five-alarm.... spaghetti?

i almost burnt the house down this afternoon.

all i was trying to do was make some supper. i chopped up some onions and a christmas-colored array of peppers, and was preparing to sauté them for inclusion in a spaghetti sauce, when all hell broke loose...

please correct me if i made any egregious errors, committed some safety faux pas, or violated a cooking taboo in the following steps:

1. place pan on stovetop
2. cover bottom of pan in oil
3. turn burner on
4. let pan heat up for two minutes prior to adding onions and peppers

did i do something wrong? i don't think so. but when i came back into the kitchen after only a couple minutes away (i was on a bathroom break, ok? i'm sure even emeril takes one every now and then), there was smoke billowing out of the pot

big, black clouds of smoke


(even i know that's not good)

so i went over to the stove, started to reach over the pot to turn off the burner, when all of a sudden GIANT FLAMES leaped up at me. yikes. so i did what any rational person would have done in that situation...


i jumped about five feet in the air and screamed like a girl


then i grabbed some potholders, latched onto the flaming pot of death, and was getting ready to make a dash for the door, when one of the potholders caught on fire and immediately started to singe my thumb. so i went to plan C (plan B is always "hide," but i decided that it didn't really fit in this particular scenario), and threw the pot into the sink and turned the water on full blast

i knew in the back of my head that water isn't supposed to be used to put out a grease fire, but i wasn't thinking with my head. i was thinking with my thumb; a thumb which was being severely singed. so on went the water, which of course caused burning lava hot fiery oil to spatter everywhere, but mostly on the already afflicted thumb. not only that, but even bigger clouds of billowing black smoke started to fill the room, and all the fire alarms in the apartment simultaneously started to sound

at this point i started to get a little nervous... because, after all, if water won't put a fire out, what on earth will? fortunately the flames died down within a few more seconds, then went out altogether, and i was left with

• one crispy potholder
• second-degree burns on my thumb
• three shrieking fire alarms
  
• four rooms completely filled with acrid smoke

eventually the smoke went away (not on its own; it required much vigorous coercing to leave the premises), the alarms stopped their assault on my inner ear, and i resumed my attempt to cook supper. the slight delay only served to deepen my hunger, and thus i enjoyed my meal all the more so, knowing that i braved fire, smoke, and boiling lava hot burning oil to make myself a meal


there's probably a lesson in there somewhere... i like to ask myself after a difficult scenario "what can i learn from this?" in this case, i'm not sure what the lesson should be; i honestly don't think i did anything wrong. i guess i can chalk it up to a freak occurrence of nature; either that or gremlins, but definitely one of the two

maybe the lesson is to prepare myself for the unexpected; as much as i like to think that i'm ready for anything life should throw at me, i think i'm starting to realize that's not necessarily the case. i should hope for the best, but prepare for the worst. the easier times in life should be enjoyed, but also utilized as a means of preparing for darker days ahead, both physically and spiritually. we would label a man who didn't save any money aside for later in life when he may not be able to work as "foolish," but what do we call the christian who isn't taking advantage of the time given them to prepare for battles that may lay right over the horizon?

hmm


maybe that's a bit of a stretch, but there it is. that's what i learned today... that, and beware of pots containing hot oil




(gosh, anybody in the middle ages could have told me that)

calling all canines

memo to all dogs in the greater portland area:


i come in peace.

if you don't try to eat me, i will give you dog biscuits

if you try to eat me, i will punch you in the face and then spray mace in your eyeballs

i am not a burglar. i am not a kidnapper. i am not an evil vacuum cleaner salesman. i am not a walking steak. i am a meter reader, who only needs about fifteen seconds in your yard. then i will go, and leave you alone

please don't sneak up behind me and then bark really loud. it makes me jump very high and very far


we can be friends. but friends don't bite each other.


down boy. good boy.

