Monday, December 13, 2010
Sick People and Fire
So the other night my sister and I were sitting on the couch watching a movie when we started to hear this loud honking sound. Originally I thought it was someone in the parking lot who was drunk and waiting for friends to get out to the car. I waited for the sound to stop, but it didn't. My sister, being braver than myself, walked over to the door and looked outside. The next thing I heard was "the cars are on fire!"
I answered the only logical way a person can respond to such a statement ("what?") only to hear again, "the cars are on fire," this time with a slight tinge of fear. By this point, I had reached the door as well (there is only so much curiosity a person can stand, lets face it...we're all cats in that department). I looked outside and there it was, the most terrifying thing I have ever seen.
The carport outside of our apartment complex was, indeed, on fire. The loud honking sound we had heard was coming not from a drunk driver, but from the first car to burst into flame. The middle of the carport was one mass of orange flames. The heat from the fire swirled into our apartment, licking our faces. Naturally, my initial response to all of this was "oh my gosh the cars are on fire!"
My next, more rational response, was to stand lost in the living room thinking painstakingly through what we needed to grab before running to the nearest exit facing away from the fire. I grabbed my keys, my jacket, and my cat. My sister, the one with the logic skills, yanked the closet door back and heaved the cat carrier from beneath the pile of blankets it supported. "Put the cats in the carrier."
Within seconds, Oliver (that's my cat) was being stuffed into the cat carrier while my sister raced through the apartment searching for her cat. When both cats were stuffed into the carrier (which wasn't easy considering the loud popping sound coming from the fire) we both raced out french doors, through the porch, and out onto the lawn behind our apartment complex.
We marched to the beat of the popping cars across the lawn only to find that we were fenced in all the way around. We jumped the fence and stood in shock and awe as we watched our new car (Georgie) burn to the ground along with every other car in the carport. In the time it took us to walk around (all of 3 minutes) the entire carport was popping. We heard the splash of glass as the windows burst from the heat and pressure. the fronts of the cars were jumping off the ground as the heat and flame reached the gas tank.
Standing a safe distance away now, I was finally able to register the smell. The fumes from the gas mingled with the scent of flame. The smoke from the carport made a scent almost like that of a campfire. Black smoke filled the air, blocking out the giant harvest moon that was glaring down on the scene.
Then, the most amazing thing happened. Neighbors began to pour out from every house and apartment complex within a block of the fire. I met people I had never met before. We stood together and watched as the fire licked the inside of the stairwell of our apartments. We watched the firefighters spraying the unrelenting fire with fire retardant and water. And right there, in the middle of all of this, on the phone with my mom (repeating over and over again "it's just so loud") I had an epiphany.
I looked up to see the silhouette of two high school aged kids cuddling against the backdrop of the bright orange fire. Yes, cuddling. Making googly eyes and holding one another while I watched the fire get closer and closer to my home. Can you guess what my epiphany was yet? That's right...people are sick. Even though everyone stood out there on the freezing street corner with me, none of them were there to commiserate. They were there to watch someone else get the shit end of the stick.
Now, I'm not the kind of person to judge others. In fact, I usually get along great with others. Hey, I'm the girl who repeats the obvious, stubbornly sticks to her opinions, and refuses to grow up (case and point...I went to Walmart the other day just to buy one of those blow up balls for two-year-olds not for a gift, but for myself. That's it; that was my list). Being this kind of a person really doesn't leave me with a whole lot of room to judge, but seriously, cuddling? Wow.
Luckily, we were one of the few people to have full coverage on our new used car (the responsible party carried no insurance on their vehicle, not even liability), the fire department put the fire out before our home burned down and we were allowed to go back inside, cats and all. As I took a nice, long, warm shower that night, I realized that people truly are sick; at the same time, it was nice to have someone there. Even if it was a cuddling teenage couple. And even though I jump at the sound of car horns and sirens now, at least I have a dry place to sleep. I suppose this must have been what Molier meant when he said God was a comedian playing to an audience too afraid to laugh.
