Broadway Bridge

If you guessed Portland, You guessed right...

Sunny's Market, Alberta and Interstate

Nuff' said.

Eavesdropping

Overheard at a coffee shop on Lombard and Interstate:

"If I have any more coffee, I'm gonna start my period."

For Carly:

(-My friend Carly really doesn't like cats. This is for her-)

I was on foot…
She was in a Subaru…
It was a 4-way, neighborhood intersection…
quiet, never busy, I will go out on a limb and estimate that it saw roughly 10 cars an hour—peak hours, mind you.

She didn’t have a stop sign and I wasn’t in a hurry…
I waved her to go.
She waved me to go.
I waved her…
She waved me.
This went on for at least three whole cycles.
Portland drivers are funny like that.
On the rare occasion when I am behind a wheel…
I am not a Portland driver.

I stood defiant and playful, crossing my arms to signal that I wasn’t going anywhere…
At least not until her fly-eye green Subaru passed me by.

This was all playful, mind you.

The glare on her windshield obscured her appearance,
other than the fact that she had pigtails and thick-rimmed old lady glasses.
This signified cute to me, but that is an unnecessary aside.

Game up, she was in more of a hurry than I was, or less patient.
She accelerated through the intersection a little too fast,
As she was parallel with me, I saw that she was cute-ish, but not as much as the pig-tails and glasses let on.
She looked at me and smiled as she passed and then promptly ran over a cat.
I didn’t see what type it was.
I will go out on a limb and estimate that it died on impact.

I stepped off of the curb as her brakes screeched,
walked on by,
and went to get that coffee that I really, really needed.

I am back, dammit!

Well, here I am, fresh back from Kenya and Uganda. I haven't shaved or cut my hair in about 2 months and more than one person has informed me that I look like a hobo.
Whatever, it's cold as hell here. I am working the winter coat thing. You should see my ass and my toe knuckles. I am serious, in this town you need as much hair as you can get for the 9 months that the temperature refuses to crack 64.
A homeless lady offered me some of her free, closing-time pizza the other night. And the guys at the diner on Mississippi gave me a lot of extra food on my plate the other morning during a wicked hangover breakfast of biscuits and gravy (two full biscuits), one egg (I ordered one, they gave me three), and a giant disk of pan-fried hash browns.
If only I could use this new power on bartenders.
So I return, I am back and through effing around.
Well, I suppose it is more accurate to say that I am ready to start effing around again. If I was truly through effing about then this Blog shit would not be happening.
That said, for better or for worse, here I am.