Cousin Burly Slept Here

Octogenarian Hangover

2012-01-07T15:56:00.000-08:00

I didn't win the lottery. I got one number. That's ok. You know you live in SoCal when your desk is by the window, the blinds are shut and you still need to wear sunglasses to see the computer screen.

My Great Aunt Maxine and her one-eyed dog, Banjo. Thanksgiving 2011

My Great Aunt called this morning to tell me she's hungover from her 87th birthday party last night. She lives in a pretty posh assisted living facility where she says that although it's rough thinking you're three years from 90, 87 is pretty much the median age there so she doesn't feel so bad. She says there's a youngster there who's 79. She said there's a lady there who used to own the most ornate boutique dress shop near the capital in Sacramento. She turned 100 recently and as a gift to herself she got a facelift and doesn't look a day over 85. The centenarian also got herself the sleekest red scooter that she uses to buzz up and down the place. My Great Aunt Maxine said that back when she was younger people didn't get cancer from cigarettes until they started putting nicotine in them in the 60's. She then retracted that statement and said that's probably not true. They just croaked and no one knew to blame cigarettes.

She said the birthday party lasted until 11. She wishes I could've been there. The thing is, I was in bed by 9.30.

Lottery!

2012-01-06T15:43:00.000-08:00

I can tell it's going to be a really great weekend because I just know I'm going to win the lottery tonight. It's like how you know the sun will rise or the earth is round or Oprah is actually the second coming of Christ. Take that, Rick Santorum.

Speaking of Rick "The Sweater Vest" Santorum, my friend David sent me a FOX news clip of Santorum talking about how he'd repeal Don't Ask Don't Tell. My favorite quote in it from him is, "You're not homosexual by the color of your skin." This throws my whole identity into crisis. You can watch it here:

And now that Michele Bachmann's gone she can go back to her lawfully-wedded duties of being Marcus' beard.

The other reason I know... I just KNOW it!... that it's going to be a great weekend is because Portlandia's season premiere is tonight. That's right. Hot date with me, my couch and the Independent Film Channel. It's too much sexy.

By the way, if I win the lottery I'm going to pay someone else to write this nonsense.

Things I Learned This Year in L.A.

2011-12-28T16:11:00.000-08:00

Budgie at the beach

Almost a year ago I moved down here hardly knowing anyone. I rented an apartment I'd never seen but assumed it was perfect because it allowed Budgie and was across the street from the dog beach.

I've been homesick for Santa Cruz. Of all the places I've lived, I've never been homesick. I was spoiled being able to step right out and surf everyday in a healthy ocean with friends. I don't know if it's my age that's making me more of a recluse now. I've definitely met some fantastic people here but I still spend about 95% of my time alone; forcing myself to stay disciplined with what I want to accomplish. Here are a few things I learned my first year in LA.

I've swallowed worse things than pride. I let go of having to be right when I've felt wronged or slighted. Not all the time. But when it came down to an important friendship, I owned my shit for once, said sorry and meant it. My opinions aren't my identity. My opinions belong to ego. I don't have to cagematch someone to the death in defense of my opinions (threatened ego). Note to self, send letter to younger self circa 1988 onward about this.

I can no longer consume dairy past its expiration. The flora of my gut has probably had enough for one lifetime.

Pray on my knees with a fearless, open heart. It's free therapy. See this post.

Shut up and meditate. I'm talking about that constant newscrawl chatter and editor in our heads. Check out these free guided meditations from Meditation Oasis you can download on iTunes. Funny, I was telling my friend Melody (who writes a fantastic Yoga blog here) that every time I try to meditate, one of the cats takes a nasty dump in the litterbox. I think it's the Universe's way of honing my sense of focus. Anyway, it's really relaxing to stop looking back or projecting forward and just focus on the only thing that's truly real, which is the moment that's happening now.

Do not compare myself to anyone or anything. Guess what? I'm turning 40 soon. My tits are racing each other to my knees and sometimes I think I could pack luggage to Europe in the bags under my eyes. Oh well. This is who I am. Also, appreciate other peoples' talents, don't line yours up next to theirs. That's the fastest way to feed insecurity and self-sabotage. What you have to say and offer is unique and perfect simply for the reason that you exist in the first place. I am surrounded by some brilliant people here and I find myself often thinking, "How come I didn't come up with that?" It's because I came up with something else. So just be quiet, have faith and....

Never, ever, ever, give up on yourself. Other people might but that's about them, not you. Rest when you're weary but be your own best cheerleader. Do not quit. There are people who talk and people who do. Do something. The universe rewards action. I've come to notice that the people who do a lot of talking are mostly making excuses; standing around talking about all these things they're going to do. And that's fine. That's their journey. If you want something, go do it. You're going to meet headwinds and have very dark nights of the soul. That's ok. They make you a badass ninja.

I don't think people in California are taught to parallel park in driver's ed. I thought it was just a NorCal thing. Nope. From Mendocino all the way down to the Mexican border, parallel parking seems to be impossible for drivers here. But, just about everyone I've met here has been a blessing, a teacher or an angel in disguise.

What are you taking away from 2011? Here's to an awesome 2012 for those who don't go by the Mayan calendar.

Things Done Right. Things Done Wrong.

2011-11-30T18:35:00.000-08:00

Things done right today:

Got up early.
Managed to make it all the way back from the coffee shop, with a steaming cup-o-joe, on the rad new Santa Cruzer pintail PBR skateboard without a spill or broken neck.

Things done wrong:

Jeffrey on a mellower day

My Jeffrey cat charges out the door so fast when I get home that he flies off the second story balcony, onto the iron fence below and one more bounce-splat to the sidewalk.
I spill my coffee everywhere in a mad sprint down the stairs
He limps up the stairs with blood pouring from his mouth
Like any centered adult in crisis, I call my mom (who lives 3000 miles away) crying in a panic. Then I call my cousin Joe, who's working.
My mom tells me to call 911.
I tell my mom you can only do that for people (although it was my first thought)
I wrap Jeffrey in Budgie's blanket and off we go to the emergency vet
Jeffrey wrangles out of the swaddling during the ride, then shits and pisses all over me and the car.
Hundreds of dollars in rent money later, the vet tells me that Jeffrey has officially used up his ninth life, should have serious internal damage or have perished.
Jeffrey just has a big fat lip and lots of soreness. Not even broken teeth. Just a big, swollen, hairless lower lip.
I'm covered in coffee, diarrhea, and cat piss.

Aslan, based on Jeffrey the Cat

Although we're not going to have anywhere to live this month, Jeffrey's going to live. Tugboat brought Jeffrey home one freezing East Coast winter day ten years ago. I lived in an old farm house back then with an acre. They romped like little kids. He's been an amazing soul and friend. Such a wise old owl. He reminds me of Aslan from Narnia. Maybe blowing the rent money on vet bills was something done right. I got a worry on me like a blue dress stain circa 1995.

I know a lot of people say: it's just a cat. It's just an animal. To that I say, GFY.

If You Get Coal for Christmas - A Yuletide Poem

2011-11-29T20:39:00.000-08:00

An Excerpt From

The Confessions of Kimchi Rhinestone: Ladylike Lewd Limericks from The Amerasian Honky-Tonk Angel [Paperback]

if you get coal for christmas

If you get coal for Christmas
Don’t whine like a spoiled bitch
What you have is fossil fuel
And that can make you rich

Although it means God hates you
And your soul is probably rotten
A lump of coal can bring you warmth
When you’ve been locked out and forgotten

9 Nov 2011: Please Be Quiet

2011-11-09T13:30:00.000-08:00

Reasons to be quiet right now:

92% of the words coming out of your mouth (or streaming like CNN newscrawl through your mind) are useless chatter.

Maybe what's coming out of your mouth (or being thought in that brain going a million miles an hour) has nothing to do with the present moment

Maybe you haven't really weighed the power of your words or your responsibility for them once they make human contact. Maybe it's snarky, "Liz Taylor is (was) SOOO fat!" Maybe it's malicious, "Your mother's a whore and your father holds the money." Maybe it's character assassination from behind the safety of your internet connector gadget: "Tifani told me Snooki told her that Doc and Sneezi are satanic elephant poachers."

Maybe you should be quiet because it really is refreshing to tune out your mind and focus on our amazing ability to convert oxygen and watch your thoughts float by like clouds.

I'm only telling you to be quiet because I need to shut up. I need to catch myself when I'm talking shit because that's the Little Me. Not the same as Mini Me. I wonder how many important things I've missed from running my mouth or getting attached to noisy thoughts.

Try to physically feel something good about the person who irks you the most. NOTE: Don't feel them up like you work at the National Restaurant Association-- allegedly. Tell your friends you think they're rad. My friends are rad because they listen to my incessant chin wagging. My recording goes like this:

Dude! She lied to me! They outsourced my gig to India! That dummy almost hit me in the crosswalk! That guy cut in front of me! Don't small talk me while I'm trying get coffee, I'm busy updating my Facebook status on this shitty FB for Android app. You're an asshole because you did/said _________ to me. I'm a washed up hack at almost-40 with nothing but weight gain and cat litter coupons.

Ugh. Shut the fuck up already. So, I've been making a concentrated effort to not see myself as the star of a one-whiner show. We're all just using our illusion and forgetting about the core of who really are. Yes, I just referenced a Guns-N-Roses album.

Normally this is the place where I would then say something snarky about Axl Rose and how I feel ultimately victimized because he ruined one of my favorite bands that then forced Slash to team with Scott Weiland. But why?

He's done nothing to me and we're all going to end up taking the same dirt bath. Might as well make a choice to enjoy it. Don't worry about tomorrow. For most of us, it's coming whether we like it or not. Deal with tomorrow, tomorrow.

Take two seconds to focus on the carbon dioxide coming out of your lungs. I bet you forget our bodies even do that the whole time we're nursing grudges or thinking about next week's meeting without a clue of what's going on around us now.

So, just be quiet for a few minutes and breathe. It feels really good. The moment you're in is the only reality anyway. I'm going to shut up now and try to find something positive to say about that Android Facebook app.

2 Nov 2011: 13 Years

2011-11-02T12:30:00.000-07:00

A couple months ago my mom sent me a journal that belonged to my father. "He was writing a book," she said. "I'm sending it to you." All I could think was, "You've been holding on to this for 13 years?"

It arrived a few days later. I cracked open the cover and saw that distinct, perfect script. My dad's handwriting was almost like geometric calligraphy. I think I inherited my pen obsession from him. He always used a fountain pen with jars of ink. I was fascinated by them when I was a kid. I would sneak into his den, jam the nibs into the jars and get ink everywhere. You don't see pens like that much anymore. Where do you even buy jars of ink? My pens have to be 0.7 with gel ink or else I can't think.

My father's handwriting was so distinct that when I started learning to read I realized the tags on Christmas presents that read "To: Michelle, From: Santa" weren't from Santa at all. I called bullshit on my dad when I was five. "This is your handwriting. There is no Santa." "You're right," he said, and winter went on like it always does. My older brother cried. I could've cared less. You still got stuff and didn't have to go to school. Win-win. When I explained to the kids in my class that it's their parents' handwriting on their gifts from "Santa," some of them started to cry. My teacher sent me home with a note asking my parents to please help me refrain from ruining Christmas for the other kids. I didn't need to give the note to my parents. I jammed it in a crevasse of my white wicker dresser drawer. I got the message. Even at five, I was never into being a middle man.

My father's penmanship

Mine. I think it skips a generation.

I haven't read his book. I've kinda scanned it but mostly slam it shut and shove it into the back of my desk drawer. Kind of like the way I jammed the note from my teacher into my dresser.

Today is 13 years since my father passed away at some place just an hour up the 405. All alone in the middle of the night in a city where no one knew his name but the coroner, at 53. That's fifteen years older than I am now. Hopefully our paths, just like our penmanship, will look a little different.

26 Oct 2011: Going, Going.... Gray

2011-10-26T22:26:00.000-07:00

I started noticing it right after Aimee died. I was twenty-three. A couple gray hairs buried in the back of my head. Wiry anomalies in a bone-straight mane. Rice farmer hair, I called it. Not enough of them to come close to calling it salt and pepper.

Fast forward fifteen years. Tonight I leaned closer into the mirror when I was washing my face before bed. Upon close inspection, my skin looks like a cartographer's dream: crow's feet crevasses that flow into a grid of criss-crossed lines across my mug. Apparently, a lot of grinning... and, a lot of grimacing. And way more gray sprouting up around my hairline like suburban sprawl. It's not an anomaly anymore. It's soon to be salt and pepper. I've dated a couple women who dyed their hair (and probably still do but how would I know? I've never been a let's-be-friends-after-a-fall-out type). That's another post. Anyway, each of them said, "If I didn't dye my hair, I'd be completely salt and pepper." Like it's a bad thing. Is it? I'm aging. Am I accepting it too easily?

Budgie is six and has turned almost completely gray around her muzzle. She and I are similar in age if you think of her in dog years. We're both sitting around going gray. Yep. That's about it.

24 Oct 2011: For Each of You

2011-10-24T14:06:00.000-07:00

For Each of You

Be who you are and will be
learn to cherish
that boisterous Black Angel that drives you
up one day and down another
protecting the place where your power rises
running like hot blood
from the same source
as your pain.

When you are hungry
learn to eat
whatever sustains you
until morning
but do not be misled by details
simply because you live them.

Do not let your head deny
your hands
any memory of what passes through them
nor your eyes
nor your heart
everything can be useful
except what is wasteful
(you will need
to remember this when you are accused of destruction.)

