I hope you all had a very merry Christmas
And that you are enjoying this third day of Hanukkah
And that Kwanzaa will be a feast to remember this year
And that the winter solstice (Yule) was a blessing.
Peace to all. May you all find your path.
Category Archives: Personal
Now that I know
…just gonna shout out a big thanks! to my aunt and uncle. My birthday present is always appreciated, and always just what I need 😀
Love you both!
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You must do as you’re told!
I’ve always had a problem doing what I’m told. I much prefer having suggestions presented to me, so I can analyze the options, and then decide for myself if that’s the best choice. UNFORTUNATELY…that’s not really what work is about. I’ve tried really really hard to get myself into a position where I can do things that way, and I’ve gotten sorta close. But there are times when I just need to do what I’m told, turn off my brain, and just do it. If I leave my brain on, I will resist. I can’t help it. If you want me to do stuff your way with my brain on, you must get me to “buy in” to your way of doing it, which means you must explain it to me before I will budge, and realize that I may disagree. (I might still agree to do it your way, but I’ll have to make sure you understand that I disagree with your approach). If you want me to just do it your way with no explanation, then I need to turn my brain off. And I mean OFF. Little tasks for me to complete with really no skill whatsoever. Which means you now have the headache of splitting up the big task into tiny little baby steps. Haha! Much better to let me do it in a way that we both agree is the best.
I’m starting to realize that this is true outside of work too.
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The start of the blahs.
In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve been feeling a bit unmotivated about posting as of late. However, it seems to have permeated every facet of my life the past few weeks. I don’t seem to be motivated to do much of anything. It’s been bothering me quite a bit – I don’t see myself as the kind of person who sits around all day long watching TV or playing on the computer. But that’s exactly what I’ve been doing, and I hate it. I don’t mind being a couch potato for part of the day. But all day? That’s just not ok in my book, and yet that’s exactly what I’ve been doing. Meanwhile my garage project is still unfinished, there’s shopping to be done, trees to buy, presents to wrap, lights to hang…the list goes on and on, especially with the holidays coming up fast.
So I think I finally figured out what’s going on: I have started experiencing the winter blahs. Yes, I know it’s still fall. There’s no snow. It still hits the mid-50s during the day. The sun still shines occasionally. However, it still feels like winter is standing right over my shoulder, towering over me in a most threatening manner. The leaves are all gone, and it’s dang chilly at night. Times like these, I wonder if my mental well-being would be more suited to a locale which experiences more sunshine than rain, more heat than cold. Like…Mexico. Then I can run around with a jacket on when it’s 70 degrees in the wintertime and say “My it’s so cold today!!” and smile, just like the locals. I’ll get nice and tan. I won’t own a car. I’ll eat lots and lots of huevos rancheros, and go horseback riding. I’ll have picked up enough Spanish to get by in about a month, and I’ll be fluent in six. I’ll open up a little computer school, and teach basic computer skills and web development and stuff like that. I’ll buy myself a little villa, with a cook and a maid, and I’ll pay them decent wages, and I’ll have heated tile in the bathroom.
Well…someday.
Thanks for coming along on my little dreamboat trip. I feel a smidgen better.
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Thoughts for the day
I’m trying to buy a car.
So I found this awesome little deal. It was perfect; right options, right price, right miles, even the right colors. I drive an hour away to meet the guy (I asked him to meet me halfway, but it turned out to be more like 4/5ths of the way for me). The test drive goes really well, until we start talking about the title. Turns out is has a ‘Branded’ title, whatever that means. So, still hopeful, I go home and call him with the fax number for my credit union, who I’m getting a loan from. I ask him for the VIN number so I can run a carfax on it, and wouldn’t you know it – it has a junk title. Apparently it was in a bad wreck back in April – only 6 months ago. WTF???????
Could’ve saved me a lot of time and effort if I just asked about it beforehand. >< I think it should be mandatory to state if a car has a questionable title in any advertisement listing. Otherwise, you end up wasting your entire night for nothing. Phooey.