I answered the only logical way a person can respond to such a statement ("what?") only to hear again, "the cars are on fire," this time with a slight tinge of fear. By this point, I had reached the door as well (there is only so much curiosity a person can stand, lets face it...we're all cats in that department). I looked outside and there it was, the most terrifying thing I have ever seen.
The carport outside of our apartment complex was, indeed, on fire. The loud honking sound we had heard was coming not from a drunk driver, but from the first car to burst into flame. The middle of the carport was one mass of orange flames. The heat from the fire swirled into our apartment, licking our faces. Naturally, my initial response to all of this was "oh my gosh the cars are on fire!"
My next, more rational response, was to stand lost in the living room thinking painstakingly through what we needed to grab before running to the nearest exit facing away from the fire. I grabbed my keys, my jacket, and my cat. My sister, the one with the logic skills, yanked the closet door back and heaved the cat carrier from beneath the pile of blankets it supported. "Put the cats in the carrier."
Within seconds, Oliver (that's my cat) was being stuffed into the cat carrier while my sister raced through the apartment searching for her cat. When both cats were stuffed into the carrier (which wasn't easy considering the loud popping sound coming from the fire) we both raced out french doors, through the porch, and out onto the lawn behind our apartment complex.
We marched to the beat of the popping cars across the lawn only to find that we were fenced in all the way around. We jumped the fence and stood in shock and awe as we watched our new car (Georgie) burn to the ground along with every other car in the carport. In the time it took us to walk around (all of 3 minutes) the entire carport was popping. We heard the splash of glass as the windows burst from the heat and pressure. the fronts of the cars were jumping off the ground as the heat and flame reached the gas tank.
Standing a safe distance away now, I was finally able to register the smell. The fumes from the gas mingled with the scent of flame. The smoke from the carport made a scent almost like that of a campfire. Black smoke filled the air, blocking out the giant harvest moon that was glaring down on the scene.
Then, the most amazing thing happened. Neighbors began to pour out from every house and apartment complex within a block of the fire. I met people I had never met before. We stood together and watched as the fire licked the inside of the stairwell of our apartments. We watched the firefighters spraying the unrelenting fire with fire retardant and water. And right there, in the middle of all of this, on the phone with my mom (repeating over and over again "it's just so loud") I had an epiphany.
I looked up to see the silhouette of two high school aged kids cuddling against the backdrop of the bright orange fire. Yes, cuddling. Making googly eyes and holding one another while I watched the fire get closer and closer to my home. Can you guess what my epiphany was yet? That's right...people are sick. Even though everyone stood out there on the freezing street corner with me, none of them were there to commiserate. They were there to watch someone else get the shit end of the stick.
Now, I'm not the kind of person to judge others. In fact, I usually get along great with others. Hey, I'm the girl who repeats the obvious, stubbornly sticks to her opinions, and refuses to grow up (case and point...I went to Walmart the other day just to buy one of those blow up balls for two-year-olds not for a gift, but for myself. That's it; that was my list). Being this kind of a person really doesn't leave me with a whole lot of room to judge, but seriously, cuddling? Wow.
Luckily, we were one of the few people to have full coverage on our new used car (the responsible party carried no insurance on their vehicle, not even liability), the fire department put the fire out before our home burned down and we were allowed to go back inside, cats and all. As I took a nice, long, warm shower that night, I realized that people truly are sick; at the same time, it was nice to have someone there. Even if it was a cuddling teenage couple. And even though I jump at the sound of car horns and sirens now, at least I have a dry place to sleep. I suppose this must have been what Molier meant when he said God was a comedian playing to an audience too afraid to laugh.
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Last One...
This is actually the view from the ground looking up through the treetops. I really like the effect the fog and dark had on the way it looks, though.
Welcome to the Oregon Coast...
This is from one of my favorite beaches on the Oregon Coast...Twin Rocks. I love it here...it's not crowded and it's beautiful.
Saturday, July 17, 2010
The Blahs
I've got 'em. Tired, worn out, flirting with the line between feeling so-so and not feeling well...fun, fun.
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