Even when they are dangerous
examine the heart of those machines you hate
before you discard them
and never mourn the lack of their power
lest you be condemned
to relive them.

If you do not learn to hate
you will never be lonely
enough
to love easily
nor will you always be brave
although it does not grow any easier.

Do not pretend to convenient beliefs
even when they are righteous
you will never be able to defend your city
while shouting.

Remember our sun
is not the most noteworthy star
only the nearest.

Respect whatever pain you bring back
from your dreaming
but do not look for new gods
in the sea
nor in any part of a rainbow.

Each time you love
love as deeply
as if it were
forever
only nothing is
eternal.

Speak proudly to your children
where ever you may find them
tell them
you are the offspring of slaves
and your mother was
a princess
in darkness.

- Audre Lorde, From a Land Where Other People Live

Oct 20, 2011: Rejection & Rapture Taste Like This

2011-10-20T13:28:00.000-07:00

Rejection tastes like burnt hair smells. But, if you can overcome the fear, it's not quite as painful as an epidural.

Woops! My bad!

Rapture tastes like the jubilee of Jiminy Cricket. The other kind of rapture (the one that was rescheduled by Harold Camping to tomorrow) probably tastes like sand and burned barbecued chicken drumsticks.

My friend, Nicole, and I had a brief IM conversation today. I pinged her to say goodbye in case one of us gets left behind tomorrow, or our luggage gets lost in hell or we take the wrong train, etc. I mean, that's pretty much a definition of hell.

Maybe hell is where you're on a tarmac in Phoenix in August for eight hours, fantasizing about take-off with a screaming kid kicking the back of your un-reclined seat. I digress. Nicole said she's eating Chinese food for dinner. An interesting choice for a last meal before flowing down the River Styx. I think I'll spend tonight renewing my subscription to Cat Fancy and eating my emotions with a combination of sodium and carbs. My hope for you is less rejection, and more rapture. The Jiminy Cricket kind.

Oct 18, 2011: Prayer

2011-10-18T21:50:00.000-07:00

I haven't written here in a long time. I've been praying a lot lately. Not to a thundering man with shock-white hair and flowing robes. Not reciting scripture repeated so many times the words have lost their weight. I've been praying on my knees -as James Altucher says - so my body knows it's being humble. When I'm in the water, I pray a lot (mostly for my own life in that moment) but also to give thanks to whatever my version of God is for allowing me to be there in the beautiful ocean with all the equally beautiful creation. I hardly get into the ocean anymore. It's altered my attitude to the tune of crankypants.

Lately, every morning, I read a meditation and try to say a prayer for the day before caffeine addiction overrides good intentions. Before going to sleep now, just like when I was very little, I kneel at the end of my bed, clasp my hands, hold them at my forehead and pray. Sometimes for selfish things like great success, less gray hair and delicious arm candy. Mostly, though, I pray for a heart of compassion and kindness. Less judgment and anger.

I pray to have faith and I pray to be comforted through all this loneliness and uncertainty. I pray to have a heart of gratitude and I pray for the people on all sides of conflict who have it ten thousand times worse than I can imagine.I pray for people in despair and pain. I pray for the safety of the defenseless. I pray for the health of our Earth, animals, children and old people. I pray my grandmother will allow herself one moment of happiness in almost 100 years of living.

I say things like, "If you happen to see Tugboat please tell him we love him." I try to pray for the soul of my father but I'm still angry after all these years and I pray for help with that. I give thanks for my friends and I pray for them. Their relationships, their jobs, their families, their struggles. I pray for their health and happiness and I pray that somehow a great spirit in the universe can wrap the lonely and despairing up in Its arms for a moment of peace.

Not consciously, but I tend to pray extra for creatures of the sea and homeless, hunted and abused animals. That's why seeing this today made me so happy:

A 7-day-old baby dolphin, with its umbilical cord still attached, was found beached in Uruguay. This man, Richard Tesore, rehabilitates orphaned dolphins. (Of course I'm praying like crazy for the calf, its mother and this man) Photo: Reuters

Click here. It will make you happy, too, I hope. The man's name is Richard Tesore. He is proof that prayers get answered.

It feels good to pray. I feel connected. Still lonely, uncertain, stressed. Praying breaks apart the panic and tightness in my chest. Sometimes I pray and I start sobbing. Not out of sadness, but release. It feels good to speak with an open heart and be vulnerable. I pray on my knees so my body knows it's being humble. It's hard to do in Hollywood sometimes.

2011-01-12T18:18:00.001-08:00

It's a gorgeous, blustery low tide & starry starry night here in Pleasure Point. So much I will miss.

10 Dec 2010, Session 98: Dense Fog Dirt Farm

2010-12-10T15:08:00.000-08:00

Going out at the Dirt Farm although I probably shouldn't. I think it's the only thing that will adjust my attitude and probably my back. Let's hope not too badly for the former and the latter.

Didn't go out yesterday because right as I was walking home to put on my wetsuit after surf check, the clouds closed in, the storm swell surged and boom! It was raining again. I went for a run on the cliff with Budge and although there are bumps in the water, it's not looking all that inviting... and there's about 1,000 of my closest friends scoping the same spot, long in the tooth for something good. I need to go. If only for a paddle and a few rides. It will be good for me. Sonja and I are going back and forth on email about going. There's the "ehhhhhh" shrug shoulder and squint undecidedly factor. The spellcheck thing on this is trying to tell me undecidedly isn't a word. But it is. And even if it isn't, if Sarah Palin and George W Bush can make up words that become part of the vernacular, so can I. Here's a word I like a lot today: fuck-knuckle. Used in a sentence: Those fuck-knuckles make up words all the time.

Roku

2010-12-09T15:06:00.000-08:00

Sick of cable companies? You may be aware that my distaste for Comcast rivals my distaste for manchowder. Yes, it's that loaded with vitriol.

Just got the Roku that streams just about anything I'd want to see to my wee little television without any of the bullshit. Netflix, Hulu, Amazon Video on Demand, Pandora, ESPN, etc. Wooot!

2010-12-09T13:19:00.001-08:00

The rain stopped about an hour ago. Some swell in the water but a very hi tide. Joel and I hoping to get out for a sunset sesh.

2010-12-09T12:46:00.001-08:00

I love that my mom posts notes to Dr. Oz on her Facebook wall.

Kinda Vegan But Not Really Egg White Salad. It's Still Good for You.

2010-12-05T16:16:00.000-08:00

Why not the whole egg? Because everyone in my family dies of suddenly of a gnarly heart snafu. Also, I'm convinced when I see tiny black or red spots in the yolk that it's a baby chicken eye or vital organ and believe that particular chicken in that particular egg got fertilized and was going to grow up to be a very important chicken had they not shipped it to the hippie grocery store.

I realize it's unconventional to add carrots but we can use a little more beta-carotene in our lives and the orange livens things up. I shall even dare to say it makes my egg white salad sexy. After you eat this, you're gonna wanna shoop.

12 organic egg whites of boiled eggs, give yolks to a domesticated, or wild, animal in your house. Also, choose organic, not free range. Trust me. I worked on a poultry farm. I still owe you the tom turkey story.

7 tbsp High Omega-3 Vegenaise

2 cups each of coarsely chopped carrots, celery and onion. I say coarsely chopped because I'm lazy and bought the pre-packed prepped veggies at Whole Foods. Then, I ground those little fuckers up even further with my awesome Braun hand chopper thing my mom got me about six years ago as a house warming gift. Thanks, mom! So, probably less than 2 cups each if you're trying to be all artisan about your egg white salad.

4 TBS creamy dijon

some tumeric for that yellow color

sea salt and pepper to taste

I put cayenne all in it!
Some squirts of lime juice
Some squirts of lemon juice

Chop up the whites and add all that stuff together then put it down your gullet.
Or....
Wrap it in a Ezekiel 4:9 sprouted grain tortilla or throw on some greens.

Here's the approx breakdown. Break it down! If you happen to eat a lot of this and get fat, it's not my fault because I'm really bad at math, although I think this is correct. I even consulted some calorie calculators. Remember the fats in here are GOOD fat.

Serving Size: 1.5 cups
Total Fat: 8g, Sat fat: 0.46g
Cholesterol: 0mg
Sodium: 422.58mg
Carbs: 8.68g, Dietary Fiber: 2.34g, Sugars: 3.95g
Protein: 6.41g

PS- This rain needs to stop. In two months and one week we'll be riding the warm waves of Costa Rica!

Storm Waves and Egg Whites

2010-12-05T15:34:00.000-08:00

I'm standing at my kitchen counter. It's another cold, windy, and rain-driven day where since dawn it always seem to feel like dusk, until it's dark. Right now I'm boiling 12 eggs in my attempt to make an egg white salad. After our run this morning, I made a kick-ass breakfast burrito. I will post the recipes. By the way, last night I opted for the vegan vanilla bean cake. I don't have a sweet tooth but don't think of me as too blessed. I have a full set of salt, fat and cheese teeth. Anyway, I expected the cake to taste like crumbled ass chips. It was deeerishus! And not too sweet.

So, since going to Rocky's in the morning instead of so many 12 oz curls, I've dropped about 12lbs as of this week. I haven't felt this fit in about 15 years - since running my ass off four hours a day in college. I'm not eating any animal proteins except for organic egg whites from a local farm, Judy's Family Farm up the road in Petaluma. Don't be a marketing victim and fall for the "free-range" label.... I could keep chickens in my kitchen cabinet and show them the light through my window once a day and call them free range.

Cousin Burly's Ass Blastin' Breakfast Burrito

1/2 cup organic liquid egg whites
couple of chopped grape tomatoes, a few broccoli florets
1 tbsp chopped red onion
1 tbsp pea sprouts
1 tbsp red cabbage
2 tbsp Eden Organic Black Beans (get their kind bc the cans are not lined with Bisphenol-A <- gnarly toxin in most canned foods)
1 Ezekiel 4:9 sprouted grain tortilla
salt and pepper to taste
2 tbsp Hot salsa (I use Roberto's hot salsa that rocks.... but it's made here in Santa Cruz and sold in local markets, not sure if it's distributed nationwide. Best salsa EVER).
Add cheese if you want (I didn't this time).

Because I'm lazy, I nuked the egg whites and veggies for about 6 minutes. Warm the tortilla in the oven at about 250 during that time. Put all the cooked egg mixture onto the tortilla, add the black beans and salsa. Nom nom nom!

Approx breakdown is:

Calories: 273.08
Fat: 3.85g (don't ask me about saturated, etc. How the hell do I know? It's good fat, trust me)
Cholesterol: 0 (see, I told you the fat wasn't that gnarly.)
Sodium: 339.81mg
Carbs: 38.58g Sugars: 1.76g
Fiber: 7.67g of good ol' poopmakers
Protein: 21.62g (that is kick ass) We're here to pump (clap!) you up.

Next time I'm going to add some spinach and avocado. I was out of 'em today. Ok, my ovums be-a-boilin and I must attend to my egg white salad experiment. Be back with the results in a bit. This rain is more persistent than Sarah Palin.

2010-12-05T13:00:00.001-08:00

I have deduced that the best possible life includes as many good waves with good friends and good stories as possible.

2010-12-04T13:14:00.001-08:00

Cold. Rain. Off to play some cards at Thunder Valley. See what kinda double deck game they've got. I know their rules are lame but we can count around them.

2 Dec 2010, Session 97: It's Damn Cold

2010-12-02T20:15:00.000-08:00

Tonight's sunset sesh was like paddling around in a big, glassy palette of purple and orange watercolors. The tide was super low, so every wipeout ended up with reef in tailbone. Sure I'll have some nice bruises and stiff back in the morning. God, it felt so good going back into the ocean today. It's been 15 days. It was damn cold and I wore the squid lid for the first time. Not a fan but at least it didn't let too much water in. Wearing all the thicker cold water winter gear makes movement a little less fluid. Wasn't the best sesh as far as actual surfing goes, but it wasn't the worst.

What it was felt like an immediate adjustment into the present and positive. Feeling humble, thankful and sharing a blazing, heartachingly beautiful sunset with a pod of playful dophins in the kelp beds. This time last year I was a shattered wreck. Today I'm glad I never turned back. You know how they say when you move on, you should never look back? I think sometimes you should. As a gut check. Maybe a little guilty-giving-in-to-curious-temptation. Maybe if only to gauge how far you've come and why it was worth it to leave in the first place. Worth the pain, isolation, suffocating heartache, fear, and loneliness. You realize all those things you clung so tightly to would've ended up as dead weight in the today that all that pain paved. My dad used to say one of the worst qualities to have was being all talk and no action; not doing what you say you're going to do, whether it's taking out the trash or taking on the world. He was right. The universe only rewards action. There's lots of pontificating blathering airbags talking about change. How many are actually doing anything?

Sometimes you look back and see that the only thing that's changed about someone's life is that you're not in it - and it's a good thing. The rest is more of the hamster wheel spinning round while they talk big talk and avoid all obstacles.

Anyway, don't be afraid to look back, but not for too long. A glance is good, but stay facing forward.

Anyway, I owe the story of my tom turkeys from my days on the poultry farm. But right now, if you have room on your dance card, say a prayer for my Mom-o-San who is very sick. That's all I'm going to say about that but I'd really appreciate it. Heading to Florida soon.

2010-12-02T12:37:00.001-08:00

Slight traces of waves and chills in the air. But I'm going nuts being out of the water for so long & I could really use some waves today to stay present.

