Cold goodbyes

Today was my last full day in the RWC before I fly back to reality and my job (a place I call Phoenix) at noon on Friday.

It was a quiet day today. No cold wind freezing your face, instead a calm and lethargic chill. The clouds had moved in, and the sky was a offshore grey, as if we were someone's pet bird who's owner had tossed over a blanket on our cage to quell us. Nothing was really active, winter had officially arrived and things were hunkered down for the season.

I got up surprisingly early at 9, before my parents, which is a complete anomaly, and started to make breakfast. I made a hearty egg scramble for dad and I before getting on the cell and calling my bank card company to resolve a miss cashed check. They said that it would be fixed, but I have yet to see the results...I guess I'll wait a full business day to see.

After that, Dad and I took a long walk and ended up going though my old high school. We were so wound up talking bout some family history, his health and relatives long gone that I pretty much failed to look around at my old, but changed surroundings.

We stopped once more at my Godfathers house, talked to my Godmother for a few and then picked up my old computer which my Godfather fixed for my parents to use. I suppose I failed to see the true logistics of hand carrying a 40 lb, awkward shaped CPU cased unit on foot, at a slow pace for my father, for over 1 1/2 miles. I managed, without having to stop, to lug it back home. It was easy after the first 3/4 mile as in I ceased to feel pain in my arms and fingers to to them going numb.

My Godfather did a great job, and it worked better than before. It was just a matter of trying to hookup Internet access.

Around 3 I drove to Fry's electronics in Palo Alto to look for essential parts.

Picked up essential parts.

Installed parts.

One part no work.

Drive back to Fry's after dinner.

Return parts, buy new ones.

Install new parts.

Parts work, but still no Internet.

4 hours of work with no results.

Marc says hell with it, and will fix when in town next time. Until then, my Godfather and Dad can tinker with it and try to fix it. I think I'm just missing a router.

To add to it, on the way home (the second time), it started to rain. I honestly didn't care, because it started to rain after I got in my car from picking up a bag of Chuck's donuts.

There really is 2 things in this world I really love. Chuck, and his goddamn donuts. Plain glazed of course, but his other flavors are quite orgasmic. Blissful enough that when I die, I want to be re-incarnated as a donut from Chuck, because its as close to Heaven as I can imagine.

Well, that and being a Chuck's donut on a solitary beach in Hawaii at sunset...with 100 nekkid supermodels...now I'm fantasising.

The slow rain came, soaking everything. I spent the rest of the night quietly in the living room with Mom and Dad watching some oddball movie til we all went to bed around 11.

I laid in bed with a long forgotten comfort from the past, a slow rain draining off the roof, and down the metal gutter, resounding as a natural metronome, drop by drop,

dunk..dunk..dunk..dunk..dunk..dunk..dunk.....

Godspeed- a prosperous journey

A few pictures from the past day and a half, the rest will be on shutterfly once I arrive back in PHX. You can click on the pictures to zoom.





















Bounty Hunter and Bite Me
Pillar Point Harbor
Half Moon Bay 12/07

























Pulgas Temple
12/07


































"American Watershed"
Al and Irene, Pulgas Water Temple
12/07































Cold Rose

Red Morton Park Rose Garden
12/07





























Bottlebrush wheatgrass
John Gill School
12/07

Crazy chickens and frozen souls

Christmastime back home always has a special place in my heart that I consistently look forward to every year, this year was no different. It felt good to be home, like a very fuzzy warm blanket on a cold night, and here, literally, I needed warm blankets.
Christmas eve was a late night's start for me. We had a ham fiasco for dinner, whether it was an old pig or stubborn oven, a small ham which should have taken a little less than 2 hours took close to 3, with some minor charring of sugary glaze on the oven walls. Nevertheless still tasty.
I headed down to my Godfathers house later than usual, making sure I didn't show up during their dinner. The mood was subdued. Still somewhat happy and pleased that we were all around eachother, but it felt as if something was missing. I still had a good time and left with a smile on my face from memories of Tina's crazy chicken dog toy tirade.























Christmas Day we slept in, and then had a good breakfast. My folks went to church and I relaxed on the couch with the laptop. Around 3 we headed across the bay to my uncle Frank's house for Christmas Day dinner. There was a lot of really good foods, best of which was the smoked turkey and bachalaiu (bach-I'll-oww) bread bowl-a salted codfish & bean mix in a bread bowl.
We ate and drank, a lot...My uncles and I mostly, bottles of red wine and scotches. With the food though, I only had a slight buzz. Regardless, I made Dad drive home to be safe.
We still had the typical drama with my grandma and P.O.S. uncle which sparked stressed heated talk at the dinnertable, but it was expected unfortunately, and we did change the topic quickly.
It was an early night and we all slept well.

Today, the 26th was a relaxed day. My father and I took a long walk early in the morning and talked about his past a bit while walking towards my godfather's house. We stopped by on his day off to see if anything was planned for a family dinner. Later on that day we decided to postpone it until the next day.
After our walk, we got home and drove to Half Moon Bay to pick up some pigeon feed and to get some chowder and calamari at our restaurant near the docks. It was clear skies, but cold and windy. The wind chill dropped the temps into the 40's.
























A light and tasty lunch later, we headed home. I went on a walk a few hours ago and decided to take a bunch of pictures along the way like I usually do. It was 3 pm and brutally cold. Long pants, underarmour thermal top, fleece, gloves and a ski cap and I was still frozen. The wind chill came and slapped me in the face like a hard studded leather glove from a pissed off southern gentleman. I still marched on through my old schools and parks, memory lanes and nostalgic streets, sucking on sweet and sour clover flower stems as I did as a child,taking pictures of places and plants in the frigid December air that I long to live in once again.

2007: Trying to find balance

I guess the theme for the entire year of 2007 was trying to find balance. Balance with my job, body, mind and sanity. I pretty much failed on all fronts. Not that I consider it all a loss, just experience en route to finding the right way to such balance.

I figure what I needed, or in fact need is to basically test my mettle on all those aspects, to see what I am made of; whether I can adapt myself as a man, or crumble under times of challenge. I fully anticipate to be tested in 2008, mostly by choice, but some things may come unannounced to my doorstep.

Finances: 8.7 - + 0.2

A slight increase over last years. I was able to continue saving into various accounts and further plunged into investments. I even can say that this year I "diversified" my money into other options...that is my middle management word of the day...diversified.

The US stock market and housing slide continued, so while I am still in the black in stocks, and own more, the value in net is the same as the beginning of the year. As per the usual behavior, the 4th quarter usually takes a up and down ride for investors.

