AmelieStrange (ameliestrange) wrote,


And so I flew on a bird more than a week ago, over the places I used to live, and over places I want to live, and into the land of the lush where Multnomah Falls has frozen into the cascades. Far too cold for this place and time of year, I put my gloves on and looked through windows into lives I only sometimes know: Boys with glasses in the cold weather, in hipster bars and hipster houses with good people and a wonderful crazy girl and a dog named Juniper. Everything new and introduced in places strange and lovely. And the rain begins to fall down the Redwood Highway, finding me on the coast in a house that smells like some exotic strain of marijuana, or across town watching three boys bent over turntables playing loud music, gluing together pictures with tiny children, a boy and a girl. And thinking, however romantic it is to think, it is the god's honest truth that everything that I have done and has happened to me since November of 2004 is because of this person, and for this I am so fortunate. Bass blasting through the walls and a boy smoking an electric cigarettes. Always the talk of which hybrid this is, which strain, how it was watered and how much you can get paid to trim it. And down and down and down.
Through towns that could only have California names, over bridges from which you can see other bridges and an islands named Treasure and Alcatraz. Silicon Valley. Ben Mellen's house and an observatory high in the clouds. You're just as much of a smartass as you've always been, and thank you. Just to the north, the Necropolis of Colma sprawls over rolling hills of high granite monuments and angels, and it could easily take weeks to see it all. I ate Thai noodles with a man who has a tregus piercing somewhere in San Francisco, and the next morning drove back to San Jose to get my things. Before dawn, driving through neighborhoods of impossibly expensive homes on impossibly steep streets, watching the streetlamps go out and the fog roll off and I think, "Maybe I do like San Francisco a little bit." Onward and upward.
I came home to Eugene in the dark, almost forgetting where I was - thinking maybe I'm driving to Dove Creek or Rico. But no, Franklin, and Glenwood, and Chambers, Garfield and Lawrence. Friendly and the Lorraine Highway to the home of a family anyone in this world would be lucky to know.
I came to Eugene to take a test to qualify as a 911 Dispatcher for the City. I took it yesterday and, while I can apparently type 5100 keystrokes per minute, they wanted 5200. So thanks for coming, maybe next time. And thus, I will not be moving back to Eugene. But for this I am probably also fortunate; it probably wouldn't be too original or novel to move to the same place three times. A girl's got to have better ideas than that, and so it has been a lovely visit. I participated in the most lovely family Christmas celebration with Sean and his family, and I'm taking home a wooden goose with a Santa hat on as a souveneir. Nothing much has changed here, except some faces at some places I once worked at, but no, not much else. And of course not the rain. I kissed a few memories and paid homage to where I have come from.
For the first time, now, I am looking at having absolutely no plans, no ideas, no obligations and very few limits. I was waiting for something good to shock me into action, let's hope I get some good ideas.
Oh dear, the world is my oyster and I haven't the slightest idea of what to do with it.
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