Bacon Bits

2010-12-01T16:34:00.000-08:00

"As in any kind of factory, uniformity is essential. Piglets that don't grow fast enough - the runts - are a drain on resources and so have no place on the farm. Picked up by their hind legs, they are swung and then bashed headfirst onto the concrete floor. This common practice is called 'thumping.' "We've thumped as many as 120 in one day," said a worker from a Missouri farm.

We just swing them, thump them, then toss them aside. Then, after you've thumped ten, twelve, fourteen of them, you take them to the chute room and stack them for the dead truck. And if you go in the chute room and some are still alive, then you have to thump then all over again. There've been times I've walked in that room and they'd be running around with an eyeball hanging down the side of their face, just bleeding like crazy or their jaw would be broken.

A barrage of antibiotics, hormones, and other pharmaceuticals in the animals' feed will keep most of them alive until slaughter despite the conditions. These drugs are most needed to combat the respiratory problems that are ubiquitous on hog factory farms. The humid conditions of confinement, dense quantities of animals with stress-weakened immune systems, and the toxic gases from the accumulating shit and piss make these problems practically inescapable. Fully 30 to 70 percent of the pigs will have some sort of respiratory infection by the time of slaughter, and mortality from respiratory disease alone can be 4 to 6 percent. Of course this constant sickness promotes the growth of new influenzas, so entire hog populations of entire states have sometimes had infection rates of 100 percent from deadly new viruses created among these densely packed sick animals (increasingly, of course, these viruses are infecting humans).

In the world of factory farming, expectations are turned upside down. Veterinarians don't work towards optimal health, but optimal profitability. Drugs are not for curing diseases, but substitutes for destroyed immune systems. Factory farmers do not aim to produce healthy animals." ~ Jonathan Safran Foer, Eating Animals

Ninety-nine percent of our animal protein comes from factory farms -- the world's largest environmental and disease threat. Everyday we vote with our dollars at the supermarket and restaurants to funnel money into the corporations that profit from these practices in the name of cheap protein.

The images of Old Macdonald's farm are pleasant, even sentimental, but no longer the reality except for 1% of the independent farming population. My Korean grandparent's farm was a lot like Old Macdonald's farm, except this one had rice patties, shorter people, an outhouse, and the biggest ox I've ever seen. Chickens, pigs, rabbits, ducks all roamed freely.

I took that naivete and love of animals with me to Athens, GA, ten years later. I decided I wanted to earn some spending cash by way of working on a poultry farm. We all, well - most of us, have a hard-wired sense of right and wrong. There are core things that will cause recoil in the essence of most humans: lying, cruelty, shame, terror. The poultry factory farm where I worked exposed me to all of these in unison. It was like a sharp lead pencil being jammed into the exposed nerve of a rotting molar. There's a reason why factory farms - the ones that produce the flesh on the fork of your dinner - are locked down tighter than most military bases.

We'll talk about it more. I'll tell you about my flock of tom turkeys I raised... briefly.

2010-12-01T13:20:00.001-08:00

This weather is like someone pouring you a cold cup of coffee, first thing on a January morning in Buffalo.

No Waves...

2010-11-30T18:43:00.000-08:00

... but a beautiful sunset on our post-work run.

Pleasure Point, Santa Cruz, CA. Click to enlarge

2010-11-30T14:39:00.001-08:00

I want to do a full-on lifelike nativity scene outside but no one will let me borrow their baby. Bah humbug.

2010-11-30T12:30:00.001-08:00

Day two of cold and windy. Today we add in 'flat.' As in flatter than my ass. Going to pray to the Baby Jesus for some waves during my lunch break.

2010-11-29T17:34:00.001-08:00

I like the word 'malleable.'

2010-11-29T16:52:00.000-08:00

I just started reading Eating Animals by Jonathan Safran Foer. I'm devouring it. Pun intended. But before I continue, I must feed my own animals and then my hungry self. If I don't, I will end up eating my animals while reading Eating Animals. It would be an appalling but educating mess.

PS- Soo stoked. Booked our flights to Costa Rica today. Wooooot! Some warm water surfing will be very nice. Today it was 50 degrees and barely a bump in the water. Not really worth all the wetsuit wrangling. That's what I tell myself because I'm lazy.

2010-11-29T10:24:00.001-08:00

It was a bad idea to shape my own eyebrows.

2010-11-27T19:06:00.001-08:00

I never thought I'd say this but the megan's vegan tofu spread instead of mozzarella @Engfer's pizza rocks.

Random Pics

2010-11-26T20:59:00.000-08:00

Some pics from going to Marin the other day.

Big Basin. Click to enlarge

Waddell Beach surfer braving the cooooold. Click to enlarge.

Pigeon Point Lighthouse. Click to enlarge


The historical marker at Moss Beach Distillery. A very old speakeasy and rum runner portal dug into the cliffs. Still open, haunted and allows pups on the patio overlooking the Pacific. Click to enlarge.

Moss Beach Distillery. Click to enlarge

Leaving my heart in San Francisco. Crossing the GG Bridge. Click to enlarge.

Thanksgiving Shot

2010-11-25T18:57:00.000-08:00

Took this shot on our run this morning before heading up to Sacto. Can't believe it's been a year. Wonder what the view will look like next year. Don't forget to vote in the poll on the right!

Hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving! I survived but now qualify for The Ellen James Society considering I practically bit my tongue off trying to hold it. I can't even begin. One of the best lines of the night. Let me preface, my mom has pneumonia and was recently in Atlanta. My grandmother today: The reason your mom has pneumonia is because she was in Atlanta that's full of germs because of the blacks.

REALLY? ARRGGGHGH#%$%#%^W%$Q@R@Qad/dfGJDFKNDFBKLNFGSMBNFGMN BRT ! God help me.

Anyway, we started with a beautiful, racist-free run this morning.

2010-11-25T09:50:00.001-08:00

My reward for surviving the Rush Limbaugh fan club Thanksgiving (while sober, I might add) is the weekend of hijinx and merriment in San Canned Crisco with KK and JZ. I can do this.

Where to go? Vote in the poll.

2010-11-24T19:25:00.000-08:00

So the military brat in me says it's been almost two years here, time to move! I've seen, done, touched, tasted lots of cool stuff here and now have ants in my pants. But where to continue the adventure. I can't be landlocked. I want to be somewhere I can somewhat communicate. I was thinking back to Hawaii? French coasts? Spanish coasts? I've already lived throughout Asia. Kim is talking about a month in Mexico where I'm pretty sure I could break the glass ceiling in a major drug cartel. I think in another life I could've been an awesome Kingpin... or Queenpin. Whatever. I'd be great at the construction and/or waste management business.

Anyway, I was late this morning for Rocky's because I had to scrape ice off my windshield. It was in the 20's last night... in Santa Cruz! So, I'm brushing up on my French because I'm thinking about maybe a move to Europe? I've never lived there. France has amazing surf on their Mediterranean coast. I have the animals to keep in mind. I need to check the quarantine policies of all these places. A stop in Fiji, Bali and Central America for sure.

Let's see if I can find a poll widget. Where in the world should I move next once the winter waves subside? Ok, I put the widget on the right nav here. Where in the world do we go next?

2010-11-23T11:46:00.001-08:00

And, for the last time, I stopped playing music to devote myself fully to finding the perfect hairstyle.

2010-11-23T11:05:00.001-08:00

Possible band name: The Waterboarders. Too soon?

Success!

2010-11-22T10:31:00.000-08:00

So, I'd like to point out that my period zits look like a strategically placed herpes outbreak on my face. Since the storms have squelched the surf and my face looks like something that should be delivered by Domino's or played by Lon Chaney, methinks I shall head into nature where I can blend in with some fungus or tree rot.

Anyway, I am off all week! I would've headed to Tahoe with everyone else but I have to spend Thanksgiving with my grandmother and great aunt. I know, I know. I am an awful person for dreading it but you haven't met them. They're from my dad's side of the family and to paint a quick and dirty picture:

they go on Rush Limbaugh cruises
they pray to Jesus every Sunday that I become less like me and more like Sarah Palin
the reason there's so many bad drivers in California is because of all the foreigners
my grandmother yelled at an Asian woman once in a parking lot and called her a so-and-so oriental with me standing there. Then, she turned and said to me, "Don't worry you're not one of those orientals."
Two weeks ago she called me, as Joel and I were headed to surf Manresa, to let me know she was at Neiman Marcus and buying me a pair of leopard print high heels because she saw them in an ad where a smartly dressed business woman was getting off a plane wearing them. She said it will give me "the look of success."

I think my period zits that look like herpes give me the look of success. Just really depends on what your definition of success is. Success! I'm not pregnant. Success! I can ovulate! Success! I figured out how to take pictures with my new camera! I'm so fucking successful I can't take it sometimes.

Anyway. I have this week off and will make the most of it. Hoping to head up to Tahoe on Friday morning to meet my friends after Thanksgiving hell. Until then, here's my plan.

M is for Monday. M is for Marin. Going up to Pacifica to scope out a place and then to Marin.

T is for Tuesday and tidy up the place.

W is for Wednesday and I don't know what's going to happen on Wednesday. Hope W is for waves.

I miss my boy. The one guy I did everything with and if he wasn't with me, he was waiting for me in the truck. So lonely without him.So very lonely I'll never have another friend like that.

2010-11-21T09:30:00.001-08:00

I hadn't realized how unused to uptight people I've become. They shock me like landmines.

Here's a cool quote I read this morning in an interview with Timmy Hunt, the owner of Aloha Island Grill right down the street. It's about aloha:

Always live with aloha. Be genuine and kind to others and perpetuate a positive mindset towards others as well. Smile, brah, and give from the heart.

If You Get Coal for Christmas by Michelle Burleson

2010-11-20T21:59:00.000-08:00

Spoiler Alert! = There is no such thing as Santa Claus. And if there were, any fat, hairy dude in a full-on matching red track suit slithering into your house on a cold winter's night needs to be shot and tied to the banister with blinking lights until the cops get there, not fed cookies. Don't act like it's a holiday miracle. It's armed robbery for the love of Christ... whose birthday you should technically be celebrating.

Now fire up that Menorah and come closer. Let me speak the parable.

If You Get Coal for Christmas
by Michelle Burleson

If you get coal for Christmas
don't whine like a spoiled bitch
What you have is fossil fuel
And that can make you rich

Although it means God hates you
and your soul is probably rotten
a lump of coal will bring loads of joy
when other gifts have been forgotten

PS- Snowmo's are gay snowmen and women.

2010-11-20T19:49:00.001-08:00

And now I just saw lightning. rad but odd.

2010-11-20T19:39:00.001-08:00

Just heard thunder for the first time in almost two years.

17 Nov 2010, Session 96: Limp Noodles

2010-11-17T18:16:00.000-08:00

My spot started breaking today during a surf check. Glassy, warm and relatively empty ocean. No one was in my happy place... and by happy place, I mean the spot I like to surf when most people don't realize it break right there. Not my other happy place. At least not this afternoon.

Sprinted home, suited up, wax on. For about 15 minutes, I got wave after wave after wave. Love, love, love days like this. Then the masses approached. Oh well. My sesh was only about an hour because my arms were outta gas. Really worked shoulders and back at Rocky's this morning and I hit the wall, but at least I didn't hit any cliffs.

Interesting side note. While I was all alone in my happy place, two hot chicks paddled out about 50 yards north from me. They didn't really seem as interested in surfing as they did in making out feverishly. Fascinating.

Anyway. We've had a nice run of warm, sunny weather but the rain is on its way.

PS- That wake up alarm that simulates sunrise is amazing. I popped right up at 5 am ready to milk some cows. And I mean that with all due respect. Hope I can see some of those Leonid Showers tomorrow morning as long as the sky is crisp.

Here's pics from our walk this morning

click to enlarge

2010-11-17T12:31:00.001-08:00

My happy spot is breaking and there is no one on it. Gotta go!

Best Song in a Long Time

2010-11-17T09:48:00.001-08:00

I love this

Things I Read Today

2010-11-16T17:43:00.000-08:00

Finished work early in the afternoon. Took Budge for a nice long walk along the cliff. Had intentions of going out on supposedly one of the last warm and sunny days for the week. The waves were looking so-so and the spot was crowded. Decided to stroll along shore with girl dog today. Feeling physically tired and back is a bit jacked from the Second Peak piledriver wipeout from yesterday.

Sometimes you spend all day reading mindless, banal crap that only turns your mind into further mush. This post could be part of that. My work time ends up being a lot of that type of material; writing it and reading it. So I'm trying to be more disciplined making time for words worth reading during the day. After our seaside stroll, Budgie and I kicked back on the deck, ignoring my email ding announcing new messages, while I read other things.

Here are some snippets of things I found interesting.

An abstract of Peggy Noonan's (Ronald Reagan's primary speechwriter and Special Assistant) Wall Street Journal opinion column:

The Tea Party "provided the fire and passion" of last week's congressional elections and won some major victories. But it also got some conservative candidates nominated who were lacking in "dignity and stature," and were thus rejected by mainstream voters. "In the future, the Tea Party is going to have to ask itself: Is this candidate electable?" That reality seemed lost on Tea Party heroine Sarah Palin, who defended her endorsements and her own unfounded celebrity by saying, "Wasn't Ronald Reagan an actor? Wasn't he in Bedtime for Bonzo, Bozo, something?" That was "ignorant" even for "a nincompoop" like Palin. Before running for president, Reagan served as the president of the Screen Actors Guild for a dozen years and as a spokesmen for General Electric for eight years. He was elected governor of the nation's most populous state, California, twice -- and actually served out both terms. He embodied and popularized conservatism long before it had much public support. Reagan, in short, ran for president "as a fully mature, fully seasoned" adult, with real accomplishments. Sorry to break the news, Sarah, but "it's not just the message, it's the messenger."

