Summer Harbingers

Murray warns of things to come... EVIL things to come... MWA HA HA HAAA!

I may just be a marked man. Today, as I got back to my car from my afternoon purchase of sour cream (not a regular event), I noticed a small brown wrapper smooshing something into the surface of the trunk of my car. A brown wrapper, like one you might see holding a peanut butter cup. Of course, my immediate thought was that this was some sort of legume mafia warning, but I cannot think of what they would warn me away from. Don't go to work? Okay. Stay away from Fred Meyer? Sure thing. Anyhow, I'm going to be on the look out for local Hershey's goons--or sticky fingered children--from now on.

The good news is that the first step in come of the coming changes--the new apartment--is taken care of. A neat little two-bedroom in a neat little plex near neat little Mount Tabor is where I'll be heading over to, piece by piece, come June 20th. The landlady seems totally cool, having reserved petting rights for the kitties, and it just overall feels like a good piece of change to have happen. I'm thinking it will help keep the wheels moving for the next big change--job--as well as give me the chance to really set up a place to my current habitation preferences. Plus, it's a total pad, sure to impress all the babes (ha!). The poor kitties, though; I don't think they have any clue that they're moving yet. I'm sure once things are really getting packed up they'll flip out, but for now they're getting their fill of the pleasant Portland summer evenings we're having.

Oh, summer in Portland, the return of the season of the freak. Everybody (and their dog) are out doing all sorts of outdoors activities, bums you haven't seen for months are branching out to bigger and better streets, and the farmer's markets are singing their sweet, sweet siren's song into my ready-to-make-a-pie hands. If it wasn't for this whole, oh, school/work/graduation/new job/exhaustion thing, I'd be all over it. Honestly, I'm still trying to fully recuperate from all this past business. The clouds are beginning to part, all right, and restful sanity, in all its glory, is beginning to reemerge in the puddle of vanilla pudding that is my brain.

One of the better rehabilitative activities I took part in this past weekend was burning up the dance floor at the Lola's Room 80's night extrava-ma-ganza. There was reminiscing with a rock star's wife about good music from the past couple of decades, much dancing, good conversation with an attractive girl I'd previously found myself interested in (a very welcome and pleasant surprise), the flurry of sensation that is pulsing 80's pop among a writhing crowd of tail shakers, the look-back after the drop off of aforementioned female, and such a satisfying drive back to home through a beautiful summer night. A few more of those evenings and I may just yet fully feel like myself again. I mean, rest and socialization on a full weekend! Who would have thought?

So, who knows; maybe these warm winds coming in are bringing better opportunities to grab hold of and make the most of. Perhaps the muse is coming back in new forms, or perhaps there's still plenty of rock face to climb before the next plateu is fully realized. Regardless, just like that first breath of new oxygen as the warm months arrive, I'm finding the taste of new opportunities to be sweet and envigorating, with little doubt that I am going to be making the most of what comes my way; the promise of sunshine is coaxing me out into the open and keeping me moving.

Oh, that and vanilla ice cream with bananas and cinnamon. Mmm.

--yo, que pasa--