Kim and HeroI’ve been pretty silent for some time.

The last time I wrote anything here was in September and the last time before that was an entry in August journaling my trip to Portland.

Of course, with my silence comes either too much work, too much thinking, or too much personal tribulation to tear myself away from. In this instance, it was too much thinking at first and then too much tribulation and, finally, too much work.

There were various storms preparing to collide in San Diego, the least of which was my actual job at Target – which I loved, actually. Our rent was going to jump significantly, life had been impossible to live financially for some time, and a future scraping-by held no promise of growth or progression. Understandably, the economy is in the toilet and our lives have reflected this in the last few years. However, I would not stand by and allow our lives to be taken down. Change was required and, indeed, change had come.

I write now from the green surroundings of Portland, OR. I made the decision to move myself and my family here not long after visiting Portland this past summer. The decision was based on a host of reasons: my aging mom is still here, the cost of living is cheaper, public transportation is top-notch, the general feel of Portland goes more with my flow.

My original intent was also to attend a smaller culinary school here in Portland. Somehow, I don’t think this is ever going to happen, though. During the application and tuition financing phase, the bottom fell out of the lending industry which, in turn, caused the bottom to fall out of any hope I had to attend culinary school. This is OK, though, because I have read far too many accounts of culinary graduates getting stuck in barely-higher-than-minimum-wage jobs for long stretches of time post-graduation. I’m pretty damn good at cooking, yes, but it’s who you know and luck that gets you far in the culinary world. I’m a little short of both. If this, my third attempt at getting into some sort of culinary arts program, doesn’t tell me that I struck out and that I should probably look at other avenues of study, then I am one dumb ass.

And, for the record, I am not a dumb ass.

I’m all right with allowing fate to lead me into whatever direction it wants to take me in regards to food, but life isn’t all that fair, especially now. I am re-evaluating my educational options at this point and most likely will finish up my degree, finally, here in PDX. Exactly what I’ll major in is still up in the air until I sit down with a counselor, hopefully in the next few weeks.

So, where does this leave me?

It leaves me in Portland!

Despite all the gloom and doom going on in America with the failing economy, I’m hopeful. Our first paychecks from Target combined (both Kim and I transferred our Targeteer jobs – I, however, have some other irons in the fire, as well) will pay rent. This is a state of finances I have not seen in over two years. There is a certain amount of freedom you feel when you know that rent can be paid for without having to scrounge. Of course, as life has it, things do not remain the same and I do not expect with the sagging economy for things to be easy. But I am hopeful and that is a step in the right direction – at least for me. I’ve some mountains to move yet, but the biggest has crumbled.

You can expect some life to be breathed into this blog from my end. I’m feeling somewhat settled in, but fit enough mentally to jot thoughts on the proverbial paper once again. Thanksgiving and the holidays approach, which always get my culinary blood flowing. Politics: they are a-changing, and seemingly for the much better. Religion: well, religion is still out there somewhere. I’m sure First Unitarian will jar some of those crags loose for me – when I can actually make it in for a Sunday service.

I am alive, indeed. The great thing is that I actually am starting to feel that way after a long, much too long dormancy.

For those of you looking to make some friends on Facebook, look me up.

Tell me you found me on and I’ll add you.