've learned how to write tight, descriptive prose quickly and effectively in order to gather someones attention. Necessary tools for anybody wanting to write.

The exciting thing here, I suppose the hopeful thing, is that it opened up a new possibility for me. I never thought about being a copy writer. And at least one employer liked my stuff just a little. Perhaps the next one will like it enough to hire me.

And so...I fussed. The rest of the night. Ate almost an entire pepperoni pizza by myself (gwen's gonna love that). Got some rentals. Laid on the couch. Perhaps not the best of choices - but a choice nonetheless...we'll get 'er back.

It is still snowing. Twelve hours now of steady, windy, flurries. A couple feet of snow has dropped now, my chances of leaving town tomorrow is evaporating. The highways seem clear south of here, but its a mess otherwise. So, I'm staying put for now.

And watch all this amazing weather instead of try to negotiate it.

Anxiety

So I've been having all these dreams...still. One friend says I'm tuned into all the craziness in the world; another thinks it's more personal, my dreams are related to my apprenhension around my current situation (no job, money running out, etc.)

Could be a good old fashioned combination of both - all I know is I'm getting a little tired (literally) of being chased by guns, maniacs and tsunami style waves on a nightly basis. Not to mention Burt Reynolds. He was in my dream the other night too. He wasn't really doing anything, he was just there. And that, my friends, was frightening in its own right.

I'm not going to sit here and bemoan my fate. I don't even know what's in store - and I know there are people in a lot shakier situations than myself...but I'm having to work on this trust thing more than I'm used to.

I'm a planner. I like making plans. I like the list. And even with all the freefall of the Spain trip, the plan in itself kept me moving and motivated.

Right now I'm in a pretty complete freefall. I know nothing. Well, I know I'm moving into The Big Purple House on January 2nd, and I'm looking forward to that. And I have a couple of gigs with Monica to do non-violence trainings. I have a few articles that are floating around hoping to be picked up. I'm going to a couple of shows. But...I don't have a job and I can't turn on the radio (thank god I don't have a television) without forecasters forecasting doom. I swear, some of them have even taken to chuckling, or talking with a smirk 'cause the economic news just gets worse and worse.

And yet...and yet...there is a weird excitement about it all. I know, it'll be okay. I mean, whatever happens, it'll be okay. And I mean okay in the sense of, I will stay housed and I won't starve, I'm a ways off from that. So, you know, shelter and food are the essentials and those are covered.

I don't know. I don't even know why I'm telling you all this. Just saying hi.

Maybe that's how I'll get to meet Renee...

“There is dreaming and then there is dreaming”
from The Woman of Wyrrd by Lynn V. Andrews

Yeah, Andrews gets to have all kinds of fun and adventure in her dreams. Meeting elves and fairies, dramatic windblown falconers and billowy women who represent both past and future. I guess I'm just not that advanced.

My dreamworld of late has been filled with apocolyptic visions; mushroom clouds, tsunamis and airplane crashes of which I am close witness to. I have enough time to know what's coming and can work on escape. Once I had a person under my charge to safekeep. Of course, I wake up before any real resolve. Did I perish or was I saved?

Last night I was involved in a trifecta of disturbing scenarios. All touching on my deepest wounds – those things that pain me the most – and while they weren't apocolyptic in the global sense, the emotions the imagery brought rendered me equally helpless.



No one really knows why we dream. There are theories, mostly scientifically physical. There was a great Star Trek episode (Next Generation) wherein the crew was being kept from dreaming through some alien force. They could sleep...but they couldn't dream...so everyone starting having these hallucinations in their waking hours, paranoia and fear were rampant. There, the explanation went, that our psyche needs time to rest itself, play out our fear scenarios in a less tangible form so that we can get about the real business of the day when we're awake.

I'd buy that over simple chemistry.

Then there is the belief that we can break through dimensions in our dreaming and really get to work. If you've ever experienced lucid dreaming, where you can direct your dreams from within them, then you can go with that concept.

I've experience lucid dreaming only a couple of times, both by accident (some people work devotedly to get to that state). But, I am not that evolved a human so I used my lucid dreaming to simply fly around the dreamscape.

It's a rich world out there in outer consciousness and it's probably better not to get too caught up in the whys and why nots of things. But if we really are working through our fears in the dark hours of the night, I know I've got a full cache, so can we just move on?