Just another Monday

29 December 2008

It is really hard to believe that my life is interesting enough that I would have anything to say on a Monday.  Today was very much an adult ay, had to make phone calls during break this morning, and then after work all sorts of errands including food shopping.  The past month I have been living in a state of slight starvation, especially come 3 in the afternoon I get all dizzy, and nearly passed out one day while riding downtown, which would have be hilarious passing out in the middle of 17^th.  Wonder how many times I would be hit before someone would try to pull me out of traffic, my guess is 4.  I actually had a dinner for myself tonight, and have the materials for breakfast. 

Today while running my errands I nearly got hit by the light rail, and I almost slammed into the back of a bus.  The bus was completely my fault I was drafting it at 25-30 mph, and you can’t see anything at all since it’s a BUS.  They slammed the brakes, ad I guess left or right, picked left and was not doored or killed, until that point I was having a ton of fun. 

I go to the post office 2-3 times a week depending on home much stuff I have on eBay, and I go there roughly the same time each day between 2-4. Everyday I have gone in they have Def Leopards Hysteria album going, first that is an odd album, who listens to that in 2008?  Secondly, every single time I have gone in there it is going, and for the most part it’s the same crew, but regardless of who is working this CD is running.  I am asking what the deal is when I go there next time, I will keep you all posed.

I got new manprise in the mail so I was sporting them today, and second I stood up, on my ankles they were, which has its time and place, a stop light downtown, 5ish NOT one of those times.  They literally were at my knees as I track stood in the middle of traffic, I got a few beeps, which I guess was a good thing.  Since I do not wear underwear I was waiting to get arrested for indecent exposure.  I got home, and pulled out my skinny belt, this belt I have not been able to wear in a year and a half?  I squeezed into it today, I will admit it did not just pop on but, I got into it.  This was after going to the gym, where I was totally checking myself out, for being fat and out of shape I don’t look too shabby.  Lifting for the first time in almost 2 years… that was well depressing, I am have the strength of a 12 year old pre-pubescent school girl with scoliosis.

Another week ticks away

28 December 2008

 

Fred Flintstone was a bastard

I put the Flintstones on my Netflix queue a few months ago, and finally made it to the front of the list.  I was going to hide it in back again but figured The Flintstones; I spent half my years watching the show.  I was still watching it in high school, so figured it would be interesting revisiting it 12 years latter.

I learned that it is the worst cartoon ever; it’s about an overweight bastard who shits on everyone.  Every once in awhile he learns his lesson, and quickly forgets the moral.  Ok, so the argument could be made that family guy is the same basic premise, which is true but Fred is not nearly as funny as Peter.

I watched the disc and started contemplating how we view things differently as we get older, as well as how gender roles have change.  I remember my junior year of high school someone at lunch had found a book from the 50’s.  It was designed to teach women to be the perfect wife, have dinner on the table, and basic baby your husband type stuff.  It was interesting to see how society has changed, to an era of baby sitters, day care, stay at home fathers, from one which preaches 1 income homes where the woman was subservient.

I actually had an old boss who did not want to send his daughter to college because he thought she would be getting married, and having kids out of high school, and thus the education would be wasted on her.  That one has always blown my mind…

 

Tommy Mac

I received the new Fine Woodworking magazine last night, and thumbing through it I saw n old friend of mine.  I went to school with him, and during that time we were pretty close. This was during my DUI time, and we were talking one day, and turned out that he had been sober for 15 years at the time.  He helped me with my sobriety back at that time, and at some point he and I lost contact. Just before moving to Colorado I was in Canton, MA going to a yoga class, and who has a shop next door?

A few days later I swung by on a bike ride, and ended up talking to him a bit, catching up since we hadn't talked in a few years.  He is a cool guy, too arrogant for me, but eh he has a successful business going, so clearly one of us is doing something right.  It was just funny looking through, and being like I know him!  It has happened with instructors but never someone who was there as a student with me. 

