When life gives you lemons, put a bird on 'em

It’s been quite a while since my adventures of post-graduate "f'"unemployment were last captured in this blog. I had grand visions of updating it with news about a [hypothetical] new home, [hypothetical] new job, [hypothetical] new [insert some other 30-something life milestone], etc. etc. The plan was that I’d be settling into measurable adulthood with the above said accomplishments wrapped up all nice and neat in a box with a little bow on top.

If anything ever actually goes exactly as you've planned, you should know that you’re deluding yourself and life really is what happens to you when you’re busy making other plans. Screw you John Lennon for being so à propos. I had a feeling it'd go like this.

Case in point: shortly after my sweet Charlie passed away, Bret’s best friend and our favorite road trip buddy Katie also left this world. We cried. We grieved. I said “bye for now” to my dear family in Colorado and we hit the road again, this time en route to Portland where Bret very deservedly landed his dream job.

Actually, we haven't quite made it to Portlandia yet. For now we are housed just across the Columbia River in Vancouver, Washington, which is Portland's lesser known, lesser refined, but just as methed out red headed stepchild of a neighboring city. There are days that I see its merits and others that motivate me to get my own damn job so we can get the hell outta here.

Apparently the Bible belt extends much farther West than I thought.

As I scout for work I spend a good portion of the lonely weekday hours reflecting on how I got here. Notwithstanding, I have returned to the original starting point of this blog: where is this place called “home," what makes it that, and what do I envision mine becoming? As of late it feels more like a two person igloo on an iceberg adrift in the Sea of Time-to-Grow-Up, which is not to be confused with the Ocean of You've-Self-Actualized-Now-Get-That-Job-Already somewhere along the coast of the Kingdom of Suck-It-Up-You-Ninny.

The prospects of reaching that part of the questionably constructed life map are daunting. I really, really miss my family. I really, really miss the ranch. I really, really don't look forward to going back to work. My heart is still in the Rockies and our dream is to one day return to them. But in the meantime I'm going to try my best at making a home out of where I am now. I guess you could say I'm choosing to put a bird on it.

So far so good. Lately the humble abode has been full of baked goods thanks to an awesome kitchen-themed Christmas present from my main squeeze. We've also furnished it with a wide array of Craigslist furniture and decorations from Goodwill stores far and wide. Most of all we've added two new fixtures consisting of two very darling puppies that we adopted from a crackhead at a convenience store in the middle of nowhere.

Yes, it was impulsive and yes, I have regretted it from time to time. But they've done a good job at filling the little hole in my heart that has been in major need of some healing. Amid the frustration and occasional disciplinary measures, I thank them for being here with us. It's nice to feel something akin to a family.

Meet Mattie and Trixie, or better known as "Spaghetti Legs" and "Satan's Meatball," or just plainly the "Spaghetti Dinner." I'm happy to provide them a much needed home.

Bath time rarely goes unopposed by the little numnuts.