Work:5 - -4.0

Yes, a four point drop. Why? In part of my vision of challenging myself, I've realized that I've been working in the same industry for over 10 years. Almost 4 at my current job. It's a dead zone of stagnant repetition. The same faces over and over again that I saw 10 years ago, just now emblazoned on a new generation. The pay is stable, but there is no space to advance. I've had this painful bump on my head that I just now found out how I got it-I've been rammin my head against a glass ceiling for 5 years and have concussed myself into comfortable submission.

Change needs to happen. The ideas of opening up my own place are off the backburner and are just getting cold on the counter now.

I have a few options open for working at various distributors in the next few months and all I need to do is jump to take it.

Another option is to get my real estate license and go into that sector. Too bad the real estate market is crap now.

The prospect of property ownership to is flaky at best due to the junky market. Sellers refuse to negotiate and prices are set too high from when they bought in high cap markets and are trying to not get a loss.

They say that people change careers about every 10 years, well, its about time.

Social Life 6 - -2.0

Down 2, because of lack of going out as much and staying at home more. The friends that I do and would go out with usually work on the nights I don't. The exception is Doug, which has been a pretty reliable constant, off Tuesdays and Thursdays. We've had a good amount of debauchery this year, maybe more next year. I've lost touch with a few friends, and lost a couple all together. On the plus side, I've gained a sparse few new good ones in Kristin, Jon & Anala. I have been spending a lot more time on self reflection and Independence anyways. I've always liked alone time and if I get too lonely or depressed I usually sleep or go out with whoever is out too.

And dag gummit...the trizan was permanently altered and Vegas bookies are screamin at the odds that Dirty Ryan got married first...I still think a tiny island property in hell froze over that day.

Love Life 7.5 - ~

No change from last year and I'm not going to post that personal stuff here anymore anyway.

Spirituality 3.5 - +0.5

There really isn't much change over the current year. I have questioned my place in the world a bit more, which ties in to the challenging myself idea. Thankfully no members of the family have died or close friends to challenge my personal beliefs. Not that my agnostic ass has many right now anyway. My personal belief in heaven would be to find a place wherein I can have no stress or commitments and be happy and one with my soul..which as of late has been quite lost.

Family 8.5 - +0.5

Its a very comfortable feeling to say that there were no deaths, major illness, divorces, financial troubles or stresses in the family this year. Tina and Jeff were on the move a lot, but seemed to have luck settling down back in Cali. My cousin Sara got engaged. I got to throw a huge 70th birthday party for mom in July and had a blast doing it. I saw my parents more and got to be closer to them through talks and actually going out to social and cultural events ( even though I pushed it on dad...the stubborn bull ended up liking them anyways). I made a decision and a push to make an attempt to move back home. So far it's still looking like 1-2 years out, and it could change in an instant depending on health and financials. All in all, the desert is lonely and my family is not getting any younger. Speaking of, Miss Jenny Jones is officially 50 as of last month (people years), and while she still acts and moves like a 2 year old, the grey hairs prove otherwise.

Health 6.0 - -0.5

Laziness, stubbornness and not caring to much. A lot of the same as last year. I've gained and lost. I worked out for a bit, stopped. I ate good, then bad. I stopped some bad habits and then regressed a few times. The underlying thought is still there-a lack of motivation. I have no real desire to get going on things. I still feel strong, but I'm still tired all the time and really like to sleep a lot.

I got West Nile ( or at least am 90% sure of it) this year and was out of commission for a week. That was NOT fun. I guess I still have a kick ass immune system because of the handful of colds I had, I knocked them out in less than 3 days with minor symptoms, but this whooped my ass. The same sickness put my boss in the hospital for a week a week after I got it.

I turned 31 this year and am officially in my thirties.

Overall 6.45 - -0.80

Down almost a point from last year. A few minor gains and a major loss in my job life. I may be a little alarmed at the changes in the negative directions, but I can promise you one thing, that the results 12 months from now should be even more cause for thought. The thing is, with what I have planned, I don't know if the weights will slide drastically in the positive or negative directions. I have things lined up, and when I'm willing to share them with you, I will. Til then, have a good 2008.

Wheres the beef?

Quick joke-
What do you call a bull masturbating?

Beef Stroganoff....

old guys packing walnuts

Ok, this made my day, up until the checkout process...Amidst my errands today on my day off, i headed to WalMart to pick up some essentials. Upon my arrival, I met the coolest old dude ever...hands down....like, you would deserve a smack if you tried to challenge it..
The play by play....
I park on the south side and enter through the less crowded garden entrance. I arrive at the door, grab a cart and say hi and nod to the old greeter dude there.
I'm walking past him and he stops me short...like literally gets his 74 year old body in front of mine and halts me..
"See that lady over there ducking past the trees across the street?? Damn she has a nice backside."
I was caught off guard. I spin around to try and make sense of his potential gibberish and spy a future soccer mom in skin tight black pants 300 feet away.
"That is nice...can you buy that in here?
"No, I don't think so..."
"I'll tell you what, I can't buy any, but if I find out where they sell that, I'll come back and tell you so you can go get one"
"Yeeah, ok, I tell you though, I may be real old, but I know what looks good."
"I hear you, it doesn't matter how old you are, as long as you can still perform."
He chuckles, "I guess so, you're right there."
He then grabs hold of my arm and pulls in closer, " You know, I still pack some walnuts..."
I laughed my ass off and walked into the store....
If only every greeter there was as cool as that guy...

Mr Invisibl ...

In Mission Impossible 2, the opening scene is a brown locked Tom Cruise free climbing up the face of a god awful impossible overhanging desert cliff. As if being a super-spy and saving the world wasn't enough, he felt like having a bigger challenge...for fun. Don't get me started...Jason Bourne would whoop his ass. Anyways, as the beginning credits start rolling, the Metallica song "I disappear" plays (once again, don't get me going...awful song for a sell out mainstream band)
Anyways, I can relate. I am here, but I have disappeared for the most part.
I work, I come home, I occasionally cook dinner, get tanked at home once a week, passout, repeat.
Outside of that, I've been Christmas shopping and shipping things out to Cali ahead of time as a pre-emptive strike for the holiday gatherings. Which is about a week out, and I am definitely looking forward to getting the puck out of here for a week.
Now, when I say Christmas shopping, I'm not necessarily excluding myself. In fact, for the first time, I've given more to myself than to others. Trust me, I still gave, but I liked the fact of spoiling myself after years of self-neglect.






















