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When It Rains It…

Posted in Anger, Dating, Life, News From Lisanti Land, tagged California, Chris Lisanti, love, pain, Relationships, Santa Barbara, Surfing, Ventura, Wild Cat on March 19, 2016| 6 Comments »

Photo: Christopher Dunlea

When it rains it pours, shit runs down hill and all that jazz. The last time I wrote something here I was rather optimistic about life and the world; my life specifically. OPTIMISM!!! What word, what a dangerous mother fucking word. It implies that with good thoughts, feelings and hopes good things will be brought about. Maybe this works for some people. No one I know in particular, but some delusional idiot out there lives by this crap.

Even a pessimistic realist like myself falls into these optimistic ideals on occasion. It always happens to me when my life starts actually turning around. Then again had life really turned around for me or was I just starting to believe the lies in order to come to grips with the settlement my life had become? There were the lies I told myself and the ones that the machine of conformity claimed would bring me happiness. I am one for total honesty when it comes to oneself, but then again there are times when one needs to believe his own lies in order to accomplish certain goals and ultimately in this mess of an oxymoron a new truth may be achieved.

While I am at it let’s briefly touch on how I feel about the idea of happiness. I have always subscribed to the thoughts of Aldous Huxley “Happiness is never grand…Actual happiness always looks pretty squalid in comparison with the over-compensations for misery. And of course, stability isn’t nearly so spectacular as instability. And being contented has none of the glamour of a good fight against misfortune, none of the picturesqueness of a struggle with temptation, or a fatal overthrow by passion or doubt…Happiness is never grand.” This quotation is basically how my life has played out since birth. If you have been reading here a while then you know. If not, feel free to indulge yourself for I am not going to bore myself or my loyal readers with my own redundancy (that’s a fucking joke). Shit I have not written anything for months so I suppose I need to make it count.

Ah the sweetness of adversity Photo: Christopher Dunlea

Now that we got all that philosophical crap out of the way lets get into exactly what has happened in my life over the past four months. Believe me a lot must have been going on if I was left nearly speechless by it all. Some one who existed briefly, yet had a major impact on my life recently said that she found it rather odd that I only share the good side of things on my social media. Clearly she never read this blog for I am the anti-hero of my own story, a modern Sydney Carton waiting to give his life for his beloved Lucie Manette. Fuck how often am I positive about myself here? To be honest the pain, misery and suffering I had been going through had me so mentally crippled I was for once in my life at a loss of words or at the very least decent words to delineate my situation. I also have to blame El Nino as well cause if you frequently read the surflog or just surf in California you know how good it has been here in the 805.

Oh it’s been fun! Photo Christoper Dunlea

I guess the best place to begin my tale is in the middle of October. At this point of my life everything was looking splendid and grand. Things at work were going well. I had recently got a solid raise. My bosses were pumped on me. I had the respect and esteem of all of my employees. The food we were producing was in my opinion the best we ever had done in my six year tenure at the college. I was working with my best friend Bizarro and watching him develop as a cook, which gave me a real sense of kin. Life was good.

Yet there was something missing I just couldn’t put my finger on. Although production was at an all time high, quality good and waste low I still knew we could do better. I live by the code of the samurai striving for complete perfection and mastery of whatever I wish to consummate. “So many aspire to greatness yet so few succeed.” Maybe I got too full of myself. My ego can be a bit ridiculous at times. I might have pushed the kitchen and management too hard. I don’t really know how it all fell apart, though looking back now I have an idea. We are not there yet and I don’t want to get ahead of myself. I may not have wrote for a bit, but I think upon the conclusion of this piece you be happy I waited.

I will stand by my food with my life.

“Hindsight is 20/20” and in life I have always had eagle eyes. Like I said work was good. Life was good. I was surfing a bunch and well. Biz and I were shooting tons of photos. On the party scene I finally climbed to the top of my circle. It certainly helped having a bit of disposable income around. In my personal life I wised up to a certain entity that had been bringing me down for years. It wasn’t her fault or mine we just kept ignoring the writing on the wall and our own good sense. Certain instances took place that I am not going to mention, but opened my eyes and saw that as a couple we were never going to go anywhere and although we had found a livable groove that could have went on for another five years, I needed more.
party1 I’m a romantic, a Shakespearean, an avid reader of Jane Austin. For these reasons alone I could no longer exist in a relationship of convenience. Finally after spending the bulk of September agonizing over what to do I took a deep breath and cut the cord. I emotionally freed myself from the cage I put myself in two and a half years ago. Man, it was scary. As most of you know I am not a person who does well alone. One thing I have always held true to is that I would much rather be alone for the right reasons then with some one for the wrong reasons. Loneliness, vulnerability and depravity by themselves are not good enough reasons to pursue a life with another if there is no magic. Thus I walked away standing tall and proud of the decision I made.

