Summer Blues

I'm quite aware of the fact that I'm in the minority when I say I'm not a fan of summer.

Of the seasons, it's my least favorite.  With it's long dry days and stuffy hot nights, each time the mercury crawls above the eighty degree mark I find myself craving the relief that fall carries in on its coattails.

Summer tends to bring out the best in most people (other than the complaining about not being outdoors), with bright smiles, parties and get-togethers, BBQ's, river trips, enjoying the precious vitamin D while it lasts around here in the Pacific Northwest.

10 day forecast for Portland, Ore. from Fox 12 Oregon

That's all well and good for social butterflies and nature lovers who soak up the sun like air, but I can't say I get the same thrill.

Don't get me wrong, I don't mind the sun, it's everything that comes along with it I can do without.  The uncomfortable heat, the thick air, the allergens causing me to sneeze, cough and itch, and of course all the creepy crawlies that thrive under such conditions.

Ugh.

When you're too hot, there's only so many layers you can remove (at least in polite company), only so many fans you can aim your direction, and only so many ice cubes in the freezer to keep your beverages cold.

Cold days on the other hand equal cozy layers and fuzzy blankets, fireplaces, hot chocolate... *wistful sigh.*
Even as I say this, I realize the irony that just four weeks from today I'll be heading to Vegas in the dead of summer, where I'll no doubt be met with triple digit temperatures and dry, arid air that will make me miss home-sweet-home.  For the record, I plan on spending as much time indoors as possible, and I fully intend on returning home thoroughly sunburned, relying heavily on the soothing graces of aloe.

As much as others would hate me for saying it, I hope summer zips by quickly.  With the exception of my much anticipated vacation, I'm ready to skip ahead to the change in the colors of the leaves, to cooling temperatures outside, to the house filling with the scent of sweet and spiced goodies.

I suppose I've just got a case of the summer blues - something that I am sure is statistically linked with those who do not own an air conditioner.

Oh well, time to beat the heat with another cup of coffee.  :)

A Strategic Anniversary

Three-hundred and sixty-five days ago, I was sitting exactly where I sit now, but in a completely different mindset.

I was anxious, nervous.  Hell, let's be honest, I was clueless.  

Just days before, I had undergone a job interview.  I showed up with sweaty palms and what felt like stuttering answers to seemingly simple questions, singing the praises of a degree that the ink wasn't yet quite dry on.  Faced opposite the owner - a snazzily dressed slip of a man with a winning smile - and the director of operations - a guru of technical know-how with a laid back Hawaiian mentality - I couldn't be more uncomfortable, but somehow I survived.  

In fact, I not only survived, I was called the next day with an eager "you start next week!" which brings us to a year ago today.

I didn't know what I was getting myself into, but I had hope, aspirations and the drive to see where the adventure could lead me.  I was a greenhorn joining a well established ship, exploring a world I had a peripheral skill-set to prepare me for.

It was a risk, and I'm glad I took it.

Tomorrow I'll have been at my job for an entire year.

Can you believe that?  A year.

While it may have taken a little time and more than a little effort, I'm to the point that every day I get to do what I enjoy, what I'm good at.  Every day I get to learn a little more, grow a little more.  Sure, there are frustrations, it comes with any job that involves any sort of interaction with... well... rush hour traffic, finicky computers, inanimate objects (such as coffee makers), er.. people - but I still find myself pretty damn lucky.

It's a strategic anniversary I tell ya, and given how far I've come in the last three-hundred and sixty-five days, I really can't wait to see what the next year has to offer.

Looking For the Oscar to My Felix

As progress forever trudges forward, my living situation has become a topic of consideration.

My current daily commute averages 20-30 minutes, if traffic is in my favor.  It's not horrible, though slightly mind numbing, especially when freeway speeds crawl within the mid-20 mile per hour range for no apparent reason.

While it's tolerable, progress as we know it is pushing for a decision:  Face a commute at least double my current trek, or move out of a town that has been my comfort zone for too many years to count.

Aside from a near decade long stint in my sunny southern California home away from home, I've only lived in this town.  In fact, I was born just a couple miles from where I sit now typing these words.  I don't know my way around many other towns, quite possibly on purpose, so the new debate of moving to a city I'm not even entirely sure I've visited has me a little on edge.

Putting that wallop of a detail aside, there's the idea of my future potential roommate.

Over the years, I've had a lot of roommates.  Some good.  Some bad.  Some... indescribable.

The Odd Couple - Tony Randall &  Jack Klugman

The only reason I even consider it now, is because I'm pretty dang sure I don't want to live alone.  I want to share the responsibility, the worry, and I think I need the cohabitation, companionship.

I have some good things to offer as a roommate, really I do.

I have a steady job and pay my bills (fearing debt worse than a cavity, and I dread those).  I clean up after myself and often clean when home alone and bored.  I cook (my foodie blog should be an example of such), and when I do cook, I prefer to cook for more than just myself.  I'm quiet.  I pretty much keep to myself.  Despite being an only child, I have figured out how to share.  I share my video games.  I appear to be a decent go-to person for technical issues including setup and troubleshooting of home entertainment systems and computers.

Here's the thing, there's a few things that I require in a roommate.

They must have a steady job and pay their bills (come on now, that's not too lofty).  While I don't mind doing more than my fair share of the cleaning, slobs will drive me batty.  Though I might occasionally take on motherly characteristics, I am not a mother and do not feel obligated to clean up after anyone as such.  Consideration for others is a big plus - all it takes is a little forethought and afterthought, though it's quite often neglected.  Those with severe pet allergies need not apply - my feelings for my kids (at the moment 2 cats) outweigh my empathy for allergies.  Priority consideration will be given to those willing to kill anything with six or more legs (with or without wings).

So as I ponder my great leap to the other side of the river, I can't help but wonder - will it be possible to find not only a suitable home sweet home that will put me within reach of a tolerable commute, but also a worthy Oscar to my Felix?

I suppose I should start putting feelers out, because as I said before, progress keeps marching on.