food

i'm currently reading South by Ernest Shackleton, his memoirs from the failed voyage of the (poorly named) Endurance in an attempt to land on and then traverse across antartica. fascinating stuff. i've read some excerpts from his memoirs before, but never the entire thing. shackleton was quite the chap, well worthy of the knighthood he eventually received (and i'm only halfway through the book). he had a keen sense of how very important food was to maintaining the morale of the men once adversity had overtaken them and they were stranded on an ice floe, as well as understanding how far a man will go to feed his appetite. he writes the following:

when one is hungry, fastidiousness goes to the winds and one is only too glad to eat up any scraps, regardless of their antecedents. one is almost ashamed to write of all the little tidbits one has picked up here, but it is enough to say that when the cook upset some pemmican on to an old sooty cloth and threw it outside his galley, one man subsequently made a point of acquiring it and scraping off the palatable but dirty compound. another man searched for over an hour in the snow where he had dropped a piece of cheese some days before, in the hopes of finding a few crumbs. he was rewarded by coming across a piece as big as his thumb-nail, and considered it well worth the trouble. (p. 112)


now that's my kind of crew! see, my eating habits aren't that unusual after all... they're just out of place and in the wrong century. it takes hard work and a lack of sustenance to make you really appreciate food. for instance, today i forgot to bring my lunch with me. i had already made up some tuna fish last night, so it would be easy as pie to make a sandwich before i left this morning, but in my early-morning state of befuddlement i walked out the door sans sandwich. i did have a few granola bars, which were able to stave off the giant until i arrived home, but once i got back to the apartment i devoured what might possibly have been the most delectable, delicious, and scrumptious tuna fish sandwich ever made by human hands


sometimes, it's good to go without, if only to remind us of just how good we really have it


that's why fasting is such a brilliant idea. not only does it remind us of just how delicious food is, and how necessary it is to survival, but in the right context fasting also can remind us that it isn't all about the here and the now. we should hunger and thirst after righteousness far more than we do after physical food


i know that's not the case with me. i'll admit it, i'm ruled by my stomach. one of the first phrases i learned in latvia this summer was "ya hachu yest," which roughly means "i want to eat." i didn't learn "jesus loves you," or "His grace is greater than your sins"... nope. i want to eat.



what do i want more, food or God? i know what the right answer should be... i'm just not sure it's the real one



(yet)

a soporific sunday

i have to admit... today marks a low point in my brief "life without a car"

there's a picture-perfect, 4-foot-with-a-16-second-interval swell hitting the coast, and i have no way to get down there with my trusty board, the white pearl:

rain, sleet, and snow couldn't stop me last year; but now a simple lack of transportation is enough to keep me from the beach. i spent the last five minutes watching beautiful, glassy, perfectly formed chest-high waves rolling on the higgins beach webcam, then realized i was drooling on my keyboard

(not a good idea)

but it's ok. i can wait a little longer for the stars to align so i can get back down to the beach. it's just killing me to be so close, but so far

other than that, life is good. there was an amazing prayer in the bulletin at church this morning which i wrote down in my notebook. i'm forever making notes in the bulletin, then forgetting all about them and tossing the whole bundle into the trash. but this was good enough to warrant copying down to ensure it's preservation in my personal records. here it is:

Lord, I do not know what to ask of you.
Only you know what I need.
You love me better than I know how to love myself.
Father, give to your child that which he himself knows not how to ask.

Strike or heal, depress me or raise me up:
I adore all your purposes without knowing them.

I am silent;

I offer myself up in sacrifice;
I yield myself to you;
I would have no other desire than to accomplish your will.

Teach me to pray.
Pray in me.

