A Little Slice Of Alright...

It's midnight am I'm just getting home. Everyone is in bed sound asleep. It's a drag coming home with out being able to talk to Mr. Man or give Precious a kiss and hug, then talk about our day.

But for the first time in way to long, I'm coming home in a good mood. I'm happy and feeling good about life for the first time in a long while.

I started a new job last week. A second new job. I've gone back to cooking. I still have the first new job which I despise. Every day I'm there, a little more of me dies. It's a marketing company. Phone sales. Just thinking about it makes me cringe.

When I left the "dream job" I didn't really have the option of waiting for another dream. I needed an income so I took the marketing gig. It was a check with benefits.

Last week I was offered a job I applied for a month ago. Cooking. It's a nice place with a decent menu and a good crew. It pays better than most kitchens and best of all, I like it.

Last week they had me coming in at 9am banging out prep for the line guys at night. I did a good enough job that they wanted me on the line. Tonight was my first night shift. I like nights and it pays more.

The marketing job started at 6am. I am not a morning person. The night shift at the restaurant starts at 3pm. Much better. I get to spend my mornings with Mr. Man, take him to school, spend a couple hours doing what ever, then go to work. I've been trying to do them both but I don't see that happening for much longer.

I had a good time time tonight. It's a little hectic learning all of the plates and presentations but it was fun and I only screwed up a couple of things. I managed to sear the tips of three fingers, laid my thumb on the grill and burned the back of my hand. I love to cook.

Tomorrow I work the grill, mostly solo. Saturday I'm doing a special catering gig for our chef, off site with a couple of the servers. Should be a hoot.

On top of all of this our housing limbo has come to an end. Sort of. We have until the 18th of January to find a new place to live and move. Oh goody! Like we didn't have enough to worry about.

Why does all the shit hit the fan at the same time? I guess that way there is only one mess to clean up instead of spreading it out over time. Or I at least I hope.

I started packing up the studio today as well as a few things I haven't used in awhile. Time for a big yard sale.

We put up our Christmas tree a couple of days ago. It seemed strange knowing we would just have to take it down in a few weeks. The holidays always manage to bring havoc to my life.

I don't care this year. I'm taking it all with a smile. Tomorrow Mr. Man and I are house hunting in the morning. I'm listening to Christmas songs on the jazz station in my car. I'm thinking of friends I haven't seen for ages but am planning to.

I'm sure the future will have a few more nut shots in store for me, but I think I'm ready. I'm wearing a cup, have plenty of burn cream and carrying big sharp knives.

For tonight, for the first time in some time, it's all good.

******

Oh yea! Last weekend Mr. Man had his first Karate tournament and did AWESOME!

Are You F*ing Kidding...

We found out today that the house we have been renting, has been sold. They were supposed to tell us two months ago, their bad. And yes, they said that.

We haven't even been here a year yet. Like this whole idea just sprung up on them.

They were kind enough to give us until the end of July to move out.

Mighty friggin decent of them.

Adieu...

This week I was witness to what may have been the nicest day and night of the last 30 months. Warm with a soft cooling breeze. No clouds or crowds. Breath taking sunset. More stars than I knew existed. The glow of the Milky Way spilled across the sky. Fabu!

Even with all of the bitching and complaining I've done, I'm going to miss this place. It's beautiful and there are some truly wonderful people here. Definitely a memorable adventure.

Looking back, I will remember all of it, and them, most fondly.

2008 Summer In Hell...

...is finally drawing to an end.

That's right. I'm sitting in an airport right now. Since 6:45 am.

With this trip I will have logged almost 10,000 miles, between driving and flying, just in the last four months. If only some of it had been for fun. Looking over what's gone on so far, I can say that none of it has been fun at all. Ok maybe a day or two was a good time, but I digress.

With this trip, our gallery will close it's doors for good. As much as I hated the way things went and turned out, I'm still going to miss it. I loved our gallery.

I have little doubt that some day we, or I, will open another one. It just wont be the same. I'm hoping better.

This week will be very hectic. An other loading of trucks, driving across country, stopping in four different cities to unload things here and there, then finally home. For good this time.

It was so hard to leave this morning. Precious and Mr. Man still in bed as I left the house at "O Dark Hundred". That's friggin early to those of you that don't know militant time.

As I kissed them each on the head and told them they are loved, they each gave a, not quite awake moan of acknowledgment. Mr. Man woke just enough to ask me not to go, then cried a bit and asked for his blanky. It made me wish I had a blanky. The comfort would be nice right now.

