Making Faces

I lay here, waking up from a sleep that started what seemed to be much to early, on a spare bed in a spare room in a friend's house. The weather isn't unpleasant out yet, although this weekend is supposed to be a killer. I lay here thinking of earlier today when I was making this stupid face to Ryan... this stupid face where it looked like I had no chin. Easy to say with his being the size of a small state. But pondering this in my sub-awake state, I have to ask how much of my life is a stupid face and how much is just my face? How much is just me making a statement or a scene and how much is reality, pure and simple? I think we generally put to much stock in what could or should be instead of just accepting qwhat is and what can be. The deference in could and should versus can is that could and should imply difficulty between what is now and what we lust after. What can is a simple acknowledgement that things, ideas, goals exist that we have not yet touched. They're just out there, waiting to share themselves with us like food on a shelf at the market, waiting to be chosen to nourish our souls with their energy, their essense for being. I sometimes feel like that sharing is similar to how we are chosen for consumption by this world, this universe, this God, that we are tested and poked and checked every day to see how ripe we are, to see if we're fit to bring to the table. What kind of face are you wearing? What kind of skin are we showing? Does our navel smell of melon?

I love waking up and thinking of silly things.

The Cold...

I'm finding that my shoulders and hips are paying for me curling up in fetal position on my 4" foam mattress. Maybe I should invest in some more blankets to keep me warmer. Last night, the cold was nipping at my feet. I wasn't uncomforable. I slept soundly until just before my alarm went off. When I woke up, though, I noticed the soreness if a body that is used to sleeping sprawled out on it's stomach. It's funny to me that when it's cold, my issue is not being able to sleep on my belly, not that it's too cold.

Sleeping in the snow...

Right nw I'm laying in my bed all cozy at a Walmart in Lakewood, Colorado. It's been snowing here for a few hours, but I'm toasty warm with thoughts of adventure and kindness surrounding the holidays. In a way, I hope all my doors get frozen shut! That would be great! In the meantime, I would say the testing of this G1 smart phone is proving successful, sans the few typos. (It's a tiny keyboard!) Keep the journey going...

Vandalism!!

I was at work today, and I got a friendly reminder of why I loathe certain people. Thanks a lot, Gary. I hate you. I hate you the most.

It's getting cold!

I woke up this morning, and it was chilly. I'm getting used to rolling over in the same spot when I sleep. Maybe it's because I know that if I roll into a different spot, it won't be pre-warmed. Neither here nor there. Just an interesting tidbit of info.

Dinner has been good. Since the chicken juice, I've been toning it down to ramen noodles and slowly adding things. I think a key to my success will be preparing my food over some plastic, washable basin of sorts. That way, I don't get chicken juice in the carpet. I get it in the basin, and I open the door, and I share it with the insects that may be congregating outside my van.

I go between feeling like an adventure and feeling like settling down. Part of me just wants to clock out and take off, never to return. The other part wants to get a great job and rent a place, get a TV, and just embrace the community idea. That's what I miss the most about having an apartment. I miss neighbors.

But the dream is now being lived. I'm thankful.

The StinkWagon Chronicles

The other night, I was going through the tribulation of making dinner. Normally, cooking is a stress-free, even fun way to spend an evening, but in the van, it's an adventure. I decided I'd make a quick and easy meal. A can of black beans with jalapenos. A can of chicken chunks. A green onion. Some salsa. Tortillas to eat it all up.

I added everything to my little cooking pot (except the tortillas, of course), but when I was opening the chicken, I spilled a little of the chicken juice onto the van carpet. No big deal, I thought. I sopped it up and kept cooking. Dinner was delicious.

I got up in the morning, and I realized the horrible truth. The van STUNK. It STILL stinks, and I made this dinner almost a week ago! The chicken juice killed it. I tried to introduce chicken juice to baking soda and then fabreze, but it seems as though the chicken juice has its own agenda. Sigh... such is life in the van.

Snow!

Last night, as I slept, a strange sound woke me up. I was groggy, as it was two in the morning, but it sounded like sand being blown against the van. I thought nothing of it. "Just the wind." I fell back asleep and dreamed that I was in a musical that took place in a cabin, where people kept trying to bring stuff into my cabin, and I was singing to them to take the stuff back. My wife in the musical, I called "deer face". It's funny what we dream about sometimes... but I digress.

I woke up this morning, and looked out my window, and I realized as I slowly gained consiousness that I was looking at snow. I survived my first night of sleep in the snow in the BattleWagon! The accumulation wasn't much. Maybe half an inch on the places where it actually stuck. But still, it was a spectacular feeling. I got up, ate my bagel, got dressed for work, and took off, driving away from the sunrise with a feeling of inspiration.