Amen

(Francois Fenelon, 1651-1715)


that's a tough prayer. not sure i'll ever be able to say it and completely mean it, but that's where i want to be


i moved the last of my stuff out of my parents garage where i'd been storing a few random things (bike, surfboard, sled, hatchet, spider-man towel), and did some grocery shopping this afternoon. normally i try and avoid most commercial activities on a sunday, but this was one of those times when i needed more food than i could carry, and had access to a vehicle (thanks to my mom). so i loaded up with groceries, hopefully enough to last me for a couple weeks, dropped my stuff off, and then returned the van and biked back home. now i'm getting ready to spend the rest of the evening chillaxing, cooking some supper and doing some reading before i head to bed


(i didn't get a nap today... hence the title of the post)


i just realized, this could quite possibly have been the most boring-est post ever. i'll end the agony by ceasing to type and starting to stir-fry

that's "mister meter reader" to you

today i started my new job


it rocked my face off


in case you didn't know, i am now an employee of the portland water district as a water-meter-reader (i love the way that rolls off the tongue: watermeterreader. it should be all one word, it flows so well). so far, here's my list of what rocks and what doesn't about the job:

What Rocks:

• i get to drive, walk, and generally traverse the greater portland area all day, every day
• hours: 6:30-2:30. plenty of time to run errands, nap, surf, or just do whatever in the afternoons
• they supply uniforms. oh sweet heavens. check out the sweet t-shirts they gave me to get started:
  
• not only am i supplied with rain gear, uniforms, sweet orange vests, and a happening ID badge, but i also receive a $90 boot allowance per calender year. um, hello, is this heaven?
• outdoors, all day, every day
• near complete autonomy; i leave in the morning, gas up my truck, and don't come back until the end of the shift. they trust you to stay busy and be productive in the meantime without any cumbersome oversight or meddling
• i'm part of an elite crowd of service professionals: just like the mail men, utility workers and the like, i get friendly waves and pleasant greetings all day long

What Doesn't:

• being outdoors every day, all day means you encounter the worst that the weather gods have to offer. fortunately, i've already seen the worst, and i know i can handle it
• some dogs have a hard time distinguishing between "menacing predator" and "friendly meter reader." hence the cane of mace we get issued. it does say on the can that it's "effectiveness against trained attack dogs has not been proven." let's hope i don't encounter any of those
• tired, worn out jokes, such as "hey, don't bother reading my meter, i didn't use any water this month." hahahashutup.
  
• once again, i'm working a job that has absolutely nothing to do with my major. is this the sort of job a 25-year-old with a college degree should be working? absolutely not. but am i excited about it anyways? you bet. that may or may not be a good thing

so there you have it. i'm sure more details will follow in the weeks to come as i learn more about the job. as for now, i have a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in my hands that is in desperate needs of being eaten. seeya

greyhound is for the dogs

for some unknown reason (actually, it is known: money) i decided to take the bus back from ohio after spending some time out there going to weddings, visiting friends and riding roller coasters. so, i just got back from a marathon bus ride of nearly 20 hours. needless to say, i'm more than a little tired. but before i get too much further, i figured i'd transcribe a running diary i kept during the past day:

8:46 PM- just got my tickets at the Greyhound bus terminal in Cleveland, which in itself was a fairly arduous task. there was only one lady at the ticket counter, and she seemed to have an amazing propensity for taking extended breaks whenever a queue started to form. that behind me, i've taken the liberty to do some exploring. the terminal looks very clean, modern, and well-kept, but in reality it's pretty junky. the urinals don't flush, not a single one of the bathroom sinks work, and the water from the water fountains quite literally tastes like feces (not that i would know... it's just an educated guess). other than that, it's a great place. dave was generous enough to drive me over here, so counting the ferry ride from kelley's island and the drive over here i've already been mobile since 6:30. i've already met two interesting people: one guy who asked if i had any rolling papers for "cigarettes" while i was getting my stuff out of the van, and a lady who is traveling out to arizona to visit her trucker boyfriend who is recovering from being shot. needless to say, i feel slightly out of place at the moment

9:01 pm- supposedly you're not supposed to carry anything on a bus that you couldn't on an airplane. yeah, right. i'll be impressed if they find my pocket knife buried in my backpack without the aid of metal detectors. in other news... there's eight main doors in the terminal, each leading to a bus bound for different locations (at least, i assume they lead to a bus; what if it was a magic portal that immediately relocated you at your desired destination? i'd pay good money for that kind of service). most of the doors have a long lineup of bags in front of them, but the doors leading to pittsburgh and detroit are, surprisingly enough, completely devoid of any luggage. draw your own conclusions