I remember fixing his backyard for him, spent 20+ hours digging up stumps, regarding, raking, and prepping the lawn for hydro seed one weekend.  If memory serves it came out looking really nice.  I remember dropping an 80’ Oak tree hanging over his garage, and then digging out the stump which was an ordeal. The backhoe was clearly underpowered but it was free. 

I also remember receiving a phone cal while working in his backyard, which was the job offer in D.C.; he invited me down to work in his shop for my spring break.  I ended up going down, ad working all day everyday I was down there since I had no way of getting around, figured might as well work. I remember sitting in the shop that Friday night working on a chest and a drunken bum sits up against the metal grate security door and chatted with me for 45 minutes… memories.

 

 All I need is the roids

Today I got a gym membership, Tuesday Phoenix and I talked, and I am actually going to quit drinking instead of just saying I am.  Over the last few days I took an inventory of what worked for me previously, and going to the gym was one such thing. The gym being located a few floors above the offices where I blow was a big selling point as well.  I figure I have to go into that building everyday for the next 9 months regardless I might as well have the guilt over my head if I do not work out right?  Literally over my head. 

I remember a few days after the talk Phoenix and I were texting, and she said unless I get over the drinking the relationship is never going to happen.  This actually just hit me for the first time. I figured if I blew hot etc what’s the mater, but now there is something on the line, something that matters, it’s nice to have a little support.

 

Exploration

Today I walked around my hood a bit more, and the more I explore the more I love it. Tattoo parlors, Chipotle, good book and record stores within 5 blocks??  This is awesome.  If only a bike shop was so close, but then that just might be dangerous.  Plus while walking to said stores I got called a “piece of sh*t” for not having any spare change.  I figured going into a discussion about how cash is a dated form of payment, and that really there is no need to carry cash anymore.  If he was smart he would have a business card with a PayPal account you could make donations too, that would be AWESOME!!  I think I am going to start panhandling in such a manner, never know maybe people would be more generous?  Just a thought.

I also found out the deal with my laundry room today, ok so it took me a month to figure out where the laundry room is… today I found out it was the room I suspected it to be, but you need a key, a key which I do not have.  Tomorrow I need to call for the key, but for the tie being I am able to do laundry, provided nothing gets stolen, I should be alright, and at least have clean clothes for New Years eve, even if they are not to snazzy.

Into the Belly of the beast (Part 2 of 4)

27 December 2008

 I get transported to Boulder County Sheriffs, and go through the remainder of the booking process.  There are 3 other people there, all for alcohol; they were all on their first offenses.  They were calling their parents telling the story, and asking to be bailed out.  I was sitting there waiting to see what was to happen to me.  I was clueless as to what I was going to face, and well they don’t give you any information at all! 

 I do the finger print, mug shot etc, and then led to a small room to change into the prison garb. I bright orange one piece suit, slip on shoes socks, and some boxers. I change, and am led down a long hall, at this point it hit me, this is not a $50 fine, and get a ride home type situation.  I get led to a pod, and am handed some sheets, a coffee mug with, toothbrush, toothpaste, soap, and a comb.  Then told “16”, I walk into the pod and find 16, and unpack. 

 The pod consists of two tiers, in the neighborhood of 30 cells 10 of which are high security, and are in a separate smaller pen.  All the cells have two beds a small desk, and a toilet, it is roughly 10’x7’.  The upper tier overlooks the open space which is a few tables’ benches, 2 phones, and couple of TV’s with no sound.  There is an ominous triangle of tinted glass, the guard shack which has a little doggie window you use to talk to them.  This is the “Intake” pod where you spend 2-5 days before you get sent to your new home.  You spend around 19 hours a day locked in your cell; otherwise you have 2 hours at night to watch TV, or phone calls. 

