I Can't Wait!! or, Signs, Coincidences, And Other Hopeful Superstitions

I was in the Port Authority bus terminal in New York City, looking for the bus to Seattle. I was on my way to Petersberg, Alaska for my second summer gutting fish for 16 hours a day at minimum wage plus overtime. I couldn't wait! Anyway, I saw a guy sitting in a chair, reading. I recognized him immediately; his name was Justin and I knew him from the previous year's fishgut-flingin' festivities. I went over and said hello. It turns out he was on his way to Portland, Oregon. He wasn't going to Petersberg to work the fishing industry again this year as I'd initially assumed; He was from New Jersey and was riding to the West Coast to see some friends. It was just a freak coincidence that we were going to ride the same bus all the way to Portland, so of course we became bus buddies for the three day/three night bus ride. No comments about 'bus buddies', please! I know how it sounds, but I don't care... a three day & night bus ride on a dirty Greyhound 9 years ago made me extremely grouchy, and I still haven't recovered. So BACK OFF! Grr.
Anyway, we talked quite a bit on the ride, but what makes this whole thing a significant event for me is that I had already decided that when the summer was finished and I'd saved up, I was going on a trip to Europe for as long as my money would last. Justin had spent the past year in Europe, so of course we discussed it quite a bit. He gave me a list of places he had run across where an American might find work in order to lay low for a bit and extend his time over there. One of the items on the list was the Armed Forces Recreational Center (AFRC) in Garmisch-Partenkirchen, Germany... Well, after I blew too much money in London, Edinburgh, and Amsterdam, I took a train to Garmisch and wound up staying in Germany for 6 years. At the end of that time, the hotel in Chiemsee where I was working was about to close permanently. I'd saved no money from the pittance I was paid there, mostly due to lots of drinking and travelling, and I was a bit panicked about having no prospects, when I met Rodney. He had come to Chiemsee to work for the last 6 months or so that the hotel would be open, as he had worked there many years before, and wanted to be there for the end. He had a friend working for a company in Baghdad who needed some people... and here I am.
Anyway, my point is that I think that running into Justin was the happiest coincidence of my life. Or at least the most significant... It's amazing how one small event can change the course of your life. Of course, I would never have gone to Alaska in the first place had I not been delivering auto parts in Tannersville, PA, trying to decide whether or not I should just pick up my dull pathetic life and leave for the unknown. I was turning over the idea of my recent research into a fishing cannery in Petersberg, Alaska, when I drove by a house that had in it's driveway, parked quite inexplicably, a small freezer-truck with the words 'Petersberg Alaska Seafood' painted on it's side... so I do know a bit about signs from above, oh yes I do. From that truck to Justin to Rodney... I wonder if I'll get another chance at seeing such a signpost, or if I'm on my own now, the universe being tired of leading me around by the nose.
We are three days away from our latest eviction date, and once again I have no idea what's going to happen. I think I'm ready to go... it's getting pretty heated up around here again. I've been hearing loads of mortars and rockets the last few days... Insurgent attacks on the Interzone are like stock funds; they're cyclical. Months will go by and you won't hear a thing, and then a time will come where for about 3 weeks they're lobbing ordinance at us on a daily basis. And then it'll stop again for a while. I'm not worried about getting hit by anything; the insurgents have notoriously bad aim and pretty much never hit anything of signifcance. There are loads of king size potholes around, though. But it's that, plus being tired of not really having anything to do and never knowing what is going on, plus being guilty by association, and feeling like I can't accomplish anything here. I mean, if we win our property battle someday far in the future, this could again become a good job, but it just seems like it can't happen, and it keeps getting pushed back. 
Send me a sign! Actually, getting escorted out of Interzone at gunpoint on July 27th would be a good sign. I can't wait!

Comments

[Dad]

Well it seems you have a couple of pretty good signs mentioned in your last two postings... yeah!! Escorted out by gunpoint would be a sign...
It would be good to see your face again back home... but I know, the globe beckons...