I don't know if I mentioned my grandmother keeps trying to give me Palin's copy of Going Rogue. Let's talk a moment about "liberal elitism." I'm not much of either. Well, definitely more socially than fiscally liberal. But, I do think the majority of people are lemmings and they prefer it that way. It's not better or worse. It just is. If people really were "An Army of One" there would be no major corporations full of middle management and parallel-move promotions. Just anarchists, entrepreneurs, inventors. Of course, this is only my opinion. But, there's a minority spoonfeeding the "opinions" of the majority. That's why, regardless of the fact that Obama cut taxes for 95% of all U.S. households, the propaganda machines convinced the public this mid-term that he in fact raised our taxes. Suckas. All of us are victims of it no matter how diligently we aim for the heart of issues to form beliefs based on facts.

I think one party in this country is waaaay better at manipulating the citizens' insecurities, self-esteem, us vs them type of stuff, from the micro to the macro. I wish people on the left had more balls. Had more teeth. I guess Obama does come off as a liberal elitist. Wait. Whiskey Tango Foxtrot is a 'liberal elitist' anyway? Someone who thinks they're better than you but at the same time is open-minded and willing to consider the human condition in governing without invoking the ten commandments? Who knows. I don't know. I guess that's why I'm asking.

At least Obama's not like W playing the role of "cowboy everyman" while coming from very old money and the Ivy League. What did W know about being an every day American? Was it running the Texas Rangers into the ground, flat-busting an oil company aptly named 'Arbusto,' or was it the whiskey and cocaine? Thank the Baby Jesus he found Grown Up Jesus just in time to start some really expensive fights he couldn't finish.

Donkey or Elephant, they all kinda suck. Getting to the facts is a full-time job. Greed. It's what's for dinner. I was reading an article about his book (which full disclosure: I have not and will not read unless I receive it for free because he doesn't need any more of my money). Anyway, W is my least favorite puppet on Sesame Street. All the houses on Sesame Street are probably foreclosed on anyway thanks to the past three administrations; this one included. Enough of the soapbox.

Here's another thing I read today. I'm sure you've already read it somewhere; supposedly by St. Augustine:

Love is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion. That is just being "in love" which any of us can convince ourselves we are. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. Your mother and I had it, we had roots that grew towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossoms had fallen from our branches we found that we were one tree and not two.

Personally, I don't know about this whole "one tree" deal. I wouldn't mind being in the same orchard or forest with another tree that cast me some shade from a harsh sun, but I don't need my roots entangled. That's how mountain bikers endo and that's how trail runners twist their ankles.

Here's something else I read today:

Always be mindful of the kindness and not the faults of others. Buddha

I needed that one, especially when an older guy I know made some asinine, idiot, ignorant (anymore adjectives for 'fucking stupid'?) statement about black quarterbacks last night. I'm not listening to that kind of inbred drivel, i.e. Shut the fuck up.

When you spend your whole life within 50 miles of where you were born, surrounded by people who look exactly like you, maybe the worldview is just a porthole from a ship sinking in one of those tar pits the dinosaurs all evaporated in.

That's all I have. Oh wait. One more thing. I kinda have this fascination with lists. Have you ever found a random person's list of things to do, buy, etc? Ever read Tim O'Brien's The Things They Carried? It's about soldiers in Vietnam and he has a lot of lists in there about what each solider thought important and valuable enough to keep on their person at the time. Gives great character insight. Kinda like instead of saying "Lt. Brown missed his girlfriend," he can write something like, "Lt. Max Brown held three things overhead while wading waist-deep across the leech-infested swamp in frightened silence. His M1 Carbine, the dog-eared, creased, black and white photo of his sweetheart at the state fair, and a soggy pack of Lucky Strikes." I just made that up, but you get the drift. Lists are cool. I bring this up because I've gotten disciplined enough to make lists about shit I need to get or remember to do. I used to think I could remember but then there I'd be in CVS not remembering why I was wandering up and down aisles. Here's my list today:

mineral oil
peroxide
white vinegar
egg whites
eye dropper
Philips wake up light clock radio
tampons

The mineral oil, peroxide, white vinegar, and eye dropper are what I was told can help unclog my left ear that I've slowly been unable to hear out of for about the past two weeks. I've tried a bunch of other things. It's not infected. I'm hoping it's mild surfer's ear but I'm a little worried that it's a combo of surfer's ear and having really loud amplifiers by my left ear for the past 20 years.

Egg whites are for a lower-cholesterol version of Korean eggs I'm making tonight.

The Philips wake up light clock radio is supposed to be this great way of being able to wake up early on dark, winter mornings. It apparently mimics the light of dawn 30 minutes before the alarm goes off and the alarm isn't supposed to be jarring but gradually increases in volume. I hope it increases in volume because I can't fucking hear. I'll put it on the right side of the bed. Anyway, working East Coast hours has gotten a bit harder when I'm up in complete darkness for the first three hours of the day. I'm not a waker upper, I'm a sleeper inner. For the most part. There are hottie and surf exceptions.

Tampons are self-explanatory. I hope.

Here's a better list I found still attached to my "To Do List" stationary pad.

Do bills
Mail taxes
Call Perot
Send Missy stuff
Video edits
glass containers
SmartMouth
video logo page
rules
finish entry form
olive oil
water filter
baking soda
do OIC invoice
do Waiter.com update
waiter.com credits!
reply to James (my comment that's not part of this list: Who the hell is James?)
Read Dell Fed Gov stuff
clean the bathroom and kitchen
get light bulbs

15 Nov 2010, Sessions 94 & 95: What happened to the Skins tonite?

2010-11-15T21:52:00.000-08:00

Joel, Wayner and I went up to The Point to watch Skins v Eagles. Holy shiite clerics, that is not the way to end a perfect day of surf and sun. Anyway, I'm freaking exhausted. Surfed Dirt Farm for a few hours with Zeez and then went on over to Second Peak that was breaking a lot bigger. Got tons of fun waves and one gnarly wipeout. Got sucked over the face. I was underwater in disbelief that my back could contort the way it did. A little stiff now. I got driven so deep that I couldn't tell where the surface was. When I paddled out for the first sesh an absurdly adorable little otter was playing near shore and swam alongside me to the lineup making the cutest, funniest faces at me. Nov 15, 2010, was a great day to be me and a bad day to be Donovan McNabb. If someone had signed me for $78 million over five years the day before, I would've showed up to play.

Looking forward to the next couple weeks being light with the holidays. Playtime! But now, it's bedtime. Up early for Rocky's. Hope I'm not too jacked in the back.

2010-11-15T11:54:00.001-08:00

Waiting for the official west side report. Things look glassy, uncrowded and getting better as tide drops.

14 Nov 2010, Session 93: All Day Sunshine

2010-11-14T19:31:00.000-08:00

Want to say "gorgeous day" but really doesn't cover it. Anyway, silky, glassy water, mellow rolling waves, warm, 70's. Spent the day in the ocean, did a little work. Exhausted. Gotta be at Rocky's at 6 a.m. SST (sleepy standard time). Had another one of those really cool waves where the water is so clear you see all the fish going in different directions as you fly down the line. Surfed with Zeez. Been a while!

Skins v Eagles, Monday Night Football manana. Good night and good gravy <- that's my Thanksgiving spirit. Ok, I'm a helmet.

13 Nov 2010, Session 92: Knocked in the Knees

2010-11-13T16:48:00.000-08:00

Worked out at Rocky's earrrrly this am and almost puked. Gorgeous out. Spent all afternoon in water with peeps and had an amazing sesh. Joel was so stoked for me. Caught some rad set waves.

Meanwhile I am so sore and exhausted... in that good way. However, a guy dropped in on me today so closely that the nose of my board was right over his tail. He never bothered to see if anyone was coming and I even tried to let him know I was on it. He kept going. So, due to PMS, instead of bailing off the wave, and because the nose of my board was already above his board, I drove my board into the back of his knees and off he launched. Rule #1 of etiquette: don't drop in on people who have the right of way. And, when they let you know they're there, bail out. Guys with small penises drop in like that.

2010-11-12T19:33:00.001-08:00

Just had one of the bunnies tell me to start drinking again bc it makes me better@ human interaction.

Ouch.

Well, the good thing about NOT wearing beer goggles is that you see people exactly for who they are. Oh well. Now you're voted off the bunny patch.

2010-11-12T17:08:00.000-08:00

No waves to speak of today. I did go workout at Rocky's and am already feeling sore in the shoulders. Rocky has a training facility down the street where he does sport specific workouts for surfers and snowboarders. The guy is legit!

Today is three months since I put Tugboat down and my neighbor has a license plate holder that says, "Sit on a happy face." Good advice.

7 Nov 2010: There's Snow in Hope Valley

2010-11-11T20:48:00.000-08:00

I never found the companion that was so companionable as solitude. We are for the most part more lonely when we go abroad among men than when we stay in our chambers.

~Henry David Thoreau, "Solitude," Walden, 1854

I'm sitting in a log cabin with Budgie. We're in the High Sierra, north of Yosemite, not quite to Tahoe. It's called Hope Valley. It's the first major snow of the year, Tioga pass (the quickest way West over the Sierra Nevada) in Yosemite is closed. We had to come up 88. It was the only pass over the mountains left open. We've stopped at an awesome place called Sorensen's Resort. Miles and miles of trails for x-country skiing, snowshoeing, sledding, etc in winter, fishing, biking, hiking in summer. It was built in the 1880's as a stop for sheep farmers making that treacherous trek up the Sierra in the Spring to let their flocks graze. Of course, because of the age and isolation of the place, I think it's haunted.

I ordered dinner from the main cabin and thought I'd be waiting around there for my food so I could slosh it back in the sleeting snow, but the awesome, hospitable people there said they'd deliver it when it's ready. Didn't want to leave Budgie alone for too long. It's our first road trip that's just me and her. It's my first one without the Aloe Man in twelve years. I keep thinking how much he would love these trails, the snow, sticking his nose out the window to catch a whiff of something new while we wind our way through these slick and strange roads; neither of us with a destination in mind. Just hit the gas and go with my Boy Dog.

My dinner is the seafood pasta (pictured above), with blackberry cobbler from blackberries picked in this little canyon meadow. They just brought it to me. I'm reading the sign on my tiny kitchen table about leaving leftovers out of the fridge. I guess it's not too hard for bears to climb through these crickety old windows sometimes. My food is a definite F.O. and all locally sourced.

Been thinking a lot about what my ideal life would look like... not that I'm not very blessed to live the life I currently do. But what would be my ultimate ideal. Well, for starters, I'd be sharing this meal-snowstorm-adventure-cozy cabin-and-natural hot spring outside with someone (no bunnies. not a bunny place) irresistible, kind, funny, and smart. Then, we'd move from in here to in front of the fireplace. That's not my "long term" ideal. That's my "tonight" ideal.

Budgie in front of the fire after a romp in the snow

Trusty Trashfinder. I moved it into the sun to help melt the skin of ice.

In my ideal life I'd wake up tomorrow and not have an inbox full emails to determine my day. Instead, I'd leisurely read the paper, front to back. Kick start my brain with the crossword and then spend 4-5 hours writing. All those stories and screenplays would come alive again. I'd be fit like I used to be. I'd be overlooking an ocean with enough money to start my own ocean advocacy non-profit and/or lobbying firm... or at least be able to donate substantially to a cause I strongly support. Most likely to do with animals, the environment and human rights. I think those are all tied together like falling dominoes. In some countries more than others. I'd have a couple hours left in the day to read things that make me think. I'd surf. I'd have enough money to give my mom whatever she wants. I'd keep wandering without predetermined destinations. But, most of all, I'd have time to write. Write people's stories. The small histories that make the big pictures. Not white papers or web content or scripts to sell the masses what they don't need and can't afford anyway. I'd definitely have a bio-diesel burning truck. I wish I could afford something more environmentally friendly than the Trashfinder, but I don't drive it much here. I do love that truck. I know two things for sure: I love my dogs and I love my truck. I guess there's a third and it's that I sound like a country song.

Maybe now and again in my ideal life I'd have nice times with someone I trust, who is straightforward, honors their word and commitments, sexy as hell, spontaneous, thirst for adventure, and learning. Not a partner necessarily and not someone who's scared to be alone so they suffocate you into shacking up and playing house. I guess I want a playmate (the innocent kind) that compliments me as I compliment them. Someone who can teach me new things. Someone with whom I can share my passions. Someone who doesn't mind experiencing life on life's terms- sober and present. Someone who knows what they want and takes action in their lives. Someone who has work ethic and is respectful to their parents.

My ideal life would have less beer, although I'd still keep partying and meeting friends for happy hour-- I still do those things. I just wouldn't feel like shit in the morning. I think all these things will fall into play by directing my energy into what makes me feel alive. When I was a kid I'd sit alone in my room for hours teaching myself to play the guitar. Those are some of my best memories. I don't play much anymore. All the music went out of me. I love how five hours could fly by just fumbling around on the fret board or being wrapped up in writing a story.

I've come a long way in making my life autonomous but we all still gotta answer to something. I have no complaints, but I know if I don't try harder to turn this ship towards my ideal life, I'll have regrets. Even if I fail, that's ok. I've failed a lot. I need to try harder and keep de-cluttering all the physical and psychological dead weight that lingers like bar smoke.