So, new laptop ( which directly ties into my future vision quest next year...more details later),
fully upgraded my old outdated ( and still reasonably outdated) desktop PC, new clothes, gadgets, toys, movies, appliances and what nots. Whats funny about it is that it all wouldn't be possible, along with the other Xmas gifts, if I had pulled the holiday party...which was scheduled to had been last weekend. No stress, no time pressure, more cash and a happier me.
Yes, I've had some local adventures here and there, not too much to write about, or to be any of your non-essential business.
I have some issues to develop and write about, but that is for another time.
Till next time, I'm still alive and breathing...and I disappear.....
*bink*

Last days of Innocence

*fall 1993, senior year*

A glass of wine down and in the middle of a 3 way international conference call last night, my two old friends of mine and I started to reminisce and discuss how we (or people in general) lose the carefree nature that we all had in our youth.
Full fledged adults now, with mortgages, bills, 9-5 jobs, responsibilities and even a wife now, we have all seemed to forgotten the carefree nature that we once had. It's a sobering and bittersweet feeling to have fading feelings of those days. Now days we spend most of our hours trying to make a comfortable lifestyle by working our asses off. The irony of those days was that we didn't have to work at all to live an aesthetic lifestyle of being happy.
I put it bluntly to Ryan last night in saying how I remember how easy it was to come home from school, drop off the backpack, grab the basketball, head over to his house next door and roll up the street to shoot hoops until dinnertime, wolf down dinner and then head back out again to do whatever adventurous & mischievous deeds we deemed fit for ourselves until bedtime. Wake up the next day and repeat. Same after that day...til the weekend when school wasn't a factor and we had all day to misbehave and do what we wished.
Albeit, we had that carefree style due to our parents bearing the responsibility of feeding, clothing and sheltering us, but now we spend most of our days occupying ourselves with providing those same things all the while working and saving towards the far future wherein, more than likely, we will not fully be able to enjoy the fruits of our efforts due to old age.
Which is complete bullshit.
Which all the more reinforces my fledgling idea of just saying fuck it and doing things that make you happy.
We as adults have lost that ability to just "play". There is an inherit goal in some way to every action we do, which makes us jealous of our own past childhood. As youth, we did things because we just felt like it, because it gave us joy, or it was something new, or sometimes for no reason at all. Why did you jump up and down on the bed? Why did you dig in the dirt? Run after the Ice Cream man? Why did you go climb a tree? Because it was fucking there.
And it was usually better when you did it with a friend.

To hell with it.

I've been debating a lot of things in my life over the past few months. My motivation for things has been withering away or non existent. One of those things is the Holiday party.

Usually by this time every year, I am getting motivated to plan and throw the party. As of now, the invitations aren't even made, and they are usually sent out by now.

I've been giving a lot of serious thought on if I should even throw a party this year. And why should I?

Here's how I've been seeing a lot of things recently about my generosity and hospitality. Every time I throw a party, the people that come out, I tend to only see once until the next year or never again. The majority of them don't do anything in return.In essence, they are sponges. Not that I am doing it to buy my friends, I know that I don't have to do that. My time (usually about 2 months of planning), money(about $1500+) and stress (at wit's end) in regards to this annual event are probably better spent elsewhere.

On the eve of my 31st birthday as usual on Halloween, I have yet to receive a card, or to have someone ask me what's up for my birthday outside of my inner circle of friends. It makes me wary of entering what is supposed to be my "golden year".

At least my parents are here and we will be celebrating with a quiet dinner tomorrow night at home, as I will be working on my birthday night and they will be leaving early in the morning on Nov. 1st.

I know who my true friends are, and we invest in each other tenfold. Others however just tend to take and not re-invest in maintaining a friendship with me. Those kind of people don't call to invite me out to do anything- whether it be a movie, lunch, drinks, coffee, or just to chat. What's the worst that could happen? That I couldn't make it? They don't offer to help out with anything. They don't truly mean it when they ask how I am, let alone be concerned with my personal stresses.

How many times have I had people over to my home, welcomed them in, indulged and spoiled them, waiting on them hand and foot and then not hear anything else from them after they leave.

Do I really need to cater to that abuse any longer? Or should I take the time and money that would go to this and spend it on those people who truly matter...including myself?

Just as am trying to take stock of myself right now, those people need to do the same, and possibly realize that there is a great benefit to returning the love that is given. The outcome is a more enriching experience than just receiving.

I understand that I am not the best with correspondence, or the use of a phone in general. I hate the damn things. I'm lazy and complacent and have the ideology that people should come here since, there is a plethora of booze and entertainment in my house, for free outside of someone picking up a 6 pack or some chips and ice. The frequency of me going out is rare too. I usually just stay at home, or go out locally, stumbling distance around the block.

I know I need to make a better effort at being a friend to people, and especially to some of my closer friends. I need to write more, call more and try to do things with them more frequently and get out of the house.

I'm used to being solo, which is fine since I am so introverted. That still shouldn't be an excuse to my closer friends. At least they hopefully know what they mean to me.

Therefore, in breaking tradition over the past 10 years, the holiday party is cancelled.

I still may have my small handful of my close friends over for a small dinner on an undisclosed date to say thank you, but for the general populous, maybe next year.

Those of you that are my friends will understand, and if some of you don't, then maybe you should re-evaluate whether or not you truly are a friend of mine. I suppose I shall find out in short time.

slacker ass

Yes, I know, I've been slacking on a lot of things. Mostly because my parents have been in town for the past week and a half, and will be here through my birthday on the 31st. The trip I wanted to take them on up to Prescott that weekend is off due to the nighttime lows being too cold for them to transition from 70+ degree nites here to 38 up there.

Plan 2 was to drive out with them to San Diego to visit with my Aunt and Uncle there on Sunday and fly back to work on my birthday Wednesday, but with pretty much the entire part of Southern California being a giant charcoal briquette and my Aunt now recovering from knee replacement surgery on last Monday, that is pretty much off too. It wouldn't be a good idea for Dad to be in a smoke inundated atmosphere having basically one lung, so I think they will crash here through for another week til the air and fires clear up and my Aunt is better suited for company.

Meantime, I'll try to plan a day trip or two to somewhere interesting, that isn't cold, or too hot, or requires a lot of walking about, and suits their interests on a relative budget for all...I'll do my best. I'll try to post whatever I can in somewhat a timely fashion, but lately, I'm enjoying spending time with them and am not too worried about dictating it all promptly on the computer. Anyways, to toss in a warm and fuzzy for you, here's Dad playing with Jenny.

What hurts your soul

"You know what the Mexicans say about the Pacific? That it has no memory. That's where I want to live the rest of my life, a place with no memory."