9:18 pm- there's a guy here who looks exactly like joe montana. i'm pretty sure he's not, though. partly because i'm not sure why joe montana would be at a bus station in cleveland, but mostly because this "faux joe" is wearing a t-shirt that has the phrase "redneck entertainment system" emblazoned over a picture of a giant keg. but who knows. on the other extreme, a preppy looking kid carrying a large abercrombie and fitch shopping bag just got off of a bus and is waiting in line for another. i'm not sure he'll survive the night

9:36 pm-just for the record: i'm officially regretting not having paid the extra sixty bucks or so that it would have cost to fly home

9:51 pm- it just occurred to me that ever since 9/11, airports terminals have lost their top spot in the "best last chance to say goodbye locations" list. it's just not the same bidding someone farewell from the parking lot, or in front of a cantankerous security guard. train and bus stations might be the only forms of public transportation that allow you to say goodbye and then actually watch someone leave

10:06 pm- he's not joe montana. he's a heavy machine operator from pennsylvania on assignment in ohio, doing construction work at new ethanol plants. i just had to ask

10:17 pm- since this bus is ultimately bound for boston, i've decided to kick off my playlist for the evening with all the songs i have that mention boston. so far, all i've been able to come up with are "boston," by augustana; "shipping off to boston," by the dropkick murphys; and "the pirate who don't do anything," as performed by relient k. my bus drivers name is lenny. he just informed us that everyone needs to get off the bus in buffalo, at the ungodly hour of 2am. why, i don't know. all i know is that right now, i need some sleep. i had the foresight to acquire a window seat on the drivers side of the bus; my thought is that since we're headed east, that would place me on the north side of the bus for the majority of the bus, thus shielding me from the sun for the greatest possible time. brilliant, eh?

2:06 am- i think i slept some, but i'm not sure. all i know right now is that i just brushed my teeth, so i feel slightly more human. i've been told we're in buffalo. it could be a lie. the bathroom here is worse than the one in cleveland, which is saying something. i feel like i have a hangover. i should find the bus again and get back on it. ugh. ugh times a million.

4:18 am- there is water dripping on me from somewhere. i know i didn't dream it, because it woke me up, and then i felt it again. where would water be coming from? it's not raining out. is someone spitting at me? maybe it's a snake; they spit, don't they? so do camels, and llamas. maybe it's a llamel snake. i should try to get back to sleep, drip or no drip

5:50 am- rest stop in syracuse; i think this means a third of the trip (time-wise) has been completed. that's one part encouraging, and two parts horrid. i finally pinpointed the drip, once it got light enough out; it must be from condensation from the air conditioner. fortunately, i had my emergency roll of duct tape handy, so i covered up the leaky spot which seems to have solved the problem for now... however, the lady in front of me just started to complain that she was getting wet, so i may have inadvertently diverted the deluge rather than fixing anything. i just met a guy who is on his way to south china, maine, where my family lived when i was younger. what a small world. not many people know where south china is, let alone erskine academy and chadwick hill drive and all the other random spots in a small town that no-one who hasn't or doesn't live there would care about. i think i should eat a granola bar

7:25 am- i still feel incredibly sleep deprived: i feel like i've taken eight half-hour naps, rather than getting any sleep of real substance. small and uncomfortable seats, coupled with a re-emerging drip (applied liberal amounts of duct tape this time), no doubt have contributed to my lack of any real sleep

8:56 am- schenectady?

