Situations I have found myself in vol. 1

Outside of the dream thread, I don't think I have any series that recur.  In the spirit of having something nonsensical to discuss, I give you 'Situations I have found myself in.'  

June 2007.

I had recently taken a job in Bartlesville, Oklahoma after having graduated from college and invited a slew of my former classmates down to visit the new digs.  This particular weekend coincided with the wedding of another former classmate.  

The gala event was to take place in the evening at the Brown Mansion in Coffeyville, Kansas.  The bride herself had only been to Coffeyville once before during one of my forced architectural tours and had apparently found herself smitten with the building.  

The wedding went off mostly as planned, with the exception being the ceremony itself was held indoors due to rain.  

Here is the point I mention that it had rained a lot recently.  A whole lot.  Buy gopher wood, and pair up your animals lot.  Maybe get yourself some of those arm floaties kids use in the pool.  I digress...

Shortly after the ceremony itself, the rain ceased and we headed out on the lawn, various forms of liquor in hand to celebrate.  There was music, dancing, pictures, and conversation of both the mediocre and extraordinary (for the state of sobriety anyway).

And then, the levies broke.

The party went from swinging to chaos in about 20 seconds.  Police arrived at the mansion to tell everyone to evacuate immediately.  We had no idea the severity, and concluded this must be an over-reaction.  I slowly gathered those that were to return to Oklahoma with me for the evening and headed to the car.  When we hit the western-most edge of Coffeyville we were met by the Kansas Highway patrol telling us that the roads would soon be closed.  I asked in which direction and was told, "all of them."  Better time has never been made to Oklahoma.  When we reached the state line we were met by more highway patrol.  Highway 75 was being shut down due to flooding.  I begged.  We were of the last row of vehicles let into Oklahoma that night.  The next morning we awoke to Coffeyville on CNN.  The town was underwater, worst flood in history, and the refinery had exuded crude into the water.  All on the east side of town was lost.

I had not spent much time in Coffeyville since my formative early college years, and now, half of it was gone.   

The one night I return, the place is inundated by an act of God.

I have found that where travels lead, trouble courts.

Last Man Standing

It is 2 a.m. on Sunday morning.  It's mother's day, and I am now the last person awake on earth (or that's my perception).  Whatever has corroded my lungs has seriously limited (further limited) my ability to sleep.  Add some new life stress and I'm about to work myself into zombie zone.  Brain awake, body inertia.

However, I have found (created) a new venue for listening to music that doesn't involve me spending more money.  I finally signed up for a last.fm profile and have spent all evening surfing the web to background tunes.  

Very nice, I'd recommend Duke Ellington for the 2 a.m. shift.

Movie Night

Star Trek=awesome


Kid coming home from Star Trek and vomiting on the floor=not awesome

Dream 2

Pecan Sandies

It's 2 o'clock in the morning. The only light comes from distant, intermittent street lamps. It has rained all night and the darkness makes the street look like wet ink. We walk up the street, a residential area, in search of a convenience store in which to buy donuts. He and I. The conversation is light, usually reguarding the rediculous intent that has us out at this hour. We find a convenience store, a beacon of light in the dark and go in. I find it odd that the shelving in this location is taller than me, but set about finding the donuts. My task is hampered because nothing is in marked packaging. Every item on every shelf is in a plain, white paper bag, each requiring inspection to determine the contents. We wander up and down shelves, peering into bag after bag until he declares, "pecan sandies!"
He keeps saying it over, and over as he removes the bag from the shelf.
"Pecan sandies, pecan sandies."
He pronounces pecan in that non- regional way, excentuating the long e.
"Peeeecan sandies."
Dragging out the first sylable for effect.
He pays, shoves a whole cookie in his mouth, smiles to reveal the partially chewed contents, and we walk out of the store and back into the night.

Where the old wives spin their tales

Shaun keeps threatening to send me to the doctor if I don't get over my cold. I guess two weeks of non-stop hacking is starting to grate on his nerves. I hate doctors so, I'm going to experiment with old wives tales. First up, whiskey and lemon juice. At least if it doesn't work I'll sleep well.

Dream 1

The Yellow House

In my childhood I often played here. It was a two-story farmhouse with yellow clapboard and a wide wrap-around porch. The interior of the house was warm, sun filtered in through gauzy curtains with the breeze. The wooden floors made a pleasing sound as bare feet ran over them. This was a happy place.
Up the stairs was a large bedroom. It had huge windows on either side of a dark stained four-poster bed. There were pictures on the side tables but I recognized no one in them. The sound of a babbling baby drew me out of the bedroom and up the hallway. In a small room on the left was a wooden crib. I wasn't tall enough to see into the bed but, I could see the baby kicking his legs as he cooed. The plaster walls in the room were painted white, and the sunshine rendered the room an ethereal glow.

I am older now. I return to this place of happiness to find it abandoned. The grass grows over the porch and the yellow paint peels away from the warped siding. There is no sun today. I enter the house to find it abandoned. It is dark and cold. The floor creaks beaneath every step. The curtains hang limply in front of the windows. I reach to pull them back, hoping for more light and they disintigrate in my hands. Dust has settled on every surface. I climb the stairs and find the bedroom empty. Where the bed sat is a vacant gap between two cracked windows barely obscured by shredded curtains.
I walk up the hallway, dread creeping up my throat. In the small room on the left paint hangs in patches on the cracked plaster. A capped steel pipe projects from the wall at an unnatural angle. On one end of the room a familiar shape is shrouded beneath a dust-covered white sheet. I pull it away to reveal the crib, devoid of even a mattress. In my heart I know the baby didn't live.
The difference is vast between light and dark. The difference between dreams and nightmares.

How does your garden grow?

After a week of almost non-stop rain, today the sun shone.  I went out to look at my much neglected garden to find it had suffered the effects of far too much water, and far too little sunshine.  The plants are all a little yellow.  Hopefully after today, they will get an opportunity to green back up.

Since I've been locked inside, I decided to work on some new houseplants.  After digging out a very old collection of teacups, I planted succulents inside.  Quite a nice re-purpose.  

The Social (Networking) Experiment

It has come to light that I have "quit" Facebook (to use Shaun's terminology). This is simply not true. I am taking a much needed break from the addiction that is social networking.
During a conversation (most likely held while inebriated) some years ago, a friend commented that were he to ever feel something as strong as a need for anything (be it liquor, sex, drugs, or what have you) he would immediately give it up. Granted, this entire conversation occurred under a plume of cigarette smoke, but for some reason, the suggestion stuck with me.
I don't claim to have been driven to social networking every night by a need however, I found I was spending far too much of my time enveloped in it. I was (have been) using Facebook as a crutch to keep myself overly connected to a world I was (am) no longer a part of. I have found this has handicapped my ability to aclimate to the real community in which I am now a part of (herein referred to as Hooterville).
So, while I haven't eliminated e-networking from my social reportoire, I have pulled back to give myself space to live in the real world.

Cinco de Mayo para los gringos

1 medium lemon-berry slush from Sonic
Liberal amounts of Rum

Combine. Enjoy.