Once again I found myself single. The dating world had changed quite a bit from when I was in the game. It is very possible that I had changed a bit too, now in my mid thirties and having very different needs and wants then I ever had before. For the first time in my life the thought a family crossed my mind when meeting a woman. I wanted someone I didn’t have to save or constantly help get out of trouble. I didn’t want to regularly have to turn negative vibes into positive ones. I really wanted to learn from my past. Luckily I analyze the shit out of my life and especially my romantic escapades.

I wasn’t perfect either. In the past I had ruined more then one possible great relationship by being a total ass, selfish, immature or all three. My temper has always been a problem. I am Italian after all and we are very passionate people in all aspects of our life. Temper is definitely a flaw I am most guilty of. Over the years I have made great efforts to control such. There is still a long way to go. We are all works in progress till death comes knocking at that door, probably sooner then later for me.

Ultimately I wanted a relationship with more substance, a person with more substance. I wanted someone in the industry. People in my field constantly work crazy hours, nights, weekends, holidays. This makes having a relationship with someone in the 9-5 world nearly impossible. When you are off they are working. When they are off you are working. When you get off at 10 pm you want to drink a glass of wine, maybe go out, eat a meal. The 9-5’er is already in bed. On the weekends when they want to rage most likely a member of the hospitality industry isn’t getting off till midnight. It becomes a real strain on both parties.

I thought about other cooks or chefs, but we all have egos and mine is heavier then most. I knew unless I found the most passive chef we would kill each other. I put my sights on the front of the house, waitresses, hostesses, bartenders, managers, etc. Also let it be said I wanted at least six months to pass before I met anyone else. Even though my former relationship had been technically dead when we broke off our engagement nearly a year prior we still stayed together for another year of emotional dolor. By all psychological accounts I needed time to heal.

Day in and day out I went upon my everyday. As much as I hated the world of internet dating I got back on that horse again to no more avail then I had the first go around. The difference was I had grown a thicker skin and didn’t really take anything too seriously. If I met someone cool, awesome and if not at least I got out of the house and made a new possible connection. One should try to make at least six contacts a day according to many very successful people at life in general. I had a bit of fun with it all this time around. Why not have fun? We only get one go around.

My life was good. That almost brings us up to the fated blog of optimism I published on November 17th 2015: “A Fresh Start“. Not quite entirely, not even a little bit. During the aforementioned foray with dating through a digital medium I managed to meet someone whom I began to feel rather smitten for. I believe she did as well. The chemistry between us was about the best I have ever felt between a member of the opposite sex and myself. We had enough in common to be compatible, though not so much as for it to get boring. There were complimentary strengths and weaknesses existing among us as to be advantageous to both. The two of us looked good together as a couple both having impeccable fashion sense and good taste (yeah mostly her, my tastes are still very much on the Guido side of things. You know the saying: “take the kid out of Jersey, but never take the Jersey out of the kid”).

Like I said “Guido”

We genuinely got along. With all of these aspects of a budding romance in play I decided to legitimately pursue the relationship breaking my six month rule I had set earlier. There will always exist a spoiler to such rules in this life. For that spoiler always has been if I think I met someone who could actually be “the one”. Cupid doesn’t time when he shoots his arrows and I have let plenty of opportunities for love pass me by cause I ignored his call in order to sort out a different directive. The impetuous modern day version of Romeo I can be at times threw all caution to the wind and went for it. By the time I posted “A Fresh Start” I was very much in love and in the midst of a torrid romance.

For weeks I was in a blissful rouse of jovial spirit. As a matter of fact I couldn’t remember a time when I was more happy. Its funny how amazing life is when you feel everything is going your way. I didn’t have a care in the world. Nothing lasts forever and as fast as love had come to me that was as fast the pitiful wrath of its ending also abounded. How it all came crashing down at such a hastened pace was beyond me and the downward spiral it would cause was soon to be realized…

Photo: Christopher Dunlea

Stay tuned for more of this most recent saga of my life soon….

