Scarecrow ESB

Saturday I worked at the McMinnville pregnancy center, because their director was out of town for a conference. Though it was relatively quiet, I still found my mind tossing and turning and kicking at the covers, so afterwards I headed to McMenamins. First I walked a few blocks down to scout out the location where they have Texas Hold'em tournaments around here. Unfortunately, it's not in a cozy pub atmosphere, but I'll still go check it out anyway. Sitting alone in a booth next to the window, I ordered a pint of their Scarecrow ESB, an amber ale with a bit of a bite to it, and a cup of African Chicken Peanut Soup. After about 20 minutes of watching colored leaves float down from the trees nearby, my lips started to tingle, and I wanted to be outside. While there I noticed two things: One is that Oregon people are fond of pea green attire, and the other is that McMenamins has mustard made with Terminator Stout. Both of these things made me smile.

Eyes still salty and sore from unfavorable relations at home, I drove back to what is not to be referred to as "my place" anymore, and I couldn't get that old Natalie Imbruglia song out of my head, the one that goes: Illusion never changed into something real. I'm wide awake and I can see the perfect sky is torn. I don't even like that song. As I was driving, there appeared around the corner a rainbow against the backdrop of dark and white clouds, hanging fantastically low to the ground. The whole scene looked as though it might burst into tears at any moment. So I put on running shoes on and ran around the track for a mile, took a shower, and cooked up some chili before it started to rain again. Slept far too late into Sunday... Dreamed about being stuck in some alternate dimension of time, my only chance to return being in the creation of a portal from the other end, if only they knew... Ah yes, here is your chance to ruthlessly mock my childhood affinity for Star Trek. :o)