what.

this is the what:




went to vegas with kris for our birthdays (loved it.)
working at medical billing (loving it.)
trying to get 1987 toyota camry wagon into my name and registered at the same time (hating it, never do this.)
looking to buy a new car as soon as i can sell this one
thinking about buying property in the near future
hopefully moving in april
learning the drums

kitty,

this is how i feel every day.

good morning kitty by luciana on WeGIF

noise.

Oh my God.

I cannot believe my neighbors.



They have been overhauling there house since I moved in here. That is all well and good, and the woman that lives there is very nice. HOWEVER, about a month after I moved in, they began working on their garage. Their garage is about 10 feet from my bedroom window. My bed also happens to be directly under said window which happens to have an air conditioner in it which happens to prevent it from ever closing.

It all began with men talking loudly at about 8:30 in the morning outside of my window. This went on for a few days. Then it went to loud banging. Then other construction noises, including very loud radio. Then it moved into our back yard (about 5 feet from my window). At first I got mad, but did nothing about it, because they are our neighbors and I want to continue to have a good relationship with them since I have to live next to them.

Thankfully, the construction would wax and wane allowing me brief moments of restfulness and sanity.

However, several months later when this extremely loud farting noise became the standard torture I would wake up to at 7:15 in the morning, I realized it wasn't the construction anymore. Unless the neighbors let some guy use their garage every morning, then this guy lives there. So, after several weeks of this, I couldn't take it anymore.

I walked over to the neighbor's house in my robe and went up to the garage where the noise was coming from. It stopped. I waited. Nothing. So I began to walk back to my house, and as I reached the back door, it began again. What a cruel, cruel man. So I went back over and knocked on the garage. The noise stopped. I waited. It began again. I knocked again, harder. After about 4 or 5 knocks, it stopped and I heard footsteps. A moment later, someone walked out of the side of the garage. A man, of course, came over to the small fence that separated the driveway from the yard.

I said "hi" and he did too. "My bedroom is right there," I pointed at the window. "Is it too loud?" he said (fucking idiot) "Yeah, its too loud. Could you maybe wait a little while? I mean, unless you have to do this before you get to work." "No, I'll be here all day." "Okay, well if you could wait a little bit, it would be really cool." "Okay." "Thanks." I walk back home and get into bed.

Less than a half an hour later, it begins again. Since then it has begun consistently between 7:00 and 7:30 in the morning.

WHAT THE FUCK PEOPLE?! WHAT THE FUCK!? Everyone in my house works from home to some degree. Part of the nice thing about working from home is that you GET TO SLEEP IN! We all stay up late, not that we are bad people, our schedules are just pushed back.

Sadly, there is no legal recourse for this. Restricted Hours of Construction San Diego Municipal Code Section 59.5.0404 says its okay to start at 7:00 am.


So that's it. I can't wait to fucking move.

Ads

My bro finished my logo (woot!) and I made these ads. I would like comments and suggestions.

home.

Well, we're back.




Tuesday, March 24th

• Drove to Meza, AZ and stayed with Zynda family

Wednesday, March 25th

• Montezuma's Castle
• Camped at Holbrook KOA

Thursday, March 26th

• Painted Desert/Petrified Forest
• Meteor Crater
• Camped at Pine Flats

Friday, March 27th

• Ate in Flagstaff
• Grand Canyon
• Opted out of camping at Mather (16 degree Fahrenheit forecast)
• Stayed at Howard Johnson in Williams

Saturday, March 28th

• Hoover Dam
• Vegas
• Stayed at Arizona Charlie's East
• Walked the strip, gambled, ate all-you-can-eat sushi from 4:00pm until 2:00am

Sunday, March 29th

• Drove home

work.

I should be all done with school...assuming I passed the final.





I spent quite a bit of time this week working on a new cover letter, my resume, and collecting emails and addresses from a bunch of environmental and human rights NGOs. Today, I finally finished printing everything out and putting it all together. I am quite proud of myself. I sent out 8 emails and have 30 letters ready for mailing. Hopefully something will come of it. Even if the NGOs don't want me, they may pass it along to someone who would.

I also came up with a plan for selling my car and buying Emily's (Kris' wife), since he mentioned to me that she wanted to sell hers. I have a 1999 Subaru Legacy Outback and she has a 1987 Toyota Camry station wagon. I like her car a lot and have missed having an old wagon. Hopefully, I will come out with at least 5 grand to pay off a large chunk of my debts in the end. I got the car professionally cleaned today and cleaned out all of my crap. I made little signs to put in the windows and have an ad up on craigslist. Hopefully someone bites.

I have also gotten three leads on selling my surfboard today, which is three more than I have gotten in the past month that I have been trying to get rid of it. I hope that that works out, too. I also have some shirts to do, some stuff to transcribe, and I may be cleaning and organizing a stranger's house tomorrow, so that is all well and good.

school.

This week is my final week of class for my copyediting certification. I need to work really hard this week to complete the final projects. I am very excited to finish. After this, I will only have work. No more school. Woot.

bald.

Shaved the head.


Why?


Change.
Money.
Easy.

surfing.

Or, rather, not.