 I learned over the next day, that the guards do not like being asked to do much of anything. This pod is “Intake” everyone in here is pretty oblivious to what is going on.  Frst timers have no clue, and have to ask everything, when is food, how do you make a phone call etc.  Once we got out of lock down I started asking the guards if I could get my phone, this is a no-go. After a bunch of begging and pleading they give me the phone.  Which is a classic good cop, bad cop story,  one guard says no, and tells you to shut up, the other gets the phone.  The only reason he helped me was since my dog was locked in my apartment, he clearly has a dog. 

 I called Kate, and her sister with the guard standing beside me, he also let me copy down some phone numbers because this day in age who knows ANYONES number?  The messages I left got Jazmine released and into Kate’s custody (she was not happy)  I was awaiting my bond papers so I could post bond and get out.  Halfway through the day I get the paper, and have a $5000 bond to post…. Hmmm. Again no one tells me anything, and I start looking into bondsman. 

 Monday morning turns fruitful with two people willing to post bond, which would have been great.  10 minutes after getting of the phone with my ex boss who was going to post for me, they yell my name.  Interesting side note, all the doors are electronically locked or unlocked, so you learn very quickly the sound of the “click” it makes when you are opened, it was alarming how quickly that “click” would get a reaction.  I heard the click and open the door, and told me lawyer is here.

 I go into to meet with my lawyer, who is just a kid, in college, trying to finish up his schooling.  We go over the charges, which is a laundry list DUI, No plate, expired tags, no insurance, broken windshield, and think another 1 or two things.  I am also apparently facing felony charges because of the girl in the car.  We go over the charges, which I deny all but the DUI, the rest were either made up (I had insurance) or a result of the accident… I hit a tree, the windshield broke, but they try to charge me with driving with a broken windshield.  Oh, and the greatest “fleeing the scene of and accident” Apparently pushing the car off the road is considered fleeing, yeah it’s a 1mph get away pushing a car. 

 He and I go through my story, and I just tell the story how I know it, so yes I was drunk, etc. He tells me I am facing 10 days to a year in jail.  Ton of fees, classes, monitored sobriety, etc etc. 

 I return to my cell with some sort of sense of relief, that maybe this whole thing might find an end.   There is not much you can do in jail, you can watch TV if your cell faces a TV, but with no sound (this is just intake) or you can read, sleep, stare at the wall, but really not much happening. My cellie was a trustee, which has its perks.  Trustee’s come from prison terminology; they are considered the inmate police so to speak.  They are given special privileges since they are trusted.  In Boulder County, it equated to guys who were facing big charges, and who are still stuck in court, but basically are looking at life.  One guy is in a bug public case in Boulder for murdering and raping a woman 10 years ago.  My cellie was facing a long count of child molestation charges (this is the rumor… no one EVER admits to child molestation) its always my lawyer is working on the case.  The origin of the case is never told, since child molesters are the most hated people in jail. 

 The perks of being a trustee are, you are only in lock down at night otherwise you sweep the floor and clean after meals, and can hang out in the pod while everyone else is n lockdown.  Being a cellie gets you the benefit of not having to close the door, which at least makes the cell feel a little larger.  This was huge since my system was having a tough time, and having a little extra air coming through was helpful. 

 Later the “click” releases me to go to court.  You are led down a hall to a little pen, with a bunch of people from other pods.  Here they do the full shackle, hands shackled to your waist; being presumed innocent is tough when you are in an orange jumpsuit while your hands are chained to your waist.  You go in hear your charges, say your “not guilty” the judge laughs are your plea for the bond to be lowered, and a court date is set up.  Mine is for Wednesday, and am sent back to my cell.

The next few days is a boring repetition of breakfast (530 am) lunch (10301m) dinner (500pm) and 2 hours of being able to make phone calls, and relax.  The rest of the time I am in my cell reading.  My cellie aside from the usual bible and other religious writings had a good little collection he let me use.  Wednesday comes, the felony charges are dropped, and I get sentenced.  120 days suspended, 60 days to serve, 60 hrs community service, one year monitored sobriety, one year loss of license, classes and so forth. 