Andy- The Shawshank Redemption

Many of us have a place that nobody else can understand what it means to us. Some may be in the middle of the Rockies in fall, Paris in spring, Australia in winter. Mine, as of yet-since I have yet to be at the base of the Maori on Easter Island, is Kailua beach, Oahu.

A vacation is supposed to be a way of escape, to forget what you left. This place goes above and beyond that.

If you've seen the original Men in Black, remember that cool silver flashy memory eraser doo-hickey that they used to make people forget things. Coming to this place is pretty much equal to living in a constant state of that.

Until they can find a way of bottling it or making it virtual, well, unless you have been there, you won't understand what it means to escape. We're all due for it.

what it takes to escape

What I can say that is in Arizona, I was thirty-one years old, and the things that I was choosing not to do were adding up into a whole other life I was choosing not to live.

-Adaptation by me to Steven Kolter's West of Jesus.

What is the consequence of escape? Material and interpersonal wise? I have a relative dead end job that I have been ramming my head into it's glass ceiling for the past 3 years. It's knocked me senseless and relatively unaware of my surroundings for the most part. The irony is that even if I were to work for a corporate bar or a family owned one like now, the results are exactly the same. I'd end up being a manager of some sorts, responsible for the leadership and delegation of other zombie like employees below me as I was once. Which makes me no better than they are.

As for my personal goods and immediate relations-I can always make new bonds with others. The ones that are truly meaningful to me, I know that I will always have them close to me.

Everything else is material, and can very easily be replaced.

So what is the holdup? Shack up a best friend of mine in my house? Pay off the bills in the house for the next two months, buy a laptop to pay my other immediate bills that I easily can pay online all the while doing it from some random roadstop diner in the middle of pigsknuckle Arkansas while on the way to all points east or west or north or south?

I've already delivered such speeches as per my potential plans to those closest and important to me. Consisting of finding myself and just going. They understand. The sad thing is with leaving them. If I could, I'd want to take them with me, but in reality, I know that if I did take such a journey, it would have to be one traveled by myself.

Last Friday evening, early, around 8pm, I got a visit from an old regular whom i haven't seen in almost 2 years. His name was Chris. Before he left, he was my age, and constantly wandered with a similar mask of pseudo happiness around the direct public, but you could tell that underneath the mask was a person in need of finding something that he did not have.

Two years ago he just disappeared. He went from showing up at the bar once or twice a week to nothing.

He showed up on Friday and it seemed like polar opposites. As if we were opposite mirror images of eachother. He the person that, although has been on a long journey and showed the wears of travel, seemed wiser and complacent from it, whereas I was the person that he had left years ago.

He left the valley and spent time in the seedy L.A. Underground music scene for a year and then up and packed up to Europe. Walking, hiking, hitching rides, trains, whatever...across the continent for another year and a half. Well, for 8 months at least. On that slow start to that Friday night, he and I were able to sit and talk about his travels for a good amount of time. After going through the Netherlands, Germany and the UK, he was travelling through France when he made friends with a bar patron in the middle of France. After making friends with the man and telling him of his travels, the man offered him a place to stay for dirt cheap. Turns out that this man was offering his dirt cheap abode to be nothing less than a 16th century castle in the middle of the French countryside. A whole wing of a castle to himself, with a handful of other renters living in the other wings of the fortress.

I was stoked, but when I asked him why he left, he just told me that it was time to go and move on to something new. I put him on pause for a few minutes while I helped 3 other customers, and by the time I had returned, Chris had once again disappeared.

All I know is that I am growing tired. Not tired of anything generalized for the most part, but personally. My work weeks are structured. Even my mother mentioned it as "that's the way life is dear." On our phone call today, I immediately called her out on it. " Well what if that's not the way i choose to make it work out like? What if I want to make it be different than that? Who says that it has to be that way?"

She had no response.

It's a odd feeling to have a parent, or someone that you consider to be a guiding source of life's ways to not have an answer for you. Then again, I shook off her misjudgement as that's all she's ever known from her childhood and young adult life and right through her current marriage to my father.

Depression can be a royal bitch. As if I believe in pills or therapy. Pills are just a way for my insurance rates to constantly rise and for pharmaceutical co's to get richer.

Therapy may help, for despite what my friends think, there are a plethora of events in my past that definitely affected my current psyche.

But not as much as the bitch it is to not have the self confidence to be self-assertive and do what makes you happy. It just is a big crutch now days that you can do what makes yourself happy, but you have to take into account what your actions may reflect on others, especially your family.

I cheers that a few times on Sunday for football, but strangely, I think I may have been the only one who truly meant it.

Who would think it? I remember back in the day in the living room of my man Ryan's house, that the Trizan-Ryan, Doug and I- that in all our talks and predictions, that not I were to be the one to be first to marry and start a family, but that Ryan was the first to travel and explore and marry, Doug would settle down and have the more lucrative career, and I am the one to be stuck at a impasse, not knowing where to head off to.

10 years of Aloha and Ohana

In Late 1997, 12 people crammed into a tiny duplex apartment that had tables and chairs laid out from the kitchen into the living room, on top of the couch and partially into the tiny 3 ft Christmas tree perched precariously atop a endtable. The bar consisted of 5 bottles of booze and a cooler sat outside the front door with a 24 pack of beer...which, if you wanted a beer, you had to ask the person sitting at the table in front of the door to reach back, around the door and grab a beer.

Tight, cramped and poor...but the spirit is still the same.

Aloha(Love) and Ohana (Family).

In 1997, it was the first year that I had NOT gone home for Thanksgiving. Homesick, I missed the family gathering wherein close to all 35 of my west coast side family members crammed into my grandparents house for the feast.

To make up for that, my novice cooking skills and I decided to have a gathering with my closest friends and co-workers....my other Ohana...my other family.

Little did I know that it would spawn a decades worth of habitually throwing this festas (Portuguese for festival, gathering, feasting).

In 1997 I threw it together, unplanned in a matter of hours. It was cheap and haphazard. A ton of things went wrong, but that never really mattered. It was the guests and the effort that mattered.

Now, a decade later, the beast has grown. This event starts getting planned 3 months ahead now. And with this being the 10th one, and the biggest one yet, ideas and concepts were starting to be slung around clear back in May.

This gathering has gone from a handful of guests to dozens. From a cheap $140 grocery bill to well over $1200. From a underage 20 yr old with 5 bottles of contraband booze to a 30 year old mixologist with an over 120 bottle stocked open bar. A tiny duplex in Tempe's ghetto with landing airplanes every 15 minutes to Gilbert's west side house 3 times the size of the Tempe location.