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The Final Jaunt: Big Sur Part IV

Posted in Cooking, Dating, Life, Surfing, tagged Big Sur, Carmel, Charlie Chaplin Wall Art. Chris Lisanti is a surf addict and a terrible person. Whooot, Mill Creek, Surfing on August 4, 2014| 4 Comments »

Carmel Beach

***Initially this trip took place in February, my lazy and busy ass never got around to finishing the saga. I have a moment right now and am about to do such. I am going to attempt to write it as things were experienced and feelings that were felt then, despite my attitudes on certain issues are at press time. If you are a surflog reader keep that in mind if you feel my mood inconsistent with such. If you have just stumbled upon this piece and want to be brought up to speed before continuing on or need to refresh your memory on where we left off check out Part 1: Big Sur, A Land of Endless Possibility , Part 2: Blind Exploration , Part 3: Testing the Waters. Its old and dated, but worth the read so enjoy.***

Ahh the beauty of the wilderness.

My final day up in Big Sur country I was besides myself on what to do and how to make the most of it. It’s true that few people, with the exception of my father can pack as much activities in a trip as I can or a day for that matter. Don’t get me wrong, few can be as lazy as me either. I can spend three hours sitting on the couch staring into space. It just depends on the particular day, week or year. At the moment I have been in high out put mode leaving little time for nothing days.

In all truth I wanted to run around looking for more surf. Isn’t that always the agenda when surfing is involved? One of the surfing’s rule book main rules is “never bring your girl friend on a surf trip if you really want to score”. I have never really toted around a non-surfing girl friend before and had no experience with such. Normally if she doesn’t surf then we always travel separately. It sounds a bit selfish, I know, but as I wrote in the very first installment of this Big Sur saga I have a surfing problem. Surfing always comes first, always. No point in me ruining her trip or her ruining mine.

Thus far this trip had been the same thing. What I had initially wanted to be a semi-romantic weekend and a way for us to try and do some relationship damage control after the incident on my birthday (see the February2014, the 2-2 and 2-3 entries) began with me dragging Heather all over the coast trying to find some kill-able surf. In her defense she was a good sport about the whole thing. Feeling a bit guilty I decided that we could drive into Carmel on our last day. She mentioned multiple times (woman have a way of doing this) that she would like to go there. Besides I figured that there was beach there too and where there is a beach there are probably some surf-able waves.

Making the most of the meager offerings at Carmel Beach

I also had not realized that the drive up to Carmel was only about thirty minutes or so making it very do-able. After two days of being in the woods I was about ready for some civilization anyway. We got there uneventfully, though scenically whimsical. Being the asshole I am I managed to get us right to the beach. Coastal access signs might as well be like a dog whistle for a surfer. We pulled up to this really grand beach. It was as gorgeous as a beach could be. The sand was bleached white, the ocean was a coral blue, to the north was nothing but the green of a golf course and all around were these lavish estates. It looked like a scene out of “Life styles of the Rich and Famous”.

People say Santa Barbara is Beautiful and it certainly is, but I think Carmel has us beat. Really, what I think it is, is the fact that it rains there so everything is green all your round, while here in SB we go through long periods of brown. This particular beach also had a wave that was not bad. The wind was sort of side shore/off shore and surf was about cheat high plus with A-Frames. There were a handful of people scattered up and down the beach. I was on it.

One of the many section floaters I did to get me to more close out.

As I was stretching on the beach some “local” tried to give me some shit about going back to Santa Barbara (J7 is a Santa Barbara brand). He yelled some hardly audible bull shit at me. I looked at him, waved and smiled and then paddle out about a 100 yards down the beach from him and his buddies. Like I said there were peaks up and down the beach all rather similar looking. I saw no point in causing a raucous. I got a few, but it was a little more walled then I would have liked it to be and all the sets were closed out with few corners. I did a quickie as to not piss off Heather too much. I was also interested in seeing a bit of the town.

The main drag, Carmel.

I was really impressed by the town of Carmel. Cleanliness wise it was so much nicer then Santa Barbara. I saw very few homeless. The place just felt a bit more classy to me all around. I think it is because Santa Barbara is really broken into three shopping sections, Downtown, Montecito and Upper State, while in Carmel they just have a few block radius. I am not being a hater on SB, it is my home after all, I just think if we could clean up some of the bums and panhandling on State Street it might class the town up a bit.

Carmel

We meandered about the town for a bit taking in all the sights there were to see. It was mostly just strolling along window shopping considering the fact that we could not afford to eat or buy anything due to the upscale nature of the town. It was nice to take in some of the architecture and enjoy all the little parks through out the town. I would call it time well spent.

Large fig tree in Carmel.

Cool Charlie Chaplin painting we came across on our walk about.