Here's more pics of me and Budgie's excellent High Sierra adventure.

11 Nov 2010, Session 91: New Wetsuit!

2010-11-11T18:42:00.000-08:00

So stoked. Been nine days since I've been in the water and my shitty attitude can testify to that. The weather has been exceptionally cold and windy. My old wetsuit has seams headed in opposite directions. So, decided it was time to make an investment in a quality, thicker wetsuit, squid lid and new booties. I don't wear booties much but if it is going to be an El Nina winter, I'd rather not be the ice cube in the saltwater cocktail.

Wayner hooked it up at Freeline today. Got the Excel Infiniti with the new bamboo lining, same brand of 5mm booties, mysterioso leggings, and a squid lid. Went out for a gorgeous sunset sesh that had the sky and glassy water orange, then purple. I was thinking that if I live to get old, I don't ever want to forget these sunsets spent sitting in the ocean.

I have some stuff I wrote on actual paper, with pen, that I need to input here. It's from when Budgie and I were in the Sierra snowstorm. But first, there's finally a Pho place that's actually decent and knows how to do the egg in the broth that I like. Must go get.

PS- Thinking about giving in and getting Kindle. I love everything about books- the weight, the smell, the tactile sensations, dog-eared pages of my favorite passages.... but I also love trees. Hmph.

6 Nov 2010: Over the hills

2010-11-10T11:58:00.000-08:00

Today we climbed to 9500 feet in the Trashfinder. Budgie and I started up the coast but the weather is kinda caca so we pointed East. Through the Stanislaus Forest into Yosemite. It was getting late when we got there, about 5.30pm. Tioga pass wasn't closed but the sun was beginning to set and I really had no idea what our next step was going to be. The weather was good going through in the beginning and I watched the most beautiful sunset I can recall. I have a fear of heights so driving on those windy roads at that elevation, with the sun and temperature dropping (got to freezing by the end with road side signs posted "ice"). Started sleeting. Said a couple prayers to anyone listening and really felt my boy's absence... and then presence. Traveling with Budgie is so different. Sounds lame, but with Tugboat I felt like I had a companion. I'd talk to him the whole way. Budgie seems kinda freaked by it all. She's very quiet and good. Sometimes I forget she's there. We're in some podunk mountain town motel room. She's napping . She's a good girl. Tries so hard to please.

I saw the most beautiful doe during the sunset. Most of all, for the past eight hours, when I've not been praying in the blinding dark to be spared an icy slip down thousands of feet of crevasse, I've been thinking about what my life would ideally be like, say a year from now. In that vision, I'm still alone. It hit me today that when my dad finally came to California the last year of his life, he died here alone, in a hotel room. I'm not trying to be morbid and I'm not suicidal by any means... I'm a selfish fucker, but not that selfish and I enjoy my life... so get that out of your head. But, the parallel dawned on me for sure. Who knows how things change or who you'll meet, but I'm 37. Almost 40. I've never been capable of keeping a relationship together even if I wanted it. I think I'm one of those people like George Clooney in Up in the Air. I've never felt such a connection to a fictional character before.

Anyway, so, I'm glad I at least got to see the Yosemite sunset.... the rest was pitch black. It's starting to rain and that will mean snow in the upper elevations. I want to go back the way I came to see what I missed while I was shitting bricks, white knuckling the wheel trying to get over. Everything was gorgeous before it got dark. There's parts of me that wish I had someone to share it with who was more than just a friend, but sometimes you just gotta go and see it for yourself. That person is probably on the other side of the mountain.

2010-11-06T21:21:00.000-07:00

We watched the most amazing sunset in Yosemite. Amazing is such a lame word to describe it. Man.

Anyway, check that off the list. I miss the ocean. Up at the crack of ass and back to my coast.

2010-11-06T13:23:00.001-07:00

Rain. Budgie and I are moving east into sierras.

2010-11-06T00:05:00.001-07:00

Budgie and I headed up to Mendocino tomorrow. Need to unplug, disconnect, detach in every way. Want some space to read, write, walk around somewhere foreign. Haven't been to Mendocino since I was 15. Every time I smell patchouli I think of Mendocino.

some shots

2010-11-04T08:34:00.000-07:00

2 Nov 2010, Session 90: Remembering

2010-11-02T16:42:00.000-07:00

Well, I survived the crazy swell for today. Went to the West side. It is almost 80, sunny and everybody is stoked. I wonder what the swell has done to the voter turnout.

I was scared going in but tried to stay very aware of everything breaking everywhere. Bodies zipping down the line and bodies separated from their boards and catapulted in all directions.

I've stopped drinking for a while. Things seem to be surfacing and I see and feel them with great clarity. I guess a lot of unresolved things that a few apres-surf- beers-a-night seemed to numb. Wayner asked me if I was feeling sad since I stopped drinking. He stopped drinking almost 30 years ago. At first, I thought I was just bummed about Tami's charades and lies. I told him no. I wasn't really sad. Then yesterday (keep in mind I don't have PMS right now) I felt like I was carrying the world's biggest water balloon of sadness inside of me that was going to rupture spontaneously. I just bawled and bawled and bawled til my little slanty eyes were red and swollen. I miss my boy. I am so lonely without him. And I guess it's good for me to finally know and accept the person I built my world and life around was just a lie. It was all a lie.

I pulled myself together and went to watch the Giants win the World Series with my peeps. Funny how some sort of switch has flipped. I have no desire to drink at all. Not a glass of wine. Not a beer sweaty with frost. Not a vodka shot with a fun name. I just want to be a fully present participant in my life. It's the only way I'm going to achieve what I want.

Anyway, I got home from surfing today. Sat down to start working again and realized today is 12 years since my dad died. Twelve years. Wow. Glad I didn't drown today. It would've made my mom really upset.

PS. I changed at the car on my way home from my sesh. Pulled my clamdiggers outta my bag, put em on, loaded up, headed home. Then, ouch! I feel an acute pinch right in my buttcrack. Then another. So, I reach in there and pull out a half-mushed spider. Gross. I feel bad for killing the spider but considering he was planning on spending the day in my ass, it's probably for the better.

2010-11-01T18:34:00.001-07:00

Sick, sick swell coming in tomorrow late morning. Need to get up early and get work squared. Gonna be epic @the house. Will take Shit (8'6 beater board) out so I can abandon it if I get into something gnarly.

GO GIANTS!

2010-11-01T17:11:00.001-07:00

Fuck the women, I just want my boy dog back.

2010-10-31T16:39:00.001-07:00

Morning sesh: rip currents. PM sesh: rocks. Bloody feet and bruised knees but some fun waves. Off to watch the Giants. Joel has become my saltwater buddha.

2010-10-31T14:42:00.001-07:00

From phone. Seshes 88&89. Manresa- got clobbered on the bonzer but super fun. Heading back to 38th w the longboard. Happy halloween!

29 Oct 2010, Session 87: Adrift at Sea

2010-10-30T10:18:00.000-07:00

Another storm WNW swell came in throbbing yesterday. Took the 6'5 out and got it handed to me. There was water moving fast everywhere. Started pouring rain last night. Joel and I went to Mobo sushi and then the Crepe Place where we walked into a masquerade party wearing no masks. The thing about being sober is that it's evident right away when bands suck.

Anyhow, torrentially poured through the night and it hasn't let up. There's a SE wind blowing that *might* make for some fun storm surfing. Which board to take? Want to take the shortboard but getting tossed around so hard on something little is a good workout... but exhausting and frightening at times. Too much board and I feel tied to a missile. Hmmm.

Honestly, I wish I had the newspaper and some coffee on a morning like this.

Later today we're headed up to the Mission in the city to watch the Giants play Texas at Kilowatt. Kinda my new favorite bar. We'll see how I like it stone cold sober.

2010-10-30T07:50:00.001-07:00

It's so sickening to realize the person you spent all those years in love with never existed. Every intimate thing shared was a falsehood and fluff. She was just passing the time; looking for the next rung on the ladder.Disheartening. Disappointing. I guess that's why I'm here.

2010-10-29T10:25:00.001-07:00

Holy northwest swell. Meeting bonnie on west side & rocking the campbell bros 6'5 bonzer board. Maiden voyage. Pray i don't get sucked 2sea on this wee thing

2010-10-29T10:02:00.001-07:00

Got the call that there's some swell in only have a small window before tide gets too high.

2010-10-28T10:39:00.003-07:00

The Kona beans Bonnie got me for my birthday are cocked diesel.

2010-10-27T16:01:00.001-07:00

If I were friends with Mary J Blige and Oprah, nobody would steal my lunch money.

26 Oct 2010, Session 86: Current Events

2010-10-26T20:27:00.000-07:00

I swear, all the hotties... ok, not all the hotties are on the West side, but enough to take notice. Although, there are hotties on the East side, where I live, but I think maybe people are more mellow on that side; at least at Cowell's because it's a very forgiving break. Not everyone is so serious. The chicks definitely smile waaaay more and chat you up over there. Maybe it's because the university is on that side of town. It's definitely a bit more competitive and serious over here when it comes to surfing. Or hooking up. Or driving. Who knows.

Anyway, the storm swell and drastic tides were still in today. Noon was close to 6 feet. So, I worked and waited. Kept watch on the water and Bonnie and I texted reports back and forth. Bonnie and Jimmy live on the West side. By 2.30 it still looked sketchy out here. Current still strong with disorganized, sloppy waves. Low tide wasn't until seven so I didn't feel like another cliff or staircase scramble. A nice beach break it would be. I headed over to the West side and met Bonnie and Jimmy in the water.

The current was still strong over there. I felt like I was paddling in place just to get into the line up. Serious bicep and back burner. A couple clean sets came through and we decided to paddle up to Indicators. It's the break between Cowells (mellow, easy peasy) and Steamer Lane (gnarly, get religion fast). The wind started picking up, the current didn't relent and next thing you know we're out more in the open ocean with victory at sea. The good news is that it was a gorgeous, sunny day. Nothing was rideable in the choppy mess. I huff, puffed and paddled my ass back to Cowells figuring I'd catch a few inside and head home. Once I got back closer in from the open ocean, everything mellowed and glassed. You couldn't ask for better conditions. Jimmy had to go in for a work thing but Bonnie and I surfed until we couldn't see. We watched the purple sunset over the wharf while catching wave after wave. I can already feel my shoulders and traps stiffening. Just amazing. Was thinking about my really good friend, David, while I was out there. He just found out his dad is very ill and only has about six months to live. David's dad, Paul, is not an old man; only 68. Such a sweet man. I watched that gorgeous sunset and said a prayer for him. I want him to see sunsets like that. I never want to take those sunsets for granted. We paddled and surfed non-stop for almost four hours. Sweet dreams.

23 Oct 2010, Session 85: Shortcuts, like crime, don't pay

2010-10-25T16:53:00.000-07:00

It's Monday. The Skins beat the Bears. The Giants are going to the World Series. We got five inches of rain this weekend and my parched and straw-colored lawn now has a healthy green sense of hope.

Let's talk about Saturday. Rain on the menu all weekend which makes the ocean into an interesting playing field. Let me first say that I had death cramps from hell. The kind that make you self-aware enough to not socialize for fear of dismembering someone who even accidentally looks in your direction. I was on the fence about getting in the water. Felt like shit and also felt like sucker-punching the next person I saw for no reason.

The Meyerhoffer was still on the deck from the day before so off with it I went in the light rain. I went to my little spot. Joel went off into the pack. I purposely surfed solitaire because I wanted to be by myself; not make pleasantries and not do anything requiring community service should anyone accidentally (or intentionally) cut me off or drop in. The waves were super mushy rollers. Totally wrong board for that kind of wave. Needed my Tugboat board for better glide. Couldn't catch a damn thing and then when I did, I was doing the dumbest shit. Pearling, waiting too long to pop up. It was literally like I left my brain on the beach. A good lesson re-learned, though, is that when you have a really gnarly wipeout always come up with your hands over your head. On one wave where I was doing somersaults underwater for what felt like an oxygen-deprived extended period of time, I surfaced but still didn't feel my leash tug around my ankle letting me know it landed and is still attached. I assumed my leash broke, I was about to go for a long swim, or the board was still airborn. I came up with my hands over my head and then I got the feeling of a stake driving into the top of my right hand from my big fin. Better than my melon. It's all black, blue and swollen but whatever. At least the water was cold to keep the swelling down until I got home. The rain starts coming down harder, the wind kicks up and the current starts getting a little more muscle. Joel goes back home. I decided to stay in because I was frustrated with myself.

This kid, about 12, and his dad paddle right up into my spot, basically assuming first place in my private line up.

Apparently the kid was in daddy attention depletion. He yelped non-stopped for his father's acknowledgment. "Hey, dad, guess what? Blah blah blah." "Hey, dad! Should I do this? Should I do that?" "Hey dad! Hey dad! You're not listening. Hey, dad! Watch, watch, watch. Dad, you're not watching!"

So I paddled away instead of ramming my board into his mouth so I didn't have to listen to his crackling, pre-pubescent Peter Brady voice. And then they paddled to where I was sitting again. I couldn't escape. Still, everything I went for resulted in me making fundamental mistakes or the kid dropping in on me. I didn't say anything because I was scared of what would come out of my mouth. The rain was driving, the wind was wailing and the water was rocking and moving aimlessly, causing the waves to pitch and form out of nowhere so nothing was rideable. I wasn't wearing booties and started to get the chills so I decided to paddle my pathetic ass home to a hot shower. We were supposed to meet Wayner, Brandy, Joel, and Terry to watch the Giants win the pennant and move on to the World Series. All I wanted was out of the water and a hot shower.