I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. It's so close. Or maybe that's an oncoming train about to crush me. With my luck, I won't place bets.

Focus, I need to focus.

Sweet Home California...

It always amazes me how fast two weeks can go. The days slip away. How easy it is to just disappear. I'd forgotten. I made good time from north to south. Not my best but still under 24 hours. It seemed to be prettier this time. The roads were better. Traffic lighter. Lights greener.


Except for here of course. The worst stretch of road I have ever been on, any where. 7 MPH. 24/7/365.

Most of the drive looked like this.



I arrived home at about 9pm. Precious was at work. Mr. Man home with a friend of ours. The look on Mr. Man's face when I walked through his door, was all pleasure. I had gone almost two months with out seeing him. Way too long. By about two and half months.

The look on Precious' face was more of relief. Being a single parent is very difficult. I'm sure I would not have done so well.

For the first few days I was lost in them. How could I have stayed away for so long? Never again.

I timed it for her days off. We had the first two days all together. It's already a blur in my mind.
Maybe it's just my mind that's blurry.

Thoughts of the world or the hell in Oregon that is my current reality, were pushed far away. Out of sight out of mind. Sadly, I know from experience, that hiding only compounds the problems.

I still have a business to deal with. Bills to pay. Tempers to sooth. I've said it before and I'm going to say it again until you...um...I, remember. Never do business with family or friends. It will not end well.

This, for the most part is what I was hiding from. Maybe if I ignore it, it will go away. A nice thought, but never going to work. It's come down to damage control. I'm not going to make it out cleanly. Where do I draw the line? The art world is always the same BS. No matter where you put it or who's involved. After all this time, I still don't get it. Do I really want to continue to do this?

Everyday that I've been home, Mr. Man has told me that he is happy that I'm home. That he missed me. That he never wants me to leave him again. He barely lets me out of his sight. I've managed to traumatize the poor child and he's only four.

I do have to go back to Oregon for about a week. Several times he and I have talked about me going back. Not for as long as the first time, but I still have to. He says he understands, and in the same breath will say he never wants to be with out me.

At one point I actually thought of bringing him back with me, but it wouldn't be a good time for any one. I have too much work to get done and a very short amount of time to do it.

When I close my eyes, things can be so simple. They should be. They can be. They seldom are.

Near An End...

Be it journey or wits', I'm not entirely sure.

Nothing ever seems to go as planned. At least the way I plan them. Hey, maybe it's me. I guess I need to work on my plans.

Things are a mess. None of us are happy. Now our dog is sick and in the Hospital. It didn't sound good. I need to be there for them.

For the past two days I have been running around like a mad man trying to get everything done. At least everything that needs to be done this month. We may or may not be closing the Oregon Gallery at the end of August now. It's up in the air. Never have partners.

I, however will be headed for SD in the next day or two. Precious and Mr. Man need me much more than this silly gallery. I have found someone that I can leave for a few weeks at a time, so I'm going to. Leave him that is.

Precious hasn't been able to read my site since she moved south, so I get to write about it and still surprise her. When she comes home from work on Sunday night, I should be there waiting for her. It's bee too long. I haven't seen Mr. Man in almost two months.

There will have to be several more trips back to Oregon to handle details and get some more things done, but I would rather be coming back to Oregon to do things than the other way around. So I'm out-a-here.

At least, that's my plan. Cali or Bust.

Holding On...

It's been a very emotional week. I'm holding up fairly well considering.

Tuesday morning we started driving south. For the most part it was an uneventful trip. I-5 through California is a mess. That highway is in serious need of repair. Going through the central valley we hit a dust storm. I have never seen it like that before. We drove through it for almost three hours. At times our visibility was less than a few hundred feet. Terrible.

We made good time getting to San Diego. Ended up having an extra day to spend with Precious and Mr. Man. What should have been Friday and most of Saturday. Friday morning I woke up with the worst migraine I have ever had. I spent most of Friday in bed wanting to die. I took two Imitrex, a handful of aspirin, caffeine, food, nothing worked. I decided to fight through it, sick to my stomach, dizzy and unable to move at any kind of speed. I wore earplugs to block out the sound, and glasses to shade my eyes. The pain let up around 11pm. About the time everyone wanted to go to bed. I stayed up talking with a friend. We sat outside while we talked about human nature. Swapped stories, drank cocktails and played with a fire.