I have been surfing since my freshman year of high school. So, that would have put me at about fourteen in 1999. I began when my Sunday School teacher, Tressie, invited me to have a lesson with her children. The water was over eighty degrees and clear. I would never feel ocean water this warm again. I did not get up that day, but I knew it was something I wanted to do.

So, my parents bought me an ugly shortboard for fifty bucks. I was a six foot Timpone with atrocious neon splashes across it. I never got up on that board and rode it infrequently until I was sixteen. Then I got a nine foot Iron Cross longboard that, supposedly, got second place in some surf contest in Hawaii. Several times a week, I would load up my boards in my brown 1982 Oldsmobile Custom Cruiser station wagon and drive to the Oceanside peir or Carlsbad power plant, where I would ride the soup for hours.

I always left the shortboard in the car, just in case. It eventually got stolen, since my doors didn't lock. Then, a few months later, my longboard got stolen as well out of my car in my parents' driveway. They were kind enough to spring for a new board, a nine-three longboard by a local shaper. I do not recall what the name was. It was a very plain, but sturdy board. I would take this to the same old spots infrequently and did my best in any conditions in the whitewash.

Eventually, I moved down to San Diego and sold this board for a Pinayo funboard. I think it was seven-two. This was when I really started to surf. I surfed Ocean Beach and Carlsbad as much as I could. I began catching breaking waves and really moved around on them. You could even say that I carved once or twice. I also learned to paddle to the outside, though not far and only when the surf was breaking close to shore.

After a while with the funboard, I could ride any type of board relatively successfully. A few times I went down to the end of Cable Street at low tide and even down to the cliffs with a longboard to paddle out (usually with Manna). I even rode a friend's shortboard extremely well. I carved some peaky waves like I had never carved before.

However, I made a mistake. I went out at the cliffs by myself. There were not a lot of people out, but the last few times had gone fairly successfully (with a bit of pouting and a few tears from anxiety) and I felt brave enough to go on my own. The surf also looked small and was barely breaking as I watched it from atop the cliffs. I paddled out all on my own, which was a feat on the funboard, and waited for the set to come. It came and I was overly cautious as I spent probably an hour barely touching the edge of the breaking section at Garbage.

After a few failed attempts at catching the edge of the break, I found myself in the middle of it. I paddled for a wave that was crumbling behind me. Another surfer that was out saw me go for it and cheered me on. I paddled hard, but as soon as the surf hit the back of my board, it sent my nose under. I was tossed around for about thirty seconds with more force than I had experienced from any wave so far. I popped up no where near by board, but I had a leash and made my way towards it. When I reached it, I saw another wave coming and I dove, since I didn't want to lose control of my board and get hit by it. I was tossed around for what seemed like a full minute and when I resurfaced, another wave rolled right over me as I gasped for air. It rolled me around violently for a while. When I resurfaced, I coughed the water out of my lungs and desperately clawed toward my board.

This left me shaken and drained, but I managed to paddle anxiously to shore. Once there, I rested and calmed myself. I walked slowly back towards the stairs and climbed them, still shaking slightly from the experience.

I didn't surf for a few months. When I got back in the water, I could not bring myself to paddle to the outside. I could not even bring myself to go past where my feet could touch.

I have been like this ever since, with few exceptions (for some reason, calm, peaky storm conditions on overcast days calm this fear and I can go way outside).

I have a panic attack every time a wave over two feet rolls in and my feet aren't planted firmly on the ground. I also panic while underwater for more than twenty seconds, even in the safety of a pool. It is as if I will never resurface or be able to breathe.

So, I have decided to let it go. I still love the ocean, the beach, and surf culture, but I cannot bring myself to surf properly. It is extremely embarrassing looking like its my first or second day of surfing every time I go out.

trippin.

I will be going on a trip soon.





Liz, Kris, and I are going to go on a road trip at the end of March.

We will be going to see a crater in Arizona, the Petrified Forest, the Grand Canyon, the Hoover Dam, and Vegas. We will spend the first night with my family near Phoenix, the next two nights camping near the forest, the following night camping near the canyon, and the last night at a hotel in Vegas.

It should be good fun. I haven't traveled since my trip to Portland and Humboldt last January. That is much too long for me.

blog.

Hello.





Since I don't keep anyone up to date, I figured this would be a good way to do it.

Here is what is going on with me at the moment:

• I am unemployed while attempting to get my Freelance Copy Editing work rolling, with some success. You can find more information at www.wiseowlediting.com.
• I will complete my Copy Editing certification in a few weeks, and I am procrastinating with my final which is due at the end of next week.
  
• I have recently permed my hair, removed my labret (by choice), and let my earring holes shrink (less by choice and more by necessity).
• Health-wise, I am doing well. I have no illnesses that I know of at this moment (for the first time in a long time).
• Turtle, my white corn snake, is doing well, growing large, and becoming a yellow belly.
• I am living with the love of my life, Kristofer, in North Park with two other roommates, Bob and Liz. They are quite fun to spend time with.
• I have been filling my days with job searches, Fable 2, Halo 3, StumbleUpon, some exercising.
• I still skateboard, but I have given up surfing. I finally accepted, after 8 years, that it is not for me. I am too scared to move further since the incident at the cliffs.

That is all I can think of for now. I will try to write more tomorrow.