< thump thump thump > Is this thing on?

Whoever paid for this account reactivation, thanks! I hope it proves to be worth it.

I think I'm done here. My account is up for renewal and I find I'm unwilling to put up the money to continue my subscription. After the transformation into whatever this site is now I have lost pretty much all interest. For those of who I have continued to read this long after I stopped updating, thank you. I appreciate your tenacity, and your occasional comments.

It's been a good ride. So long, and thanks for all the fish.

This Thanksgiving I am spending without family, friends, or loved ones. A few minutes ago I made a reservation for dinner at Urban Farmer. It's been a long time since I've taken myself out for dinner I fear I may have forgotten how. But I guess you just have to get back in the ol' eating alone scene sometime, so it might as well be now. They say it's just like riding bike. You never really forget how to do it, but I'm so nervous. Will I like me? What if I have to leave early? Should I bring me a gift, or flowers or something? Is it too soon for that kind of thing? I just don't know the rules anymore.

Oh well. Happy Thanksgiving.

For some reason The Onion hates SG. I don't know why.
Since I can't embed it, let's see if a link will work
The True Meaning of Halloween

I posted this in Facebook:

I think if conservatives were REALLY against gay marriage they should prove it, and not just outlaw marriages between same sex couples but invalidate all marriages where one member is gay. Why haven't we seen that legislation?

After I posted it I realized that the biggest problem of being a liberal with a sense of humor is that the conservatives always come back and do the crazy shit we thought would be really funny because it seemed so absurd. It's as if that concept is lost on them, and that pushing the envelope of stupidity should be taken seriously with no concern for hypocrisy or consequence.

And I find that now, sadly, if this legislation does pop up somewhere I won't be surprised. Just sad.

In 2 weeks I will be seeing Skinny Puppy at the Crystal Ballroom. I have just learned that a mere 9 days later They Might Be Giants will be playing at the same place, and you can bet I'll be at that show too. November looks awesome so far.

I haven't updated this in a while not because I don't have anything to write about, but because I'm overwhelmed by how much there is to say. Every day since I've moved in I've done something, and all of those somethings have felt amazing. Tonight I took the streetcar down to Powell's and bought a book. When I came home I set up an area near the sliding glass door to the porch to sit and read. A small folding tray, a lamp and a reclining chair setup next to my view of tall trees and taller towers of steel and light. The last few hours have been spent reading and it's been nice.

Life has changed, and with the changes come fear and hope. I'm managing to not get swept away in my fear, or foolishly cling to my hopes. I'm moving slowly, and waiting to see what happens next. I've found a donut shop other than Voodoo that is more convenient to reach, and cheaper. Arguably better, but they don't do the wild and crazy donuts that make Voodoo what it is. But when I want a $.80 chocolate bar donut I can hop on the street car and be there in 5 minutes instead of trying to hike over to Voodoo and back.
On a similar note, when I want groceries I don't have to either walk for an hour or wait for someone to give me a ride. I walk downstairs and across the street and suddenly I have food again. The same with a Chipotle burrito, or some really good Chinese food. All within easy reach.

Of course this is a city, and it is full of all sorts of different people. It's the crazies that always stand out, and in the four days I've been riding the trains around I've seen a fair number of crazies. Old men who talk to themselves, young men who start fights with anyone who makes eye contact, middle aged women talking to anybody who will listen. Although now I'm living alone I have more contact with the outside world than I've had... maybe ever. At least since I lived in Hollywood, and that was 15 years ago.

It's funny that this is what I moved to Portland for. To live this dream. When I visited d23 back when he lived just up the street from here, this is what I wanted. This is where I wanted to be. It's taken me 4 years to get here but I did it.

I can't wait to see what happens next.

Hello from downtown Portland, bitches! I am all moved in, and now have internet and cable. All the work is done. The Girlfriend even unpacked and put away most of the boxes so this move is over. Today I'll be going back to the old apartment to turn in keys and sign any final paperwork.

My apartment is even more amazing than I thought it would be. I didn't have a chance to see it before I moved in, but I was told that because it was a corner apartment it would be larger than normal, and it had a great view. All of this was true. Everything I own fits very comfortably in here, with more than enough space left for moving around and/or breakdancing should the need arise. And the view is pretty fucking awesome. I have a view from one window facing the wooded hills of Western portland, and another view towards the gleaming towers of glass and steel of downtown. There's plenty of windows and good lighting, but still a nice shadowy place for my television to not be washed out by glare and be viewable any time. My bedroom is almost twice as big as my last place, and the kitchen has room for a goddam nook. This place is freaking awesome, and it's cheap. Not to mention the streetcar runs down the street right outside my building, and that goes just about everywhere.

Hi, I am one lucky motherfucker. How are you?

The emotional weight of moving never presses on me until I start packing. For weeks I've been making plans, calling movers, arranging utilities. None of that brings home the idea that you are leaving things behind, and going somewhere new like placing a book into a box. Waves of nostalgia and contemplation of an unknown future collide and swirl to create a numbing bittersweet cocktail.

So I stopped packing, and watched Adventureland. That didn't help. Nostalgia compounded by nostalgia has left me listless and morose. Where was I in 1987? I was 13. Now... I'm no longer 13. I don't feel as old as I am. I suppose few people ever do when they stop to remember where they were when they were 13.

And so, looking at the boxes that have to be moved... again, I find myself stunned at the story arc my life has followed. I still don't know how it ends, and I suppose that's why I'm still here. I can't leave until this story has an ending. One more satisfying than "He lived until he died." Which, by the way, is what I want on my tombstone if I have one.

And that's one of the many problems with me. I'm an incredibly morbid individual, and all examination of my past becomes a contemplation of the future. Every move to a new home, and there have been many, is a reawakening to the experience that everything is a temporary condition. It makes me realize why people buy a house and stay there and never leave. There is comfort in consistency. Having one place you go back to where you can hide your boxes of stuff and never unpack them. Never open them up unless you have to, and only on days when you want to feel time heavy in your mind. Never because you have to.

An hour ago I felt full of wisdom. Not so much at this moment.

When you're a kid the world shapes you. Choices are made for you, around you, and sometimes because of you. At some point you are dropped wherever you are and told "This is your life. Do something with it," and from there it's you shaping your world. Some people try to avoid making the decisions that will change their lives by changing as little as possible. Lifelong passengers on the road trip of life. Some plot their courses carefully, and direct the events of their experience to take them where their will and their dreams dictate.

I've done a little of both, and although I've been a passenger for the last couple of years I look in my wallet and see I have a driver's license again. Consistency is a comfort, but comfort isn't all it's cracked up to be. There are experiences better than the familiar, and although there are fears to be faced when leaving the known, I have always loved a little adventure. Even when it's only a very little.

A move is always a new beginning. Sometimes it's easier to look back and face familiar nostalgia than to brave an uncertain future. Eventually the future always finds you, though. Even if you try and hide under old boxes full of stuff from 30 years of moving. Might as well just stick them in a closet somewhere, forget about them, and go for a drive.

It's the kind of morning where I can think of a different post for all of the different blogs/portals I maintain on the internet. That, for those keeping score, is now 5 as I have stepped gingerly into the world of Facebook. Normally I write one thing (usually on Livejournal) then if I like it enough, or think someone who won't see it there should, I move it here. Then if it's really important (and most things aren't) it makes it on to Myspace. There are also blogs I have that I don't maintain anymore, and secret blogs full of secrets that I can't tell you about.

This one, though - this is just for you.