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Fond memories of the far right coast – continued…
Alrighty then, where were we? Ah, yes…I had just discovered the ‘transitional housing’ by the train station. I ended up only staying there one night, thankfully – those cots weren’t that comfortable. Everyone that stays there has to do some sort of an intake interview with someone who works there, and I was no exception. When they found out I was under 21, they told me that there was a youth shelter on the other side of downtown. (I had, by this point, discovered that Portland was not really a ‘quaint little town’, but an actual city, and a fairly nice one at that.) They said I could stay there that night, but I should head over there the next day.
There were lots of people staying at this shelter. Many of them were kinda scary. Some of them seemed really nice though, just down on their luck – much like myself. One in particular I found to be somewhat interesting, as he carried a guitar around with him. I, of course, decided to strike up a conversation with him. I was an artiste, you remember. So we got to talking. I can’t remember his name for the life of me, but I’ll never forget the things he told me. He showed me around town a bit, bought me (a very meager) lunch, and was just generally terrifically nice to me. We both layed out our life stories, or particularly the part of our lives that brought us to our shared situation. He was quite a bit older than me, probably in his mid to late 30’s. It’s amazing how quickly you form bonds with people when your circumstances are less than desirable.
When I had told him how I ended up homeless in a strange town, and that I was going to head to West Virginia, he told me something I’ll never forget:
“So you’re just going to run away again?”
I remember that that statement hit me like a brick in the gut. I’d never looked at my actions in that light, but once that light came on, it blinded me. That’s exactly what I was doing. Running away from my responsibilities, running away from facing not just the things I had to do, but facing my life. It was past time that I took control of my life, and made it happen, instead of just going with wherever it took me.
He also said to me “You know, Portland isn’t such a bad place. It’s a good place to make a stand, to start your life, to make things happen for you.”
So I did. It took me a while, but I did it. I made my stand, and I named Portland my home. There were times when I almost moved away, went back home, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I love this place, and the experiences I’ve had here – good and bad. And right now, I wouldn’t trade my life for anyone’s.
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Fond memories of the far right coast
There are a few constants in my conversational life:
- I will get asked if my hair is naturally curly, and when I answer yes, the response will be various levels of envy which I do not understand in the least
- If the fact comes up that I was born in New York, I will get asked how I came to be out on the left coast.
So here goes. Once and for all, for posterity’s sake…here is The Story.
The year is 1989 and I was living in Syracuse, NY, after a miserable bout of trying to go to college. I was working for the Syracuse University Parking and Transportation department, a job laden with possibilities, all of which end up with me being sub-poverty level. My friend, co-worker and roommate, Judy, her friend Al, and I were all hanging out outside our apartment one day around October, bemoaning our circumstances. We were all three of us obviously meant for much more than this, we decided. And we all knew that Syracuse is the armpit of NY State, so that is certainly no place for such gifted young artistes as ourselves.
What to do, what to do. We decided that Out West was the place for us. And wouldn’t you know, Judy’s parents lived in Vancouver Washington, just a hop over the river from the quaint little town of Portland, where we could certainly find some work. From there, it was just a few miles down the coast to San Francisco, and on to Los Angeles, where our gifts and talents would surely be appreciated.
That was the plan, in a nutshell. Judy would leave for her parents house and grease the wheels. I would go home, say my goodbyes, and meet her after Christmas in Vancouver. We’d stay with her parents until we could find a place in Portland; by then Al would have finished his schooling up and would come out by bus. From there, we’d continue to work until we had enough money to head down to San Fran or LA. What we did at that point I don’t think we really considered, but what the hell, it was a big city with big city life and big city prospects. And the streets would be lined with gold.
It was all going according to our plans….until Judy and Al started getting a little cozy in the one bedroom hovel we were sharing. I was completely repressing the issues of my sexuality, despite the fact that I had already dated the same sex once. I wrote it off to the probability that I was bisexual. But when my jealousy of Judy and Al’s growing relationship started to cramp their style, they kicked me out. Boy was that ugly. They wouldn’t let me take half of my stuff. That guy Al could be damn intimidating.