On the way in a wave picked me up and I tried to stand but just... couldn't. It's like if you went to get out of your chair and all of a sudden you didn't know how to walk. I actually stopped and sat there, perplexed at the complete disconnect and lack of second nature in any of my actions. Getting out when the water is being tumultuous will make your ass tight. I paddled harder to avoid being pounded by these random waves appearing out of nowhere, hoping to make it shore before another jumbled set came crashing. A last wave picked me up and I decided to pop up again. Once I did, I realized I popped up goofy foot: my right foot forward. It took me a second to realize what I'd done. I know better than to hop off in shallow water like I know what's underneath. My bare foot hit the edge of the reef, I twist my ankle, fall, nail my knee, and get my foot lodged in the rocks. I could feel the heat of my own frustration broiling me in my wetsuit.

Now, I paddled into the cove because - usually- it's the quickest exit. There's a little, steep billy goat trail that goes right up the cliffs to my street. About 70 yards south are some staircases the county just built to help surfers, but mostly low tide beach goers, enter and exit safely. I hardly ever use them unless I ride a wave in that dumps me right there. Why would I all of a sudden starting using scruples trying to get home? A smart person would've considered the conditions and taken the stairs. A baboon would've taken the stairs. One of those Jersey Shore people would've taken the stairs. Apparently I had a lobotomy earlier in the day and didn't even think about how difficult it might be to go barefoot up a billy goat trail that morphed into a mudslide because five inches of rain were barreling down, all the while carrying a 9'2 longboard. Up I clambered, down I slid, dinging my elbows, knees and board. I dug in with my fingertips and toes, launched my board onto the succulent vegetation that sprouts sideways off the rocks, hoping they'd offer some sort of traction to hold the board. Somehow, mudsoaked, I made it up and was able to drag the board by the big fin to the top, slipping and sliding with every step. I might as well have been free-climbing an ice mountain. I sat down at the top of the cliff, in my muddy wet suit in the monsoon rain, and decided just to laugh. I also ripped my right pinky toenail off trying to koala claw my way up the cliff.

I walk home like a mud monster and the rain washed most of it off. I get to the drive and there's Joel, with his camera."Where the hell have you been? I meant to paddle over and tell you to probably take the stairs." Thanks. Well, at least the vanity of my youth has faded as evidenced by the fact that I'm even posting these fugly-ass pictures (edited for obscene gestures).

The moral of the story is:

You pay for taking shortcuts
Keep your hands over your head if the sky is falling
Always have an exit strategy

Today the sun is shining but the storm swell is stronger than ever. We keep checking it but it's still looking strong and disorganized. Joel went in at First Peak and got out right away because of the current. If a 6'2, 200lb guy says that, I think I'll wait. He was visibly unnerved by the current which I've never seen.

P.S. According to Facebook, I like 122 things including Kat Von D and The Muppets.

P.P.S. The Trashfinder is winterized for Tahoe! New brakes and belts. Coming up, the next time a client decides to pay me, will be new tires. Went to Mick's Automotive. The hands-down most honest and awesome auto guys I've ever encountered. Check out their Yelp reviews if you don't believe me. But save your time and go ahead and believe me.

Session 84, 22 Oct 2010: Otters, Otters Everywhere

2010-10-22T17:28:00.000-07:00

Went back out this afternoon with Dustin. He's a bartender at The Point Chophouse and Brewery, around the corner from the house, where we watch most of our games. Really nice, hardworking kid. He's lived in Santa Cruz his whole life and never surfed. Wayner hooked him up with a board and suit at Freeline. It's fog and rain this afternoon. Sometimes that makes for a fun sesh. The waves were glassy rollers and not too crowded. And like the title of this post promises, there were otters everywhere. At one point I rode past a big ball of at least five of them. Waxfoot Mike was yelling it was an otter orgy. It looked more like a fight. They are so cute. I thought about how I haven't seen my Tugboat seal in a while but I guess with the white sharks migrating they're laying low. I miss my boy deeply everyday. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and try to remember all bits of him, his orange feet that looked like Grover hands, the way he smacked his chops, his happy sea otter face in the mornings. I've never missed anything or anyone in my entire life like I miss him.

Anyway, took the Meyerhoffer out and definitely felt the difference in not riding it for a while. Not bad or good. Just feels different like a rental car. Dustin did really well. He said for as long as he's lived by the ocean he never realized how much peace comes from really immersing yourself in it. Saw a lot of peeps out in the lineup. Everyone was being mellow and entertained by the marine life letting us encroach on them. Some beautiful birds whose name I don't know, except pelican. With rain pouring, everything fogged over and hazed in steel gray, it's definitely harder to recognize waves forming on the horizon. Add the glassiness to the water and they roll right up on you. We stayed out for about two hours and as we decided to paddle in, a wave came up on Dustin. He caught it and... and... I was cheering for him and.. up! He rode it in! I was so stoked. It is so cool to see someone catch their first wave. He was ear to ear beaming; could've cut through the fog.

By the way, as we were leaving the lineup, I caught a couple waves with an older woman who is exactly how I want to be when I get up there. She must've been in her 60's but was gorgeous in that sage way. She had so much grace and the lines on her face weren't an aging defect. You can tell she's laughed a lot and lived a zesty life. We talked a bit about the Meyerhoffer when we got back to the beach. She's the kind of person where you want to make hot chocolate by a fire and listen to her stories.

Wayner just texted and said Dustin returned his board and suit and was stoked out of his gourd. So cool. I made the most awesome seaweed and oxtail soup, so on this cold, rainy, foggy Friday I shall partake and catch up on my reading. Big weekend ahead. Aloha!

Session 83, 22 Oct 2010:Deal breakers

2010-10-22T13:08:00.000-07:00

Got skunked early this am trying for a full moonset sesh. Going out again in a couple hours. Kinda foggy out now. In the meantime, lately we've been having a lot of discussion of what people's deal breakers are when it comes to relationships, dating or meaningful three-hour relationships in the dark. I'm finding that younger ones (under 30) understand, agree and mean it when the 'no commitment' clause is put on the table. They find pleasure in the stasis of disaffection. I think it's from growing up with so many impersonal modes of communication. Who knows. Ones my age and older say they understand, agree and mean it when the 'no commitment' clause is put on the table. And then, next thing you know, they are on you like crazy on Christine O'Donnell.

I digress. I was talking about deal breakers. Everybody's got 'em, even if they feel superficial admitting it. A friend of mine met a really cool girl but is having a hard time making himself feel physically attracted to her. He's beating himself up over it; feeling like a bad person. Here's the thing, if the spark isn't there, it isn't there. Your brain is the biggest sex organ there is. You know what you like, you know what you don't like. And sometimes, even when it seems shallow and you wish you could make yourself be into someone more than you are physically and/or emotionally, it's just not going to happen.

So here's my acid-burningly honest list of deal breakers. Now, don't think I don't know that just about everything about my own person is a deal breaker to the majority of the population. In no particular order:

Cigarettes. Actually, this is a #1 dealbreaker. Nothing worse than seeing someone totally hot, you work up the courage to even approach and they bust out a cigarette. Disgusting. Cigarettes = bad hygiene and disease. Occasional pass when completely wasted. Remember, this is subjective. I'm not writing this while thinking I walk on water.

Bad hygiene. Take care of your business.

Bear paw. See "bad hygiene"

Racism/homophobia/overall inbred behavior. Not every Hispanic person is from Mexico and not every Asian person is from China. Unless you can find "oriental" on the map, shut up. A lot of people are a mixture of everything these days so avoid foot-in-mouth, keep your ignorance to yourself and mind your own business.

Ending sentences with a preposition. "Where you at?" "Not in your bed."

Overuse of punctuation marks, all caps and internet acronyms. There is pretty much no cause to ever use more than one exclamation point or question mark. No one gets that excited or is that curious/clueless. A worse combo is all caps with multiple exclamations or question marks. The worst offenders of all: LOL!!!, LMAO!!!, ROFL!!!! WTF?!?!?! First, when you say 'lol' all the time, you come off as fake. No one is sitting around laughing out loud at everything I say; or in their cube, on the floor, rolling around giggling. Maybe a chuckle. A 'ha ha' will suffice. An LOL now and then. When it's your knee-jerk response... yawn.

Bad tattoos. Again, this is subjective because I know my tattoos might be a deal breaker to others, or even the fact that I have them is a deal breaker. Regardless, you've got 'em, you're stuck with 'em. As a friend of mine pointed out when I absolutely couldn't continue seeing someone because of the atom bomb of bad tattoos (Disney characters), you should first hear that person's story behind the ink. Maybe it will actually endear them more to you. Unfortunately, I guess I was supposed to find the Minnie Mouse and Tinkerbell tattoo tragedies hot. Oh well, c'est la vie.

Disrespect for elders and parents, especially mine.

People who defend Michael Vick.

Laziness/no work ethic

Adults who still play the victim roles and blame everyone but themselves for their situations.

People who disrespect the Earth and harm its creatures

Oh, last one, anyone who can't accept that Chris Cooley is my Sunday huzzzzbun and the best tight end in the NFL. Wait, and one more: bad kisser. If someone is a bad kisser you're in for quick bed death if you go any further. If I want my face slobbered on I'll get a Saint Bernard. Time to surf again! Aloha!

2010-10-15T15:20:00.001-07:00

Please stop saying "irregardless." It's not a word.

Comcast SUCKS

2010-10-15T09:26:00.000-07:00

This has nothing to do with surfing but everything to do with how bad comcast sucks. This is the abbreviated version:

So, Monday, the picture is scrambled. I call. they try to send remote signal to the digital box after being on hold forever. Signal doesn't work. They tell me the box is damaged. They give me an address to take the box to and get a new one and say I'll be credited for the time the service has been out.

Yesterday afternoon was the first chance I've had to run across town to do this. Get there and..... oh, they're no longer there. They've moved to another CITY. On the way home, while sitting in traffic, I call their "customer service" number who says the wait time is long and to enter my number and they'll call back. I do that. My cell has a Metro DC area code. So, they call me back, I go through the rigmarole of giving them all this information... which it seems each rep requires something different. Of the 8 I've spoken with over the past few days, some some will take your phone number, some say last four of social only, some say they won't help at all unless you have the full account number on hand, some can do it with address alone. Anyway, they call me back and say my account doesn't exist. After convincing them it does exist, they say, "oooooooh, duh. You got routed to an East Coast facility because your cell number is 703." Really, Comcast? I think a good chunk of the population is mobile and geographically dispersed. You'd think they'd have smarter infrastructure in place. Nope.

So, they give me another number to call, hold, give random personal info. They schedule a rep to come out this morning between 7.30-8am. If you do have Comcast and listen to their spiels while selecting your OnDemand shows, they say if you don't get good customer service or a tech fails to or is late or just doesn't show up, they credit your account. They make it right. They actually are helpful. WRONG.

I scheduled my meetings this morning around this person coming just to deliver a new box. They said he'd call when enroute. Well, the time period comes and goes. No Comcast person. No call. I get on my conference call and midway through, 45 minutes after he was supposed to arrive, some dude is at my door. I hand him the cable box and remote and said, "I'm done with Comcast." Now, I've spent all morning on the phone with them.... transfer you here, transfer you there, try to get you buy some Encore package. Just FUCKING CANCEL ME.

Now they keep calling me and asking me to take a survey about my customer service experience at http://www.mycomcastsurvey.com

IDIOTS. Whoever they're using to outsource their business process services SUCKS.

Update: Check out this awesome article from the San Francisco Bay Guardian on Why Comcast Sucks

14 oct 2010, session 82: lunch

2010-10-15T08:52:00.000-07:00

ran out for a lunchtime quickie at the Dirt Farm before the fog rolled in and the tide got too high. by the way comcast sucks.

12 Oct 2010, Session 81: Dharma

2010-10-13T22:15:00.000-07:00

So going to make this quick although I do need to elaborate and post some stuff. Just want to jot some thoughts down.

Yesterday am went out in some mellow morning waves and mostly surfed the lefts in front of Jack's house. A beautiful way to begin the day. Sat in the water thinking that if I were in Washington I'd be in traffic, in a cube or staring at some cookie cutter house across the street from my home office.

Worked a bit and then Joel and I headed over the hill. He snagged tickets months ago to hear the Dalai Lama teach. The guy is jolly and his followers are fascinating to watch. I have a hard time deifying any human... whether the pope or the dalai lama, a famous televangelist or some other human-appointed saint. After all, the Dalai Lama encourages everyone to think for themselves and come to their own conclusion. He refers to himself as but humble, simple monk. I don't want to downplay the amazing experience it was to be in the presence of someone so sage, centered and spiritual. He kinda had an Elvis effect on some people.

Ran with Budgie this morning and actually didn't hurt too bad. Heart feels healthy. My eyelids are heavy. Didn't get a chance to surf. Too much work and Joel almost talked me into going out around 5; the fog was so thick. I almost did but decided to be a responsible adult. Make some money in the cold fog so I can surf some warm crystal waters in the Caribbean. Good night.

PS- Budgie peed in the house for the first time and I got up at 2am to also pee and stepped right in it. The Jeffrey the Cat puked on the bedspread. It was a biohazard kind of day.

7-11 October, 2010, Sessions 78-80: Fall's a ball

2010-10-11T19:05:00.000-07:00

Been slammed with work and traveling about so finally got in the water last Friday for the first time in almost two weeks. Super mellow waves and warm. Same thing on Saturday and then we went to Paxton and Carrie's Canadian Thanksgiving throwdown Sat night. I like Canadian Thanksgiving much better. No stress, no pressure, just elastic pants. I didn't surf Sunday after all the Canadian giving of thanks but my Skins did win and so did the Giants.