It was getting late. I wanted to check out the Mission, but we also had a long drive back to Santa Barbara ahead of us. It would have to wait for another trip. I am always fine with leaving something more to do. The plan was to stop at the local grocer in town and pick up supplies to do a little beach front BBQ on this chill little spot I found along the PCH the previous night. It seemed a great spot for a sunset BBQ. I noticed there was also the possibility of some surf potential too. Always the ulterior surfing motive.

The problem with doing a BBQ when you have nothing is the fact that you need to get everything or get innovative. The food was the easy part. I bought a pair of cheap tongs and found some plastic silverware. I still need a cutting device. I bought a pack of razor blade edges for a buck. It would do. I got some veggies, two nice steaks, some mesquite and strawberries for dessert. It was on.
We got to my little spot and sure enough not only was it the pristine picnic spot I had thought, but it was all I had hoped in a surf spot and more. I had stumbled upon the wave completely by accident the previous day when Heather had to use the restroom. I had found a Big Sur Emma Wood. From the actual picnic area the surf spot is invisible. If you follow a little dirt path, cross a small creek, you will come around a head land into a small cove about 400 yards wide. The cove had cliffs on both sides and some boulders on the outside to the south. The entire cove was protected from the wind.

I am sure in a rainier season this creek runs a bit faster. On this day it was easy crossing.

At the southern corner of the bay there was a left coming in that looked more then kill-able. It would feather off the outside boulders before standing up on the inside sand bar creating an end section that is a high performance surfer’s dream. Airs, hits, reverses, anything was possible and the best part was the landing was in sand. There was even a right that the left would reform into on the other side of the peak. I stuck mainly to the left. I had a fucking ball. It was not bigger then head high, but super fun. I bet with the right wind it would barrel.
I had an hour of light left and the cove was situated perfectly for evening light too. Heather pulled out the telephoto and ran off a few shots while I went to town. Sure it was a little on the crazy side to go surf some off the beaten path spot in the middle of shark land during peak feeding hour, but how could I not go slay some peaks. It ended up being the best surf of my trip so I am glad I did.
After the surf I lit up the grill and cooked a fine meal of roasted vegetables and steak. We even indulged in a nice bottle of syrah though I was only able to take one glass off of it since I had to drive us home. It was a great ending to an interesting and fun trip. While most couples were spending Valentines Day at some restaurant that was over crowded and staff over worked spinning their wheels for an oblivious clientele who were duped in going out as a result of a made up holiday, my chick and I spent it eating in the sunset and drinking under the stars. I even bought her a rose while she was waiting in line at the butcher counter and surprised her with it at the table. Sometimes even a scoundrel like myself can be romantic.
On a final note I would like to say that I was very taken with Big Sur and will certainly be looking to spend some more time there in the near future. The surf potential is really endless. All your ability to score is dependent on is your commitment, dedication, time and level of crazy. I for one plan on making many more surf excursions to this special piece of the California Coast.

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Testing the Water: Big Sur Part III

Posted in Dating, Life, Surfing, tagged Big Sur, Chris Lisanti needs to learn that a 5'10 is not the best weapon for every surf situation, Cold, Fog, Jade Cove, Mill Creek, Sand Dollar Beach, Sharks, Surfing on May 11, 2014| 6 Comments »

***If you have just stumbled upon this piece and want to be brought up to speed before continuing on or need to refresh your memory on where we left off as a result of my lack of diligence and procrastination as a blogger check out Part 1: Big Sur, A Land of Endless Possibility and Part 2: Blind Exploration***

This wave definitely looked kill-able and from what I could tell although I was rather high up on a cliff. I have learned many of time in my life that it always looks twice as inviting from a hundred feet up or so. I eve had an idea on how I could get down to it involving an annoying but not terrible hike. If I had a keen surf bud with me and not a girlfriend in tow I think I would have went for it. Next time...

This wave definitely looked kill-able from what I could tell although I was rather high up on a cliff. I have learned many of times in my life that it always looks twice as inviting from a hundred feet up or so. I even had an idea on how I could get down to it involving an annoying but not terrible hike. If I had a keen surf bud with me and not a girlfriend in tow I think I would have went for it. Next time…

Finally after much traversing south down the Pacific Coast Highway 1 we came upon a small nondescript parking lot that by location appeared to maybe be Sand Dollar Beach. I would also like to note that I had began to notice for the past few miles lots of areas that appeared to be surf-able while driving past. Sand Dollar, being completely unmarked happened to be the first parking area I came to since I had started to see lots of surf. I pulled up to a gate house that was closed, though the lot was open with an honor box for the $5 parking fee. I was at a loss to understand what exactly I was paying five bucks for considering it was an unprotected beach, and unattended parking lot with no amenities other then a sketch ass water less prison style bathroom.