Early the following morning the “click” and the yell is for me to pack… and into the belly I go.

The Chuckler

27 December 2008

 

This week’s highlight was Tuesday night, which consisted of hanging out with Phoenix.  Monday she and I hadn’t really talked, and by mid afternoon Tuesday I was not in a good mood in general.  I was actually cooking for the first time in my new kitchen which was good.  I also learned that when the knob is not on the oven correctly the temperatures vary. Once that hurdle was figured out (thanks to Phoenix) dinner was rolling. 

Phoenix came over and things were going alright, but she totally read me, and could tell something was up.  We ended up talking about my Sunday blog; we discussed a number of things including my issue with alcohol.  This felt extremely awkward because really I am best off being truthful but general dating rules say there is a line to how truthful one should be  I opened up, and we discussed the issue, and if I am ready to quit.  She luckily supports me in my quest to quit drinking which actually helps. 

Dinner actually came out well, though the clean up has been slow…  The night continued on, and at some point, about 5 minutes before she goes to leave, I muster up the courage to kiss her.  Which after a few minutes lead to me making a joke her dog wanted to spend the night.  Phoenix doesn’t take much crap, or miss much and chimes in with “well she hasn’t been invited to spend the night.”  Which amazingly I picked up on, and Phoenix and her cool little dog spent the night. 

Phoenix flew to Florida the next morning, and I won’t see her again until New Years Eve.  I was actually worried about the whole trip situation since I tend to get overly worked up, but it has actually been pretty cool.  I feel like I have finally found the sweet spot on a wave.  I remember back in my kayaking days when you would find the sweet spot, and you could miss landing tricks but somehow the wave would just let you roll, and find yourself right back on that same wave. 

I just came up with a great kayak/dating analogy for myself.  I tend to date like a hole, or date holes?  A hole in kayaking is when water runs over the top of a rock, log etc and falls.  The force of the water hitting the surface crates and underwater riptide so to speak where the water on the surface is pushing into the rock and the water underneath is trying to escape but gets pulled back.  The larger the fall, volume of water makes a hole stronger and they become “sticky” meaning they cam become very difficult to get out from safely.

Years ago a friend of mine Jim, and I went to run some class IV rapids which we had done once before with people, yes this story screams death.  So, we head out down a class IV rapid, for our second time ever, the water was extremely high, its was a week day, and there was NO ONE on the river but us. Anyone who knows anything about the outdoors knows how stupid we were.  So we are going down, and I have a thing for “bumping” where you bump or blast off a rock, which on the opposite side is usually a hole.  You try to take off with enough sped as to miss the hole on the other side.

I did not realize the other side was a 4 foot fall, which led to a super sticky hole.  The dynamics while in the whole is tough to explain… you are getting pushed toward the rock, and the water coming over the rock starts catching the front of the boat.  The water hitting the front flips you, straight into the rock.  You roll, and find yourself about 2 seconds from flipping again… it’s a vicious cycle, hence sticky holes are dangerous.  After about 3 bouts of ring around the rosy I stuck my arms out, and held my breath.  This allows the paddle to grab water outside of the hole, which will tow you out.  The issue being large holes, mean a lot of breath holding.  Finally I escape, and roll, my buddy was freaking out thinking I had just bit the big one.  We ended up finishing the day with a couple of wild moments, but we all survived. 

You can surf holes, but it’s a completely different act than surfing a wave, and not nearly as enjoyable (personal preference).

My analogy is that I usually treat dating like a hole, that I rush in, get knocked over, and sit under water confused, then sot it out and small back into the rock.  This continues until the hole finally releases me and I float down river.

Surfing a wave, is a little easier you paddle or coast I, and then paddle when necessary to fall back into the sweet spot, but once you are in the zone you can sit in there with no effort.  This is where I wan to find myself where you got the sweet spot, and unless something comes up, there is on real work.  Make any sense? I suppose I just try to force things. 