9:10 am- i think i'm awake for good now... can't seem to get back to sleep. the sun is out and i'm hungry; unfortunately, my stash of granola bars (now down to one) is stowed above my head, and the guy between me and the aisle is sound asleep. i'll hold off for now

12:15 pm- it's hard to write when the bus is moving, hence the increasingly sporadic nature of my entries. the bus has quite the rattle to it, which makes for a rough ride. i finally managed to grab my last granola bar, but that has long since worn off and i'm ravishingly hungry yet again. we're passing through worcester, ma right now, which is sort of discouraging: it's only a 2.5 hour drive from here to portland, but i have 6+ hours of travel time left due to a stop and layover in boston. traveling by bus is definitely cheaper than pretty much any other mode of travel... but, you get what you pay for

1:32 pm- boston. finally. now i have a two-and-a-half hour layover... yippee. a salad from mcd's, some pretzels, a coke, and a pack of gum serve to make me feel slightly more human

2:10 pm- the terminal smells like sweaty armpits. so i head outdoors, where it's beastly hot but at least there's some fresh air and the sun is shining. i've been indoors for far too long

3:05 pm- back inside. had a very interesting conversation with a guy named joe, who also happens to be bound for portland. he seems to have a genuine love for the Lord, attends church and knows the Word, but he's also a very strong proponent of the wacky tobaccy. he's had a rough past couple years; spent some time in prison for various charges, but now has a decent job and seems to be seeking and searching. had a long talk about marijuana, and why he thinks that it's perfectly legitimate for a christian to use it. i have to admit, he made some pretty convincing points, but at the end of the matter i just encouraged him to make sure that there wasn't anything keeping him from God that he was granting too much influence in his life. he was telling me he used to live in alaska on a large lake populate by inland seals, and that they had ginormous teeth and were the "wolverines of the water." joe also said that he had personally seen a wolverine take down a bear. of course, he did also say that "it can be hard to play the guitar when you're on acid," so i'm taking everything with a grain of salt. even so, i wouldn't want to mess with a wolverine. or one of those psycho seals.

3:55 pm- out of the terminal, onto the bus for the last 2-hour leg home. the bus is only about 1/3 full, so at long last there's plenty of room to stretch out

6:00 pm- portland. at long, long last. i just realized that i have zero food in the house, so i swing by the "save-a-lot" on my walk back to the apartment and pick up some bread, pb&j, some milk, and a tin of herring

6:30 pm- home. sweet, wonderful home. i survived. shower. bed. work tomorrow? at 6:30? wake up at 5? those thoughts don't matter. all i know is that right now i'm this close to being clean, full, and asleep, a three-for-one combo that has eluded me for quite awhile. g'night, world

the beginning

(a very good place to start)


this past march, i almost bought a moped.

i had just sold my car, and was going to use some of the cash to buy the hottest things on two wheels, a 2007 honda ruckus. unfortunately, i didn't have quite enough cash on hand to get the deal done, and because i've decided to shun debt like the plague (wish i had decided that before i went to college, but that's another story) i had to walk away, empty handed


it was a sad moment


fast forward almost five months later... i just recently returned home after a month and a half in europe on a missions trip. i'm broke, don't have any form of transportation other than my bike and my own two feet, and am trying to figure out where to go from here. despite all that, life's never been better. i'm getting ready to go camping with my family for a week, then they will drop me off in ohio where i have a wedding to be in (thankfully not my own), and some friends to visit. i'll take a bus back, and then start work exactly two weeks from today

my plan is to avoid buying a car for as long as possible. i realize that at some point it may become unavoidable, but for now i quite honestly have no desperate need to buy a fancy form of transportation that, quite frankly, i can't afford right now anyways. work is an nine minute walk, the grocery store is a twelve minute jaunt, and church is a mere forty-five minutes away by foot (all much shorter by bike). and should i need to go further, there's always the local bus service. ideally, i'll be able to find a used honda ruckus sometime within the next couple months, at which point my wanderings will know almost no bounds. but for now, i can be content to bum around portland for a while. i've fed my wanderlust enough as of late to keep it quiet for a little while yet


so here i am. where do i go from here? who knows. i'm trying to keep it simple, focus on one day at a time. and today, i have to pack. and then sleep. tomorrow, i leave for somewhere. what more do i need to know?