The irony? This may be the last. I may not be in Arizona for next year's 11th annual. My true blooded Ohana calls for my return to San Francisco. That however, is still up to the winds of fate.

This event has seen so many faces come and go. Some have moved away, some have disappeared, some have fallen out of grace, and some have stayed. One or two have stayed around for 8 or all ten of those years.

The premise is still there, and will be there again this year. The spirit of Aloha and Ohana.

The official announcement is that the

10th annual Holiday Social will be held this year on

Sunday, December 9th 2007 at about 7 pm.

Invitations are designed and will be given out a month before the event.

The September Chill, chapter 2

It never got above 81 degrees the past 4 days while I was home. Every morning the coast was socked in with fog. Yesterday, the day i left, I left a very fogged in San Jose at noon, high was 65 degrees. I sleep good in this weather. The irony is that my bedroom window faces directly East, so that I naturally wake up with the light at 8 am. The only thing that would keep me in bed, not necessarily sleeping, is the September Chill. It's perfect. The window is cracked, and the coastal air flicks you in the face with a hint that winter is on it's way. It snuggles up next to your ear and politely whispers to you to either go ahead and get up to start your day, but if you decide to linger, it will keep you company along with your blanket and pillow...nice and cozy.

I was faced with that every morning while I was there. The only time I abused it was Tuesday morning, suffering from a slight hangover, a headache and a random case of insomnia that didn't allow me to sleep until 7am.

Both my folks were in good spirits while I was home. Both moved with ease. Mom's foot wasn't really hindering her, as the cortisone shots in her tendon helped her walk normal again for most of the day. Dad's PET scan came up negative for any abnormalities, so the only thing he's taking meds for is the occasional heartburn and indigestion and some random $10 a tablet to keep the drug companies rich blood pressure pill. Mom has a pair of similar pills. At least their collection of pill containers has dwindled down from the dozen or so to about 2 plus an Advil container.

It was a enriching feeling to wake up and not really worry about anything but to take my time and spend it with them. Of course I did my own thing at times, usually when they took their afternoon 3-4pm nap, or after 11pm when they went to bed.

Yes, this time I did make a routine trip to Chuck's Donuts at 2am, plus a drive up to Canada college to enjoy said taste treat with a panoramic view of the Bay.

I shocked my parents once, and that was a random thing to happen. I actually shut my father up and expressed not only deep seeded feelings, but a somewhat master plan to move back home. Dad didn't know what to think. I'm not sure that he still does. He understands what I meant, and a general plan about going about it, but we both decided that time will permit it's course of action. In essence, things will fall into place at their chosen time and place, hopefully guided my our nudging it along.

Needless to say, someday soon, Preferably withing the next year to 3 years, I will be waking up, in my own place, to my familiar September Chill of a friend.

The September Chill, chapter 1

September is still a warmer month. Summer is in it's death throes, and fall is on the horizon come the 22nd. Back home, daytime highs rarely cross the 80 degree barrier and night-time lows are hovering around the sweater threshold of 65. Of course that means nil to us average Phoenicians, as of now the day temps are still 100 and lows are a bone numbing 77. Here I don't have the familiar September chill that I am accustomed to from back home in the Bay area.

I recently got back from visiting home yesterday. I was there for 4 days. I wanted to return home a month after my Mom's party because I didn't really spend proper time with my family last month due to throwing the party and then playing tourist with my hometown buddy Doug and Crystal, who has never really been to the area. That and I wanted to start helping to clear out the house a bit.

While I was there, I cleared out one room and reorganized another-which took 2 days. The one room was my old room. Cluttered with past high school memories, empty boxes, outdated furniture and nick knacks. I assembled 2 heaping lawn and leaf bags of trash alone and 2 more plus a old console TV, boxes,books and a computer to donate to charity. One room...and that was the easiest room in the house outside of a bathroom.

My parents are pack rats to a point, either that or they are lazy, or ignorant as to how to get rid of something outside of bringing it to the city dump. You mention EBay or Craig's List to them, and they'll ask who Craig is.

After clearing out my room, Mom tells me that this room's walls were untouched since 1984, when we moved in to the house. It was evident even more so after rearranging furniture and tossing away old posters and frames. Apparently I used the walls as a target range for numerous pointed projectiles.

As a youth, with limited friends, no girlfriends and no real quality family time, being by myself in my room was a daily event. Boredom led to various imagination induced behaviors, some creative, some pointless and some destructive - those stories are for another blog. One year for Christmas, my Uncle frank gave me a mini-desk dartboard with mini metal darts. I quickly found that they stick in the wall better than the dartboard. Posters, stickers, pictures...none were spared. Neither was the walls. Thousands of pinhole marks are all over my old walls. It's a spackler's and painter's nightmare. Those weren't the touchstone scars from this room though.

Two small pieces of defacement meant more than anything else. I couldn't tell you when I made them back then, but the meanings are still fresh. One was a magic marker sentence above my headboard, underneath the window sill which says, "Go to the place of peace". The other, a knife carving in the wall next to the floor that simply said in bold blade wounds, " NO LOVE".

Two statements that screamed out for attention and help back in my adolescence. Some may still have some credence in my current adult life, but the latter is mostly a ghost now. If anything, the former is still a beacon of guidance at any point in one's life.

"Why do you sit there looking like an envelope without any address on it?"—Mark Twain

There's a middle eastern proverb that I came across the other day that makes a lot of sense-

"You my friend have lost your camel,

Your people have told you many advices,

All of it are nice casual words,

Yet you still have lost your camel."

I would assume that back in the past, in that part of the world (and possibly still) that if you lost your camel, you were good as dead in the desert. It provided you with means to haul food, water, other items as well as give you transportation, bartering leverage, status and in a last case survival scenario-sustenance to survive. In effect, it was your life. You lose it, you have lost your life.

It's a clever metaphor for losing one's self. Despite all the well meaned advice from those around you, you are still lost, and the only person that can really dictate the finding of your camel, or in effect, finding yourself, is well....you.

And like Mark Twain's blank envelope, you have no idea what direction you should go.

I'm hoping that by escaping from this place for the next few days and going back to a easier time and place, that it will shed a little bit of clarity onto myself.

The only option outside of that shred of self guidance that I seek is to quit my job, cancel my bills, buy a surfboard, cash out a few thousand dollars in travel cash, pack up some essential gear & my dog in my truck and leave for a few months to I don't care where, just as long as it would be a place with no memory of anything.

Either that, or i stay here, lost in the desert and lose my life.