I actually ended up just talking to Phoenix on the phone for a hour.  This never ceases to amaze me, how easily I can talk to her.  The Monday after my Christmas party a co-worker and I were talking, and he asked how long I have been seeing Phoenix.  I said two weeks, and he was amazed “the way you were talking I would have thought you had been together for years.”  We end up talking a lot abut everything including if Tom Boonen is the sexiest man on earth, one of us does not think he is.  

Skinny John and his magical manprise

21 December 2008

So the weekend turned out well, and as been the case as of late, short.  I went out with Phoenix Saturday night, and met with some of her friends which was really cool. I spent the night, which was very nice, and for once in my life I did not go in for the sex.  I was more proud of myself showing restraint, and recognizing that it is in my best interest to wait. 

We ended up sending the day together Sunday, which was great, freaky but great.  I am not feeling as warm and fuzzy in terms of things working out long-term now.  I have always joked about being a child and it really hit me today.  Phoenix is great, and she is just a lot more put together than me.  Her place is a home, Christmas lights furniture, food, and well all the things adults have in a home.  My place well is clean, and empty I have 3 pieces of furniture, and 3 bikes… that pretty much sums up my place, which s completely by choice, I d not need much.  I am a firm believer in simplicity, and staying away from having stuff, which I struggle with from time t time. 

I am starting to get that feeling I had when hanging out with women a year ago. The feeling that I am a novelty, that they are slumming so they can tell there friends I dated this guy once stories.  Last year I think it was more the Mohawk, they could tell their friends “yeah I went out with a dude with a Mohawk once”.  With Phoenix it is not that, but I just feel like this is lining up where as I am the “rebound” guy.  It just doesn’t seem that someone put together, nice place, and well sorted out life is really going to stick with a dude like me.  I feel the novelty of a guy who is ADHD, and can barely care for himself and his dog will wear of quickly.  Who knows?  Just need to relax and ride the wave, and see where it takes me.

Today while we were hanging out she taught me how to sew, and I made myself some knickers.  Phoenix got me the killer tights the other day, I think as a joke but yes I am totally rocking those bad boys…..

Random Saturday Ramblings

20 December 2008

 

Where is Ty Pennington?

There is this random shoe shop on the corner of my street. It is a mom-pop type place they fix shoes, not sure what they sell otherwise. In the window they have these really random shoes, like a cross between Sex and the City and Elton John.  They also have posters in the windows, not of shoes but one of Janet Jackson, one with 3 scantily clad women police officers posing on a cop car which says “Assume the position” across the bottom.  All of these posters are clearly circa 1988, and are fading with age.  I just wonder why, I almost want to go in and ask the decorating motif, I am sure the bums store the images in their spank bank but really what was their thought process.

Sobriety? We just want your money.

I went to go blow, and last night was my Xmas party though I did not get drunk, the woman was Johnny on the spot with the wine.  The glass never got below half, so who knows how much I really had?  So, I get there 10 minutes before close to give my liver as much time as possible to get it out of my system.  I enter and the place is deserted (place is ALWAYS packed) I chit chat with the dude pay the $4, and he says “Thank you for not drinking have a good day”.  Stunned I say “All set?” he says yes and I leave… I never blew the guy was distracted by the small talk and taking my cash that he forgot to make me blow ha ha.

Dear Assos, and Chrome

Over the last week I made sure I was going to have a Merry Christmas so I bought myself a few things.  A new cycling jacket (though it really looks like a sweatshirt) and new gloves.  The tally was up there for the two items, and I actually had buyer’s remorse.  First the coat comes and I was disappointed. It is really light, no way it can keep me warm riding in the cold.  It is a 1/8” of wool, I am going to freeze I think.  That jacket blows my mind, I was riding in 20 degree weather, little bit of wind. I was sweating!  I was wearing a t-shirt and basically a LIGHT sweatshirt.  Everyone has made fun of me for spending what I did on it, but my god it is a thing of beauty.