At around 2am I went up stairs and climbed into bed with Mr. Man. I just wanted to hold him. He jumped and swung his arms when I touched his face with my cold hands. I breathed in deeply to smell him. It would be the last time I got to cuddle for awhile. I wanted it to last for ever. A couple of hours later I did the same thing with Precious. We lay in bed holding one an other for hours, not saying much. Avoiding what we both wanted to say. Knowing that we just needed to enjoy the moment. It would be over all too soon.

Saturday morning I spent playing with Mr. Man. We chased around the yard, threw food to the fish in the pond. We hugged and kissed and played. I was trying hard not to make too much of my leaving.

There were a couple of moments that almost killed me. At one point he stopped running, hugged me and said he would miss me. I fought back tears, but we went back to running. The hardest moment was when he started crying. He said he was crying because he didn't want to cry when I left. I really struggled not to break down at that point. Just thinking about it now brings tears to my eyes. (People in the airport are beginning to stare at me)

Precious just dropped me off at the airport. My flight leaves in a couple of hours. For days I have been telling myself that this is temporary. I will see them soon. It's the little voice in the back of my head that is making things hard. I know all too well that life is unpredictable. I know that it may be the last time I see them. Strange things happen. Things we never see coming. I fight back that voice with all my will, but every now and then, I can hear it.

I focus on the things I need to do when I return. Finish orders at the gallery. Clean our house. Patch holes and paint. Move the rest of my things to the gallery. I have a lot to do. Much to keep me busy and my mind occupied. Time moves quickly. The summer will be over before I know it. Besides. I already have a flight booked for three weeks from now.

If I can just keep from curling into a fetal position and sobbing my eyes out here in the airport, I just might make it. A few more vodka red bulls and things will look differently.

Time...

Tonight is the last night we will spend in this house as a family. Precious and Mr. Man have been asleep for hours now. I have been walking around organizing boxes and things, occasionally stopping to stare out the window. The lights of the coast are softly glowing through a layer of fog. Just thick enough to block the light of the near full moon. I will miss this place. I have loved this house. There will be a week left on our lease when I return in six days, but will most likely not spend another night here.

I'm having the "what might of beens and what might bees". Thinking about what we had planned when we moved here. What we hoped we would accomplish, and what we needed to accomplish. What we want out of our move back to California. The best laid plans.

Having moved as often as I have, one would think it should be easy. I get sentimental about places I've lived. I remember them all. As I sit here saying good bye to this place I think about the next one. While I'm here, Precious will find our next home. She and Mr. Man will live there for months before I move in. I find moving an exciting time, but it also makes me sad. An end to a chapter, the start of another.

In the morning we will finish loading, cleaning and getting our selves ready. We will drive to Portland to drop off my car at the airport. My ride home when I return. Spend the night drinking champagne in a motel room. Tuesday morning we will leave for San Diego.

Mr. Man is fascinated with the truck. He wants to spend every minute in it, on it or under it. Helping, of course. With each pause or break to rest between loads we were politely asked to return to work so he could return to the truck. Such a slave driver.


On a side note. Here are the two still lifes I mentioned last week. 10 x 10 inches each, oil on canvas. Finally finished and dry. They will be going to the EVO cooking school in Cannon Beach as soon as I return.

Ready Or Not...

The house is packed. Pretty much. A few odds and ends left. The yard sale cleared out a huge chunk of our past. Thank goodness. You dig through boxes and find things that you haven't seen for months or years and wonder why on earth you have kept this trinket and drug it all over the planet, and at the same time you have a pang of, guilt, for lack of a better word, when you put in the 'for sale' pile. What the hell is that about? If it meant anything to me I would have had it out, or at least remembered where it came from or why I still have it. Guilt be damned, be gone knick knack.

Cleansing is a good thing. So is the stack of cash and knowledge that those unremembered knick knacks will be collecting dust on someone's shelves that are not ours.

My mind is everywhere, and no where. I have moved everything that I will need for the summer. I painted for the first time since mid March. Two still lifes for a local cooking school.
An apple and a pear. Single pieces of fruit, solitary and alone. Coincidence or self abuse? Neither, I want the cash. The months will only drag if I let them. A plane can have me by their sides in less than four hours, and it will, about every three weeks. Southwest frequent flyer program (and hours with Dr. Bob) here I come.