In the meantime, I'll settle for a small 4 day trip to find quiet with my family.

"Here's to getting the hell out of this foul stench-hole of a state."-D.H.

See you Weds nite.

Viral strain

Most attributed to my recent stress levels breaking me down lately, I got knocked on my ass by some random form of viral infection the past few days.

It's been really rare that a sickness kicks my ass, as usually I'm done kicking sickness's ass within 30 hours with the help of NyQuil, vitamin C and rest, but this one came out of left field and did a number on me.

Monday night I got home early and went to sleep before midnight, only to wake up after an hour and a half because i was shivering uncontrollably. It's 80 degrees in the house...

I get a winter comforter and get the dog on the bed and I'm still freezing. I never got any more sleep that night. Tuesday morning at work I was a zombie. I ached all over. All my joints were froze up, my head was pounding, I was sweating, and dead tired. I got off at 6 and went home. Napped for 2 hours-once again under 80 degrees of blankets. After midnight, once again, couldn't sleep-chills, sweats, fever, etc. I knock myself out with a NyQuil/Tylenol PM combo and slept through 3 pm the next day.

Wednesday sucked ass the worst. Work was slow and I felt like shit. I had a constant headache all night and I was so stiff that it felt like I was wired together with re bar and concrete. As per this virus' motif, come after midnight, he came out to play. I'm working in the back, where it's 90+ degrees and I'm shivering. I actually had to step outside where it was 100 to warm up a little.

I got dizzy and lightheaded and remembered drifting into unconsciousness once, but was smart enough to know to take a seat and focus on my breathing. That freaked me out man. All my joint and muscle pain mixed in with my breathing as i slowly started to have my hearing fade out and things got numb. Right when I thought I was gonna go down, my last thought was-"fuck, that hard kitchen tile is gonna do some damage when i fall face first into it."

I found a breathing cycle and slowly regained stability. I said fuck it, I gotta go. Since it was slow, I had done everything needed to close down already except mop the floor. I did so and left work early-driving home in 100 degree heat, with the truck heater on.

Crystal followed me home for my safety, and I got into the shower and cranked it as hot as I could, and it was still cold. I got out, double dosed the NyQuil and Advil and tried to sleep.

Now I was too hot, but I wasn't sweating. Little bastard got an immunity to NyQuil too, because that wasn't working. I eventually passed out across the house in the spare bed a few hours later out of shear fatigue from the day and fighting off this bastard.

Got up at 2pm and I was, well...fine. A little sore and grumpy, but ok.

Did some chores, watched some football, regained my appetite. Slept ok, still sweated my ass off and was sore all nite.

Friday, 2pm.

My neck and headaches are still fading in and out today, which I'm sure will be much worse when I get to work tonight, but tonite I hope for a first nite of solid, no drug induced sleep in eager anticipation for me to fly home to see the family on Sunday.

What dreams may come

It could have been the mix of seafood, pasta, 2 bottles of wine and some soy ice cream that made for the interesting dream last night, but more so, it's the current search for happiness lately in my consciousness that manifested itself into a dream.

The first part was mostly irrelevant except for the appearance of my childhood friends. Dirty Ryan and Doug made a cameo appearance in a house before I needed to leave. ( As to remind me of where I came from)

I entered another building. It was dark inside and very,very busy. Imagine the busiest office space conceivable, cubicles everywhere, people rushing around frantically, all the while only lit up with computer screens and tiny Christmas lights.

With all the dimly lit rooms and cubicles...enter my mind.

The people running around stressed out & frantically trying to get work done...my thoughts and feelings.

In the middle of this mess, I found my way to a private office where a tall, skinny, middle aged man was waiting for me. He had a thinned face with a black mustache, and medium length tightly curled jet black hair-as if a mini Afro got stuck on a white guy. Dressed in a tight black shirt and slacks that thinned his look even more. He was soft spoken, with a gentle manner about him which put you at ease and relaxed you as he talked to you.

Say hello to my subconscious self.

It was the setting of a counselors or therapists office. I told him that I wasn't happy and I wanted to change a lot of things, only I don't know how to do any of it. He unfortunately couldn't help me. He said that personal happiness was not his area of specialty, but there was someone that I could go see that would be able to give me what I seek.

He drew up a map for me to find this "classroom" where your teacher can make you happy. He said that the class setting wasn't desks, but kitchen counters and living rooms. He asked a favor of me by suggesting that I don't sit in the back of the class and find a kitchen close to the front.

There will be a green light above the door to the classroom.

The map was utterly useless in this crowded building of my mind. It was to have me walking all around, double backing and getting lost. I ditched the map and decided to let my gut lead the way. I knew the general direction and tried to work my way there.

After stumbling around in my mind for a while, I looked up and saw a green light above a door.

I opened the door and saw kitchen counters in front and living room recliners in the back. I heard the teacher's voice talking to his class.

As I entered the room, his voice faded and I woke up.

Once again, finding myself eluded me.

I fell back asleep and dreamed about driving around in a new black mustang convertible, driving in circles around a strip mall blasting music, trying to impress friends, ex girlfriends and my regular bar customers.

A Dennis Leary day of air combat, lawn furniture, hot dogs and vino.

The next installment of Thursday Solo day entailed a mix of shit that was unplanned. I was in a shitty mood last night. Real shitty. Like, I really was ready to drop my bottle opener, declare open bar and get the fuck out. I stuck through it though. The downside of working nights is that you can't exactly wake up early and head out for a day's events. What I wanted to do was head down to Kartchner Caverns in southeast Arizona and do some cave exploring. it's a 3 hour drive there, another 3 hours of cave exploring and another 3 hour drive back. After working all night and getting no sleep, there would be no way to enjoy it outside of crack cocaine. I nixed the idea and decided to see what was available for one day road trips when I got home. I researched a ton of cool stuff, from ghost towns, to natural preserves, monuments, sites...unfortunately I can't visit them until October, when it finally dips below 100. The rest of the stuff is more than a 4 hour drive and not time efficient. Great....Well, I said hell with it and went to bed. Got up around 12, showered, dominated in the crapper, and head out. My destination was the Commemorative Air Force Museum at Falcon field in Mesa. A bunch of old warbirds and displays from times past. I got there at 2:30. The place closed at 3. I quickly dropped my $7 and hurried my way through the displays. A WWII Mitchell bomber, F4 Phantom fighter from Vietnam, and a P-47 thunderbolt from WWII..among others...

