I also bought new gloves, also crazy expensive, and today proved well worth every cent. My hands FREEZE amazingly easily, they were great, and I was wearing 2 of the 3.  The system comes with 3 gloves, which fit inside one another so you can adjust it to the cold, and my hands were balmy and still great sense of touch and feel.  I am going to be depressed when summer rolls around.

The even more interesting thing is a week ago I was at a show in my “real” cycling coat, and I had my gloves in the rear pockets. In the process of dancing I lost the gloves.  I went to a show Thursday night, and didn’t lose anything why?  My new kick ass coat has zippered pockets!!!  Phone, wallet, gloves.. all safe… Yes I love the sweatshirt.

“I’m horny!”

I am track standing at the end of my street waiting for the light and a car drive by and a very cute girl yells either “I’m horny” or “Good morning” neither makes any sense, but who cares?  Now, if I was quick on my feet I would have turned chased them down… easily done on Colfax where the lights are everywhere!  Instead I went to go blow with a big stupid grin on my face…. 

I love livin in the city (Fear)

20 December 2008

 

It has been a while since I have spent time in a city, or a good deal of time.  Boulder is not a city, Boulder is nice, but it’s a large town I think nearly half of its population comes from the college.  When I was living in D.C. I had the girlfriend which changed the shape of my time.

Now living in a proper city and near everything is great.  I like being able to ride everywhere, and the ability to see shows all the time is great.  Also riding through traffic though likely to kill me is a ton of fun. 

The past few weeks I have ended up drinking a few times, which is not a response to city life but just another example of my stupidity.  This could lead to a long debate of the “benefit” of state mandated sobriety, its effectiveness, and really its purpose.  They now actually have ankle bracelets which on top of monitoring your every movement also can tell if there is alcohol in your blood stream, does forcing someone sober work? 

The other day I thought there was a chance I would blow hot.  I was texting a friend who responded in a very logical manner, “Going back to jail is bad… think of Phoenix and Jazmine”.  I would not go back to jail for blowing hot, but my friend got me thinking. 

I started to think I am either too self centered or just stopped giving a crap.  I suppose it goes with the thought process if I died how long until someone figured it out.  If I went back to jail who would really care?  I know someone who would take Jazmine and if I left my door open my apartment would be cleaned out in a few hours so how long until someone noticed? 

I have no intentions of returning to jail, but more debating with myself the point of my existence.  When I was a child I was told the following story, which it could be true, or my parents blowing smoke up my ass. 

Apparently my mother miscarried a few times, all with boys.  When she was pregnant with me she was told she would miscarry once again.  My father took my mother to NH for a little vacation and to help soften the blow a bit.  While walking on the pier my mother tripped, landing on me.  She was really worried and returned to the doctor the following week, and the doctor seemed to think that now there might be a shot I would be alright. 

I always kept this story in the back of my mind thinking maybe there was some purpose to my existence.  The story is cute, until I am now 30 and recognize I have nothing to offer society.  My existence has been more of a strain on the world, and family than any benefit my existence has brought to either.   I suppose I am but one of millions whose day to day existence is trivial, after all we can’t all be a genius and invent the pet rock.  Without the millions there would be no need for the pet rock, and brings us to which came first the chicken or the egg?  Without the silent millions would there be need for the peoples whose existence matter?  

An Afterthought:

When I was on work release I looked into joining the Army again.  Amazingly since I am on probation I am a no-go even while we engage in a pointless cat and mouse game, and enforce a police state elsewhere.  I wanted to join infantry, and everyones obvious response was that I was a moron and would end up in Iraq.  What I never told anyone was that at least dying there would make me feel like I actually served a purpose.  Now how twisted is that? Ha ha

The picture was my natural response to spending 32 hours pushing snow around last winter.