A little bit of a bigger day today so for fun I went to Freeline and borrowed the Donald Takayama 6'9. Here it is. I love this board. I keep telling Wayner to convince John to sell it to me. Today Joel and I begin our "Bahamas Beach Body Boot Camp." We're going next month. I should probably lose the beer gut and try to get my upper body even stronger. Beer and everything that tastes delicious is out for the next month.

25-27 Sept 2010, Sessions 75-77: fall down, go boom

2010-09-27T21:46:00.000-07:00

We took Pat out and she rocked it. Hard. Go Pat! We had the Dirt Farm all to ourselves Saturday morning for about 20mins and were able to snag wave after wave on a warm, glassy day.

Joel, Wayner and I went to the Fogbank later that evening. I can't talk about Saturday night because I'm a lady. Zee and Steve were meeting us at 7 a.m. Sunday for a sesh. Just gotta say that I was hurting for certain. No sleep, an energizer bunny, lots of disco dancing, flowing spirits, and a high tide makes a girl a little seasick the next day. Caught a few fun waves but didn't stay out long because Joel and I both thought we might hurl. Came home, crashed hard and woke up to the second half of the Skins getting stomped by the Rams. The Rams?! Ugh.

We got the next three DVD's of our Deadwood episodes in. We decided to play a drinking game that consists of every time someone on Deadwood says "cocksucker" you have to drink. We ended up drinking 17 beers. Then, Boardwalk Empire came on and it turns out you can play it with that show, too.

Big swell in today and everybody is stoked. Here is a little video from today. It's got a funny wipeout at the end. Took some gnarly smackdowns and now my back is as stiff as Dick Cheney.

24 Sept 2010, Session 74: Soft top

2010-09-25T07:53:00.000-07:00

Summer is here in Santa Cruz. In the 80's and fog is nowhere to be found. Wayner hooked me up with a soft top to teach Gina to surf for the weekend. Took her to Capitola where we waited for the tide to drop and get her some mellow ankle slappers. She caught two waves and popped up on her own. Pretty impressive.

My elementary school friend from when lived in Korea, Pat, came down with her friend, Alex. He's from London but actually went to GW in DC. Joel grilled awesome petite filet, kale salad with golden beets, sweet garlic and tomatoes from our garden, chicken kabobs and grilled figs. Amazing. Took a few bottles of wine down to the water where this full moon has everything lit up. We're going to make Pat and Alex surf this morning. I'd say Gina will surf with us but she's mad at me for not calling back fast enough. I swear, I have no patience with these chicks out here anymore. Just burning through them and starting to realize I have no desire to be mired in a relationship. No matter what kind of boundaries you set or how honest you are, you start getting backed into that corner. I like being a bachelorette. Joel and I made a pact: bro's before ho's. Now I'm just turning into a pig. I just want my freedom and to never compromise my life for someone. Maybe I'm just a selfish asshole. Or maybe, I finally got smart. Either way, my friends rule and this weekend is awesome. Bonnie coming over to surf and we're all heading out. We joked yesterday about how we think the Santa Cruz Surfline people are giving less than stellar reports to keep people from coming onto the neighborhood waves. I just noticed it said "poor" but I can hear the sets going off from my bedroom.

2010-09-25T07:05:00.001-07:00

Are there any women left in the world who don't turn into satan once you add alcohol.

23 Sept 2010, Session 73

2010-09-24T13:01:00.001-07:00

Coming from my phone. Good dawn patrol sesh yesterday @dirt farm with Joel and John. dinner @gather in berkeley. The wild boar was the most amazing thing ever. Taking Gina out for a sesh today.

22 Sept 2010, Session 72: Welcome Home

2010-09-22T22:15:00.000-07:00

Fun, mellow sesh at Dirt Farm today. Very tired. More tomorrow. Had a great, millisecond visit home with good friends.

Dawn patrol in am.

16 Sept 2010, Session 71

2010-09-17T07:13:00.000-07:00

Went back out again last night with John and Joel. Korean food was deelish. We started watching Deadwood from the beginning again. The writing on that show is Shakespearean (if Shakespeare wrote 'cocksucker' a lot). Back is jacked. Lots to do today before I leave.

16 Sept 2010, Session 70: Nuke It!

2010-09-16T16:24:00.000-07:00

Joel just popped over and said the surf shack is starting to look like a real home. Why? Because after over a year without one of the most common kitchen appliances of our time, I decided to break down and buy a microwave.

The story goes like this: I was supposed to make kimchi, Korean eggs, seaweed and rice with barley last night. Instead I got peer-pressured into Pink Godzilla sushi. Korean eggs are my equivalent of mac-n-cheese; comfort food. Unfortunately, I lost my little broiler thing a couple girls ago that I used to make them in. Then I started making them in the microwave... not as good but still damn f-wording good. Then, I sold everything I owned and shunned the modern day conveniences of TV (broke down and bought one a couple months ago) and microwave (broke down and bought one from a nice little latina lesbian saleslady at Sears today). For the past year and a half I've been making my Korean eggs in my clay bibimbap bowls on the stove. Meh. Two things... the heat doesn't doesn't distribute well so it cooks unevenly. Second, because it doesn't cook evenly, I have to stir which ruins my pretty food porn presentation of the toasted sesame seeds and chopped green onions on top.

The recipe:

Psyche. Not giving any sucka MC's my recipe. Anyway, that's what's for dinner tonight.

On to other things. The waves are back in full effect and I've been surfing me arse off to make up for the fact that I'm going to spend the weekend wave-less in Washington. It's supposed to get reeeealllly good this weekend. Oh well. I get to see some awesome peeps and see my Skins take another Texas team down.

Up at the crack of ass this morning. Joel and I paddled over to Second Peak from the Dirt Farm and must admit that I'm feeling more and more fit. Waves were breaking all the way from DF, thru Inbetweeners to the Point. The sun was screaming in my face by dawn and all my suits were wet so I went ahead and decided to mermaid it. Put on my new Athleta swim shorts (I wish they made board shorts or solid-colored women's swim trunks that you can tighten or hook to rashguard), my mysterioso fleece and quicksilver rash guard over that. Surfed with Joel and John. They were both convinced I'd die of hypothermia but the water was actually pretty nice. Now I have to go because Joel just called and said Second Peak is working really well right now. Gotta go get that second sesh. But real quick, had a great wave that was ruined by three guys on soft tops who must've been having their first session. I caught the wave, popped up right away, trim, came down to bottom turn and they sat there like dorks in headlights, not moving and freaking out. They abandoned their boards as I was coming at them leaving launched missiles coming my way. I kicked out. The thing is, I didn't even do my death stare, which is strange considering I'm in the height of PMS. Oh well. There's always another wave. Ok, gotta go!

15 Sept 2010, Session 69: Glassy

2010-09-15T16:22:00.000-07:00

The swell is slowly rolling in. Had fun surfing Dirt Farm with Bill and Wayner. Really feeling the new board now... Bill and Wayner love to wave block for me and Frankie. Guys are so funny and this girl is so tired.

Summer has finally arrived in Santa Cruz. Making Korean eggs, kimchi and seaweed for our dinner tonite. A delicious, stinking pot of joy.

14 Sept, 2010, Session 68: Double Dipping

2010-09-14T21:40:00.000-07:00

Took Budge for a walk after work while the red beans and rice were simmering on the stove. Well.... these sets started rolling in. All of a sudden people were running into the water like it was a Macy's sale at 5am the day after Thanksgiving.

I actually did the paddle from Dirt Farm to Second Peak. Surfed with Tim, Joel, and Neil. Second Peak is definitely a bigger wave and as usal, Joel ran block for me to get the set wave and as he said, "Joel's surf boot camp has paid off and you've made me proud." The set wave was so damn big but when you have that many people at Second Peak screaming for you... well, you can definitely choke but I really didn't want to. I rode that thing all the way back to shore and grinning like an f-wording clown paddling all the way back in. Just gotta keep pushing into bigger and bigger waves.

I paddled back home the reverse way, 2nd peak to Dirt Farm. My shoulders are screaming. Wayner was at the top of the cliff when I came out. He didn't get back to the Point in time to get the best of the surge. We all came back and snarfed down the whole pot of red beans and rice. We're all going to surf Shark's tomorrow at around 10am if it's happening. I'm a lucky girl who can barely stay awake.

14 Sept, 2010, Session 67: Red Beans and Rice

2010-09-14T17:06:00.000-07:00

That's what's for dinner. Woke up craving it this morning.

So we got up at six for a little dawn patrol up north. Got skunked at Four Mile and Waddell. Went to see our Davenport Ladies at Whale City. Denver omelets, blueberry pancakes and a rush ride home to hop in at the Dirt Farm before it became too obvious that I was blowing off work this morning.

Surfed with Bill, Joel and John. Wetsuit still wet from last night. Nothing like putting on cold, wet neoprene in the chilly fog. The sun did pop out part way through our sesh. The waves were nothing to write home about and it was crowded from everyone having ants in their pants for the past (almost) two weeks with no waves. Here's the great thing about surfing with those guys:

We kinda have an arrangement now for when it's crowded. They get up first and I drop in behind them while they clear the wave. Basically like an offensive line blocking for a runner. Kinda fun. It's good to be a girl.

Stoked to head home for a quick visit this weekend but of course, that's when the good swell is moving in. Oh well.

13 Sept 2010, Session 66: They're back!

2010-09-14T16:58:00.000-07:00

The waves finally limped back in after about nine days of a pulse-less Pacific. Yesterday we went out at sunset... of course, me and 7000 of my closest friends all vying for a wave.

Out near Davenport swear I saw a ginormous-not-dolphin-dorsal past the kelp beds while some pelicans and dolphins were going into a feeding frenzy. Got out. Oh well. And then there's today.....

4 September 2010, Session 65: Four Mile

2010-09-13T12:39:00.000-07:00

My last session was a while ago at Four Mile. Made me arse pucker. Since then it's been flat, flat, flat... so flat no one knows what to do with themselves and bad behavior abounds.

Did you know that in SF strip clubs they get full on naked but don't serve alcohol.

2010-09-10T12:23:00.001-07:00

Never allow someone to be your priority while allowing yourself to be their option.

2 Sept 2010, Session 64:Drop ins

2010-09-03T10:28:00.000-07:00

Went out with Missy in a.m. yesterday and met John out there, too. Not a lot of swell but there were a few piddlers breaking here and there. By the time we surf checked, came back and paddled out, there was a surf school in session at the Dirt Farm. And not a good one. The cheesy one: Club Ed Surf School. The instructor's name is Ed. Clever, right? He's renowned around here for total cheesiness and not teaching his students much of anything except to be a danger to themselves and others in the water. I see it over and over. He looks like that Richard Petty race car driver.

So, we go out there and Ed of Club Ed is out there on a stand up paddle with about seven students in the stew who are completely clueless and that's not their fault. I must've gotten dropped in on at least five times. One chick almost decapitated John by almost dropping in on him. Meanwhile, Ed of Club Ed is on an SUP that he doesn't appear to be able to maneuver well, and in between talking to all the women in the water as 'girls,' he takes all the waves, leaves his students to take poundings in the break and/or flop around like water hazards. Finally he took off on one and I dropped in way down the wave and did not care. It was high tide so things were breaking close to the rocks. He's yelling, "You're pinning me in! You're pinning me in!" He was referring to the fact that I was basically boxing him in to a cove, a cliff and a hard place. Tough shit. I said, "Go teach your students some etiquette before they get us all killed." Fuck knuckle.

In other news, the new hottest bartender in Santa Cruz is Emma at Hula's. She is so hot that Joel and I had to leave. We couldn't take the hotness. We went to 515 where this chick bought me a tequila shot and I don't shoot tequila... but she, too, was hot. Her name is Ashley. Apparently she's a bartender there but had the night off. The most hypnotic blue eyes ever. Oh baby Jesus.

It's foggy and cold this Friday morning. Hope to go out later this afternoon. The O'Neill labor day sale starts today and I need a new full wetsuit. My old one is tearing in all the wrong places. Yay three day weekend!

On a totally random note: I am so worried about those Chilean miners. I would go absolutely insane. I hope they come out of there relatively unscathed and with their wits in tact.

1 Sept 2010, Session 63: flat

2010-09-03T10:10:00.000-07:00

It was damn hot on Wednesday, with no waves to write home (or blog) about, but we wanted to get in the water anyway. We paddled from the Dirt Farm to Second Peak and back for some shoulder burners. Floated around in the water awhile and went home.

Oh well.

31 Aug, 2010, Session 62: A Foggy and Different Point of View

2010-09-01T13:52:00.000-07:00

So, a kinda interesting day. Totally not interested in work. Met Thomas Meyerhoffer, who designed my 9'2 Meyerhoffer. I happened to walk into Freeline and Wayner introduced me to him, telling him Zeez and I bought his boards. Great, personable guy. I am very sleepy so this is going to be boring. Not that anything else on here is overly scintillating.

Me and Meyerhoffer (above)

I really wanted to surf today but the tide was super high at noonish and the swell ain't much. Joel and I decided to go out around 7, when it dropped a little more. He finished his 9'2 board. I call it Jaws... it's burgundy and deep blue. Reminds me of these popsicles we'd get in Korea as kids called Jaws Bar. The wrapper was a great white shark, the outer shell of the popsicle was dark blue and when you bit into it, you got a bloody strawberry filling. Jaws board.