This P-47 was 1/5 the size of the Phantom behind it....tiny...yet effective.
At closing time I met a docent/guard that was starting to close down the museum. I didn't get his name. He was about my late uncle Gus' age, in his 70's, with cloud white billowy hair and a cleft lip. He made me jealous by telling me that the WWII B-17 bomber that was stationed there called the Sentimental Journey, which I have seen, was on tour in the Midwest. He had just gotten back from flying on tour with them and had flown in the bombardiers seat in front as they flew over Yellowstone park.
I left quick and headed off to Tempe. I had gotten a call from my bro Chris that his brother was in his last throngs of packing for a last minute move to the east coast and needed to get rid of some things. I took home a few deck chairs, a portable fireplace, a bike and some random what nots. I also helped him move his brother's TV center to his apartment. On the way back, he and I hit up Ted's hot dogs for a foot long, hand battered O rings and a root beer. Quite tasty, and definitely defibrillator worthy.

















After offering my help outside of what was asked of me, I bid them Godspeed and headed home.
As for now, I went to Trader Joe's, got some groceries and vino, then headed home to make up some steamed mussels and pasta. the mussels were steamed in a bath of lemon, olive oil, garlic and wine. The pasta was soaked in a mix of red marinara and white Alfredo sauce. for desert, oven baked Acorn squash embedded with brown sugar, cinnamon, allspice and butter.

Combine that with a bottle or two of Sebeka Cabernet pintonage and believe me, right now, I am in happyland.

Unfortunately that solo happyland is intertwined with a mix of self solace and soul searching that as of yet, isn't as productive....

Well that leaves me to say that, as I've been typing and adventuring, I've been getting slowly stewed on vino...playing repeats of Cracker's "low"

"Be with you girl, is like being low, like being stoned...don't you wanna go down...like some disgraced cosmonaut?" and Dennis Leary's " Asshole"

"You know what I'm gonna do? I'm gonna get myself a 1967 Cadillac El Dorado convertible. HOT PINK! With whaleskin hubcaps and all leather cow interior and big round baby seal eyes for headlights, YEAH! And I'm gonna drive around in that baby at 115 mph, gettin 1 mile per gallon, suckin down quarter pounder cheeseburgers from McDonalds in the old fashioned non-biodegradable styrofoam containers, and when I'm done suckin down those greaseball burgers I'm gonna wipe my mouth with the American flag, and then I'm gonna toss the styrofoam containers RIGHT out the side and there aint a GODDAMN thing anyone can do about it. You know why? Cuz we got the bombs okay!!! Two words, okay..Nuclear fucking weapons!...

John Wayne's not dead, he's frozen! And as soon as we find a cure for cancer, we're gonna thaw out the Duke and he's gonna be pretty pissed off. You know why? Ever take a cold shower? Well multiply that by fifteen million times, that's how pissed off the Duke's gonna be. I'm gonna get the Duke, John Casavetties, Lee Marvin, and Sam Peckinforth, a case a whiskey and drive down to Texas. Cuz I'm an asshole...eo...eo..eoleo..."

Eat it!!!! Cuz I'm solo, an asshole and happy about it right now......and proud of it.

The pursuit of happiness

I know currently that there are two things that are for certain going on in my life right now. One is that I've been on a queasy roller coaster ride of ups and downs of highs and funks for close to the past year now regarding anything and everything, from my family life, my personal life, my job, my mental stability, physical fitness and habits and my financial life. Added all together, they affect my mood on a daily basis. Usually one at a time on separate days, and sometimes tag teaming on the same day. The end result is most days I start out after a bad nights sleep to a lethargic days beginning of listed tasks or chores that I have no motivation of doing, or I start out in a positive direction, head to work or to accomplish something and end the day in a worse mood.

Secondly, everyone I know has given me the same advice, in literally the same sentence- Do what makes you happy, or make yourself happy first. I took it as just friendly advice from my peers and friends around me, but it finally hit home a bit deeper when I heard it from a source I wasn't expecting. To hear those words out of my fathers mouth caught me off guard first, and then sunk in farther than even the most personal conversations that I'd ever had with my closest friends.

Make yourself happy.

Seems simple enough doesn't enough? If it was only that easy.

I've set onto myself a goal. To make myself a happy person, no matter what the cost. If it costs me money, so be it. If people get in the way, sorry. If I isolate others, sorry. Why?

Because I can't make others happy if I'm not happy with myself first. Otherwise it's just an empty shell that tries to appease others while at the same time hollowing myself out further.

A truly happy person doesn't have to try to please others, it's effortless and others will wish to be a part of that person's life for the sake of just being there with them. Because of that, I've been selling myself short.

Most of my life has been a service to others. A catering process that involves taking care of other people in order to try and make myself feel good, while ignoring my own needs and wants.

Eventually all those needs and wants build and become too overwhelming to ignore anymore. Usually by then it's too late.

Throwing BBQ's, parties, picking up bar tabs, tipping overly excessively, oversupplying camping trips, etc...while the intentions are not to "buy" my friends and family, since I know they would be there for me regardless, the need to do it surpasses my common judgement. It's possible that my subconscious has been trying to make up for the lack of attention and friends I wanted but didn't have in my earlier years by overdoing it now in a grasping attempt to meet that goal.

It's been a self destructive process from the inside, an internal undermining and corporate takeover by the ego and id to overthrow my personal being and soul.

So what do I need to do?

Find myself?

Take a personal journey?

Forget the things that relatively useless for me to care about?

Or something else?

Maybe a combination of all the above.

What I do know is that my current desire for spending time by myself or time on myself has been increasing, and when I do have that time, I have been cherishing it, and actually have been somewhat productive with it. Whether it be going to a museum, on a drive, watching educational tv, walking the dog or reading a book, it all has been feeling good. Hell, even a bottle of wine and a quick dinner by myself feels good from time to time.

It still does nothing to fill a void however, and I still have no idea of what will. An empty beach and an endless sunset may be a good start on a soul search. If I'm good at it, and it turns out well, I may even have a new hit TV show on Fox...America's Next Great Soul Search...complete with...you guessed it, the soul train dancers and Ed McMahon announcing.

Here's to getting your happy on.

The week in review...sponsored by Gato Negro merlot..