So, let’s analyze the situation. I had no job, no money, no friends or family and no place to stay in a strange town. Pretty bleak outlook, to say the least. So I hailed a cab back to the train station, the only other place in Portland I knew, where I could collect my thoughts and figure out my next steps. Of course I had no money to pay the cab driver, and to her credit she didn’t press charges or beat me up when I started crying over the fact that I couldn’t pay for the trip. (yeah I do that sometimes :P)
I called a friend of mine back in Syracuse. He happened to be going to college in West Virginia, being one of those few people I met who actually *live* in Syracuse. A wonderful man, he set me up with a job, a place to stay with him back in WV, and he wired me some cash for food. Since my train ticket was round trip, I talked the Amtrak people into letting me go to WV instead of back to Boston, and I figured things would work themselves out. I checked my luggage at the station so I wouldn’t have to worry about it. The only problem left was the train didn’t leave for about 3 days. I had to find a place to stay.
So I figured I’d hang out in the train station, maybe hide out in the bathroom and sleep there at night. That didn’t pan out, since I didn’t count on the security being as efficient as they were, so I faced sleeping outside. Yep, it happened, I slept in a parking lot. For maybe a few hours at least. I couldn’t handle that for very long, and I just started walking around. I ran into these obvious heroin junkies who were very nice to me, and informed me of the homeless shelter just around the corner. So without any delay I made a beeline for there, and got to sleep inside in a cot. Yay!
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A New Life Begins
My baby brother got married this weekend! It was a fabulous event, and I’m so happy for him and his new wife. And lucky for me, I have a wonderful new person in my family.
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NY Memories
Category: Stories_, Thoughts_
I have lots of memories of my hometown. I find myself always wishing I could spend some time and write them all down so I don’t forget them. Do you ever remember a memory that you had forgotten about for years? Yeah, that happens sometimes. I’ve tried several avenues of ‘self-preservation’, so to speak, such as scrapbooks and journals and photo albums, but none of them have held a long-term attraction for me. But I seem to like this blog thing…so maybe that’s the ticket! So without further ado, here is the first installment of Morgan’s Memories.
Edition one: New York State of Mind
Yep I was born in the Empire State. The Big Apple. When I think of the time I spent living there, the first memory that always pops….well make that the first two….err…well, the first memories of my hometown are:
Eating mulberries off the bushes across the street from our apartment building. Boy were they good.
Learning to ride a bike at my friend’s house around the corner. See, they lived in these townhouse type things, with the garage on the first floor accessible from the back. So every townhouse contained two apartments, with two garage doors in the back. And between these townhouses were ramps that led to the back of the house. So, I would start at the top of one ramp, coast down (all on my friend’s bike, which I borrowed) make the turn to the left onto the road that was behind all of these houses, and then make the second turn up the next ramp, pedaling all the way. I found it’s a lot easier to balance on a bike when you’re moving fast, than if you have to get up to speed by pedaling…And then there was the time that I missed the second turn, and launched headfirst into one of the garage doors. Boy did I laugh…after the stars went away.
Going for a walk in the park across the street with my mom and my baby brother, and getting mugged by a bunch of first graders with broken beer bottles trying to steal my bike, and having the super’s wife chase ’em away with a broom handle.
Getting caught in a torrential downpour with my dad in the parking lot of our apartment, and having that be the absolute worst thing I’d ever experienced. (Might explain my vague discomfort with water…)
Wow. Once you get started, they just keep coming and coming…
One last one: I used to imagine that I had the power to know the future, and could predict what total strangers would do as I passed them by. This is a really vague one…I don’t remember it very well, so I must’ve been really young…but I would try to predict what someone would do while they were in my immediate vicinity. Such as predicting whether a car would park in that empty spot or continue down the road. Weird huh?
Ok for real, the last one. I was playing soccer with my dad in the park across the street (lots happened in that park….oh damn! more memories arising!!) and I had my very first (and last) asthma attack. At least that’s what I thought it was. Short of breath and all. I had to go to the emergency room, and they shot me up full of something and that fixed it right up.
One last thought… Italian ice lady! mmmmmm yummy!
Category: Thoughts