As the afternoon wore on, the wind picked up, temperature dropped and waves weren't looking hopeful. Around 7, a thick fog moved in, killed the wind and glassed the water. Two out of three ain't bad but the thing about a fog sesh that's fun and freaky is that you can't really see anything. I wanted to take out my Meyerhoffer but decided against it since I wouldn't be able to see much.

Took Shit out for the first time in months. Shoulders are screaming from the extra work of paddling a bit of a shorter board. Decided to take the surf cam out for fun since Shit has the mount for it. Was going to capture Joel's maiden voyage on his Jaws board. Unfortunately, the waves were kinda ankle biters, the tide was low and the kelp was thick... and neither of us had kelp fins in. I'm saying this because I swore to the Baby Jesus and Allah to Joel that I wouldn't post any videos of his rides until we have bigger waves and less kelp.

On a fun note, I said to Joel in the water, "I hope I can get a little otter on film." I saw a wave coming, turned to paddle for it and sea otter popped up right in front of me. Here's some video of the view when paddling out, catching a tiny little wave... and a sea otter saying hey. My seal wasn't out today. Oh, we're also surfing at the Dirt Farm. The house on the cliff with the lights on belongs to Jack O'Neill of O'Neill Surf.

2010-08-30T16:52:00.000-07:00

First thing I'd like to share is this:

I realize that the majority of the things she's talking about are things that appeared I was doing alone. But I wasn't. My boy was with me just about anywhere I went. He listened attentively to songs in their infancy, always sitting next to an amplifier or the next loudest thing. I started putting big airport-worker type headphones on him. When it was just me and him for dinner, lunch, breakfast, coffee, I always tried to go places where dogs were allowed. I moved to a city in a state where dogs are allowed just about anywhere. I guess from the human perspective I seemed like someone going it alone who happened to have a pet in tow. I was always scared of what would happen if I kept on with all these adventures, further and further away to places unfamiliar and I lost him. I was scared of what loneliness is like. When women came and went, it was always him they hugged goodbye and saturated his downy ears with their tears. Tugboat never had a hard time making friends when we were strangers in strange lands. With a flip of his table-clearing tail and sea otter smile, he made a home here for us with everyone we encountered. The girls at the coffee shop always had a piece of ham for him, he made an effort to introduce himself to all the new neighbors because I can't be bothered with strangers, small talk or telephones. He was the dog at the harbor that everyone had to snap a photo of and ask his name as we navigated around the yachts and sea lions. The outrigger girls cooed at him as they paddled by Hawaii Five-0 style. "His name is Tugboat." "Oh, how perfect!" Yes, he was perfect, even when I had to bike chain the cabinets shut from his countersurfing.

Today I caught myself a few times looking behind my chair so I didn't roll over him because he wasn't under my desk. I woke up this morning at four thinking about all the things I should've done differently and maybe his stroke was my fault because he brought chicky ducky to me wanting to play and maybe I shook it too hard and that's when it triggered his imbalance. I tried to feel one of his hugs that he used to do before his hips started really hurting. Maybe I ran him too much when he was younger. I can't believe the hills we used to climb. I cried myself back to sleep and through the alarm, waking up four minutes before my conference call. I hope he forgives me for all the supid selfish shit I've done. A couple years ago I got so drunk one night I fell asleep and left him outside. It wasn't freezing or cold but I let him down. He ripped off doorknobs, chewed through ropes, opened windows and jumped out of cars to find me. My friend, Ed, put it best: He was the Steve McQueen of dogs. I feel like rice paper in a hurricane without him.

When I did get on the call this morning, my client sounded miserable, but honest. She said, "Ah, you know, it's Monday morning and sometimes all this corporate stuff just gets to me. But, I guess I should just be happy I have a job." Yeah.

Forty minutes later the call was over and I had my marching orders to fill the world with more mundane messaging. I went around front and told Joel we needed to check our lottery numbers from 10 days ago. The night Tugboat died, we went to a Chinese restaurant where I really didn't eat anything but cracked open a fortune cookie that said something like I was going to be crossing great waters and "lucky" numbers. We decided to play them and won ten bucks. So when we went south Big Sur, Morro Bay and then Pismo, we bought some more with our ten bucks, using the same numbers and some quick picks.

Joel came back and we pulled out the tickets and pulled up the megamillions site. First number. Match. Second. Check. Third... yup. Fourth... holy shit. He thought I was joking. Although I kid about a lot of things I think feigning a winning ticket should've been on Moses' Ten Commandments. Thou shall not fill others with that much false hope at once.

We did our epilectic seizure/disco dance, all stoked. I thought we won about two grand but it turns out we won $162. The kicker? The guy who won the $182 million bought his ticket in Morro Bay. If we'd had one more number, we would've won $250K. I don't play the lottery that much so I've never gotten that many numbers. Maybe a buck here or there. It's crazy what it does to your adrenals when you realize you're not hallucinating. I'd like to cross those great waters soon.

I looked around the house today and did my mobile assessment: could I be up and gone in an instant right now? The answer is no. It's starting to seem too settled in here again. Need to whittle things down back to the bare minimum of necessities. I lived six months just fine with a pot, fork and knife. Oh, and my juicer. And sleeping bag. I used to say that if I ever won the lottery my only big purchase would be a jet so Tugboat and I could go overseas without them quarantining him. My boy, he got so tired. I dragged him too far.

2010-08-29T20:29:00.000-07:00

Gnarly wind at surf check around 6. 14 knots WSW. No thanks. Forgot to mention how cold the windswell today made the water up north. Causes an upwelling of the deep water. My little phalanges were all fat and throbbing like snausages when I got out of the water.

Also forgot to mention that at the O'Neill sale yesterday I was looking at some shorts and realized I'm at that age where I'm way too old to be wearing about half the stuff on those racks.

We ended up going to Pink Godzilla and falling into a food coma at the table. Going to try to stay awake for True Blood. It feels like winter this evening. Miss my boy. Had a dream last night I was in some strange hotel looking all over for him.

28 & 29 Aug, 2010, Sessions 60 & 61: The Favorite Spots

2010-08-29T15:47:00.000-07:00

Zeez and I ended up surfing the Dirt Farm early yesterday morning. Nothing happening at Privates. Nothing really much happening at the Dirt Farm but waves were ride-able if you really wanted to work for them. Caught a few, came in as the crowd cluttered up the soup. Had brunch at Harbor Cafe where the bartender, with some of the best portraiture tats I've even seen, works. She's got Patsy Cline, Billie Holliday and a super hot pin up girl... and she looks like a pin up girl. Although, she is not, in my opinion, the hottest bartender in Santa Cruz. That title belong to May at Palomar in the harbor. In fact, after rest time yesterday, Joel and I decided we needed to visit her... but she wasn't there. Then, after surfing up north all morning, we were all excited to go to Whale City to see the Davenport girls... but none, none, none of them were working. Not even the MILF. Strike two. But, yummy tuna melt and they played Chaka Khan and Madonna one the way home. Four Mile is something else. Waves breaking in all directions, into wedges, and sharp turns. I was so disheartened to find a plastic bag in the kelp beds, even way out there. WTF with the plastic people? They kill otters, turtles, leak petrochemicals into the ocean and never, ever goes away. All the plastic ever made in this world is still here on earth. It doesn't disappear. Ok, off the soapbox and back on the sexwax....

I paddled the plastic all the way back to the beach, then paddled back out all the way past the 70 waves breaking in different directions. I'm going to have Crystal Carrington shoulders without needing the shoulder pads.

I'm about to take a disco nap before we try to sunset sesh tonight. Joel's almost done drilling the fin boxes in his new board. Hoping the wind simmers down. As usual, I hung out with a seal, along with surfing with Joel and Frankie today, too.

Oh, here's a pic from the Scratching the Surface movie premier that Freeline posted. Good ol' Wayner, longboard legend extraordinaire....

Joel took this picture apres surf. I know it looks like I'm copping a squat... but I'm not. I swear. That's not the right angle for it anyway.

Sometimes I can't believe just how lucky I am to get so close to something so beautiful. It's humbling and invigorating. So much so that it makes me want to cop a squat in a cliff cave.

Pray that wind dies down or at least becomes off shore so we can have one last sesh before my gnarly ass 6 am conference call tomorrow..... Dear Baby Jesus in the Manger, please help me be able to stay up late enough to watch Mad Men. Amen. Shalom.

27 Aug 2010, Session 59: Fun Friday and Night

2010-08-27T21:37:00.000-07:00

I meant to mention yesterday that as Joel and I were paddling out, a worried mother of two boys, probably 10 and 8, asked us to paddle out to her offspring and tell them to surf closer to shore. The sets were getting bigger as the tide dropped and swell pulsed for a last hurrah for the week. The thing about a good swell during the week means lots of me makey-up-the-worky on the weekend... or whenever the swell fades if I still have clients by then. Priorities. The boys weren't exactly the direction we were going, but it's not like I couldn't use the extra cardio. I paddled out to them and said, without trying to emasculate their little grom souls, that their mom wanted them in closer. They were so cute. The big brother helping the young one in.

Anyway, the swell faded this morning and the fog didn't lift until about 1pm. It was a pretty high high tide, about 5 ft around noon. I kept doing a couple wave checks. The wind at one point was almost at 12 knots with white caps past the kelp beds. Missy was coming down to surf for the first time since she's been gone for three months. Low tide was at sixish so we thought we'd catch it a little lower. There were no waves happening and nobody in the water. Around two I walked Budgie back down and saw some hopeful looking sets. Missy got here around 3.30, we took a walk back down to the Dirt Farm and there were about 10 people in the water. We came back to change and by the time we got back (we decided not to go to Privates) the place was packed. Luckily the sets were running from Jack's house almost all the way to Drainpipes, the wind died completely to the point of it being glassy and I showed Missy my secret line up spot to stay away from the knuckleheads and still catch waves. I'm not going to mention where it is here. :)

It was an awesome session. Really had to paddle hard for the waves and even when you thought you had it, you had to give it about four more insurance strokes. My shoulders are en fuego. My pop up was right back to where it should be and got some really good, long rides. Here's the best part about the whole thing:

My grey seal surfed with us the whole time. Again. And by surfed with us I mean he took waves we were on, swam back to our spot right next to our boards and hung out the whole time. I call him Tugboat Seal. Clever, huh? I want to write something here about how blessed I feel but it seems so.... flat and banal. The right words elude me but my heart is full of gratitude.

Sidenote: I came home to Animal Planet on. They were showing the blood dolphins documentary. Now I'm watching Celine and Fabien on their dad's "Ocean Adventures" show trying to save beluga whales and I cannot handle the images of slaughter. God, it boils a really gnarly viper brew inside me. I need to champion my own ship and go f-wording ninja on these jackholes.

So, I just got home from the premiere of the Quicksilver "Scratching the Surface" movie I attended with Missy, Joel, Frankie, and Wayner. All the local surf royalty were there. Killer soundtrack. We realized that practically our whole street was there and that we were all probably being robbed. Finished are my days of leaving everything open back here.

Anyway. What a difference a few great waves make and then hanging at the movie premiere with friends who honor the ocean and everything in it.

Surfing with Zeez tomorrow am at Privates. Kelp fin makes all the difference! Probably going to be a fog surf. Being good and heading to bed early without a hangover in the forecast. Sober is the new wasted.

26 Aug 2010, Session 58: Barrels of laughs and monkeys

2010-08-26T21:45:00.000-07:00

Writing this one from my confy bed after another awesome dinner from our new grill. Petite filets and grilled broccoli w sesame oil and sea salt. It's that red meat craving time of the month.

Finally had a great session and I guess needed the swell to be big enough to make the crowds disperse and my ass pucker. Joel dragged me out to Second Peak where the kelp fin was like Ginsu of the Sea for a sunset sesh. The winds died and the swell throbbed. I feel like I'm finally breaking the nasty pop up habit after a few hours on the trainer. Caught some solid fun waves. The new board has a lot of rocker and the kelp fin makes it a little more squirrley but all in all, best sesh in a long time. At one point I rode one pretty much all the way in, turned around and a set full of at least double overhead barrels came charging through. Joel got WORKED. Caught inside. I tried to grab my board after one wave, ended up grabbing the fin and sliced my thumb. Called it a day.

Was missing my boy so bad today. Then went to New Leaf, the local organic grocery store here, because I'm out of my growler of Dr. Kefir and I got a 'buy $50 and get $10 off coupon.' Turns out when I got to the register I ended up only buying $48.20 of stuff... steaks, veggies, chicken, raw dog food. Oh well. I ran into Joanie, Gary's wife, who is a dog trainer and she told me she heard about Tugboat which made me have to suck back in all the teardrops. THEN, I go to the meat counter and Dr. May is there. P.S. You have to love a vet that surfs. Anyway, we also talked about Tugboat and I thanked him for the cards and flowers. Again, sucking back in the waterworks. The good thing to know I guess is that I can walk through the grocery store and people remember my boy. Budge ate her breakfast and dinner today. I took her for two walks... well, two surf checks, and a bike ride. She's into hopping up onto the benches at the Dirt Farm.

I'm letting her sleep on the bed lately. And, yes, I still keep Aloe's chicky ducky next to me.

Stoked for the movie premiere and me and Missy's sesh tomorrow. Going to try to go in the morning early before the afternoon sesh but really depends on the Z's I can catch.

Also, I might have to be glued to CNN or something on Saturday to see if clash of the Sharpton/Beck produces anything. Antagonism in the City = HBO's new series.