Sooooo....a week ago Saturday my other bartender asked to work my shift. that meant that I had sat, sun and pretty much Monday off. I wake up Saturday, do a bunch of errands and chores, then start to enjoy a quiet Saturday evening at home watching Dirty Jobs and Survivorman on the Discovery network...both my new favorite shows...ever....
I say fuck it and have a bottle of wine while I cook up some mussels, ahi tuna and grilled veggies on the BBQ. As expected...the vino took over after an hour or so and Hasselhoff came out, solo.
Hasselhoff takes a shower, and guess what....walks over to Salty Senorita up the block. Slow night, I chat with my barkeep Brian, do some shots and drinks, get a tab for $8, tip like $30...which is why my tab is always $8.
I close out last call, and start stumbling home. I walk through the back of the neighborhood strip mall and I guess since its dark, and I'm sneaking through the back alleyway, Hasselhoff goes into covert ops Baywatch nights mode....
I hug a barrier wall through a dirt field and arrive at a walled and barred school grounds. Covert Hoff scans for surveillance cams and radios to base of his situation...(ie..i drunk text my friends telling them that my spy name is Steve Woodman from Yakima Washington if I get caught). I continue to infiltrate, but set on getting home I leave, not before diving into a few bushes to hide from a few oncoming cars.
I get home and decide on a whim that I'm going camping. I text whoever I feel and Crystal shows up at 5am. What usually takes me a week to organize and pack for a trip, I do drunkenly in an hour. All I forgot was a click lighter...so that's pretty fucking good for being wasted. We finally leave at 530 and I pass out on the truck ride up as Crystal drives. Wake up in Payson for a few supplies and I drive the rest of the way to camp. Arrive at 7am, set up, crack a beer and just sit to enjoy this typical view from our usual campsite.


























I'm tired...dog tired now. We decide to try and sleep. Stripped down, it's warm outside. 80 degrees, which, in a tent transforms to 120. I was slow roasting and basting myself with the alcohol soaked juices flowing freely from my sweaty ass. After a few hours of playing hide and seek with clouds and the rare breeze, I was about to pass out when I hear a car door close...
Now, if you're camping out in the sticks, even though it is public land, would you just randomly walk through someone's camp?
No...but these people did. A middle aged...and fugly couple parked their spotless white jeep off to the side and then just strolled through the middle of our camp while we were laying in the tent, pretty much nekkid. I get up, hand on my sidearm and start to try and get dressed while I am trying to control a very pissed off and barking Jenny.
One of those situations where it was so rude and unbelievable that you were left speechless.
They left after a minute of checking out the "view" and left me awake, amped up and pissy.




















Set up the fire while Crystal dozed, ate, drank and partied most of the night with her til 1130.
Got up in the morning to cool weather, good breakfast and talk radio only to drive home at noon to 110 degrees.
Worked Mon-Weds...nothing special.

Thursday we once again had a weekly meeting of the ABTEV (Amature beer tasters of the East Valley) at my house. One of our members was on call as the meeting progressed, so no drinking for him. I made up the slack. I did cook up a ton of good food though...oil and herb infused steamed mussels and clams, steaks, veggies and corn cobs and mesquite smoked turkey legs and pork spare ribs. So delicious...these ribs just fell apart...



















Ate and drank myself sober...passed out on the couch....it was a good night.
Friday worked....slow
Saturday worked and got my ass handed to us....schools back....
Oh, finally got my lawnmower back from the repair shop. It's mowing damn good now...the only problem is that I still have a 1/4 acre lawn to mow now where the grass likes to grow a inch a day during monsoon season.....grrr! That's the week!

Dinosaurs and coffee

A sane person would think that dinosaurs and coffee would NOT be a way to relax, but I somehow found a way. Ever since I got back from California, I've been a ball of stress. Working straight through without a day off, plus all the BS drama around the house, I needed to recharge. It was time to shut the engines down and coast in neutral for a little. Thursday I could have easily beat my head against the wall some more in continuing to rescue my computer or tackle more home projects, but I said screw it, I need out.
After work Wednesday, I crashed hard and slept in until 1pm. Got up, took a shower and headed out to downtown Mesa. I had thought about heading to the PHX art museum, but it was closed Thursdays. So I opted for Mesa instead and their arts center...which, on my arrival, was also closed. Oh well. I just walked around Mesa and literally stumbled onto the Mesa southwest museum.
It's been years since I've been in a natural history museum, so I dished out the $8 and wandered around the place for almost 2 hours. It was nice because they had like 10 different areas and galleries, all of which, including myself, had like 12 people wandering at most. It was like I was in the museum after hours for a private show.

























The Mesa museum only showcases natural history and art relating to the southwest, from the creation of the deserts, local dinosaur activity, native american life, art, cowboys & modern history, even the local movie industry in Arizona.
Believe it or not, at one time, Arizona was once mostly underwater and a lush tropical paradise. What the fuck happened to piss the gods off to make it a foul stench-hole of a desert??
At least it still gives us some beautiful things to look at. There was a art gallery displaying works by the Arizona Highways magazine showing photographs from various parts in the state. I stared at this photo for like 15 minutes. It's of a small pool of water in a sandstone canyon reflecting the surrounding cliffs in northern Arizona near Utah.


























After a few hours of wandering and visiting the gift shop, I left. It felt nice to relax and feel a weight lifted off my back. I walked back to the truck and then headed over to Office Max, got a new financial program to replace the one that got erased off my computer and then made a leisurely drive to Scottsdale to the Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf for a iced coffee and a bagel with cream cheese. I sat in their comfy leather chair facing the window, enjoying my bagel and coffee, reading the paper, watching the oncoming dust storm for over an hour. It was comforting and slow paced. I could have easily dozed off in the chair, despite the influx of espresso in my system.
From there I headed back homeways, and decided on a whim to stop off at Cost Plus and Borders books in Mesa. I got a wine decanter and some espresso cups and a bottle of white Portuguese vinho. I walked next door to Borders and just browsed for a while before leaving to head home.
Doug got a hold of me and felt like hanging out on the clock while he worked, so he cruised over at 930. I had a couple beers and chatted before the inevitable happened and Doug got a call. Off to work he went at 1130. I was still in the mood to unwind, so I got dressed and headed up to Scottsdale again and had a few drinks at work. Buddy and Joe were there having a couple drinks, and we left to hit up Mickey's and DJ's.
A few more rounds later, I sauntered back to work, bought some sandwiches for the crew from across the street, ate mine and then split for home.
It was a well deserved day, of which, I need to do more of. Everyone I know has been telling me lately (including my Dad, ironically) that I need to start making myself happy and doing things for me. After Thursday, I see what they mean a little bit clearer. Thursday was a happy solo day, wherein the only person affecting my decisions was myself. I've been living for a long time now always being concerned about what others would like that I've ridiculously been ignoring my own needs and wants, and because of that, I've unknowingly been dumping on more stress and depression onto myself. I need to take stock in my own well being more, otherwise, the cost at the end would be too much of a loss to live with myself.
Peace out from my own private sanctuary.