Its funny that in a place as remote as Big Sur there is still room to have your money taken from you around every corner. I was surprised a fucking squirrel didn’t try and extort ten dollars from me to watch my car and “keep it safe”. Whatever, at this point my long search was over and surf was found. Just to be sure I ran half way down the trail to the beach to make sure it was surf-able before donating my five smackers. Yes, I am that fucking cheap.

The $5 view. Certainly far from epic, but it was clean and surf-able. I was on it.

By this time it was early afternoon and a rather splendid one at that, especially for central California. The sun was still out and the temperature warm. Heather and I were stoked to spend a chill afternoon on the beach. I pulled both my boards, my 5’10 and my 6’1 step up. With no one out and nothing around except for huge cliffs and rock formations I had no way of gauging how big it was out there. I don’t know what it is about once one gets above Point Conception, but all scale for actual wave size and power are out the window for me. I guess I am and always will be a pampered Southern California surfer.

I love when I am about to paddle out at a surf spot and am greeted with a warm sign like this…

We loaded up and headed down a trail about 200 yards or so down to the beach. As we descended down to the beach I was able to get a better lay of the land. As far as wave height, I still had no idea. Could be head high, could be double overhead. I would find out soon enough. After coming down a few flights of stairs we found ourselves standing in the middle of a large beach closed in by a massive cliff headland to the north corner and a series of copious rock formations to the south end. The sand was of an almost dark green pigment.

I pulled out my step up since now at beach level the surf was with out a doubt a bit more size able then I had initially intended. I did not know for certain, yet estimated that it was surely over head on the outside. In a futile attempt to get the lay of the land I took a walk to the south side of the beach to see if there was anything with more shape then what the break had to offer. Maybe I would find some tucked away reef or wedge between or even inside of the rock formations. I found nothing of the sort, but between two of these enormous rocks was a deep water channel that looked as though it could provide an easy paddle to the outside.

Unsure of the potential hazards of taking that route I decided against it. I really had no idea what was under the water there and to be honest did not want to find out. The paddle out from the middle of the beach where we laid camp looked annoying and long, but seemed to me to be the safest way to go. Also I have a saying I have always lived by my entire surfing life by: “if you cant make the paddle out through the impact zone then you have no business being out there”. This mantra I especially try and hold to in places where clear channels exist. The last thing any one who surfs should do is put himself/herself in a situation that is beyond said surfer’s skill or fitness level. If you can’t handle the beating it takes to make it from the beach then you probably should not be out there in the first place. I have seen and even saved one kook too many that got in over his head as a result of an easy channel access.

Sand Dollar Beach looking toward the north side.

Keep in mind that the place was pretty deserted aside from one or two other couples on the beach. The one dude that did have a board with him, had a long board and was bailing. Judging from the conditions I assume he had a look and decided to not paddle. Ironically the place is pretty much written up as the most user friendly beach for surfing in all of Big Sur, maybe with a jet ski. It looked far from friendly, cold and a lot of work for little reward seemed more like it. While exploring the beach I found all these pale greenish little rocks rounded and smooth from the ocean that looked like jade. I am pretty sure it wasn’t although I read later on some where that Sand Dollar Beach is also called Jade cove because of the green stones that litter the beach. People do on occasion actually find pieces of jade down there. Whether the few I took with me are jade or not is beyond me. They looked cool and fancied by them I slipped the little green rocks into my pocket and walked back to where Heather was chilling.

By this point I didn’t know what to do. As I was watching it the surf conditions were steadily becoming more rough by the minute even though the wind was dead still. Literally ten minutes prior it was glassy. Big Sur, go figure. The sensible part of me was ready to bag it. I didn’t come up to Big Sur to surf anyhow and at least I tried. It had been a fun a day. Why not just hang out and enjoy the beach with my girl? Unfortunately the obsessive compulsive side got the best of me and I found myself suiting up for no other reason then the fact that I was there and the initial objective was to get wet and that was exactly what was going to happen. I for whatever reason decided to put my step up away and pull my 5’10.

An unexpected yet exactly what I expected of the Big Sur surfing experience. Big, windy, scary conditions with no one out but me.

Making the most out of the mess that it was out there.

I walked to the water’s edge all suited up hood and all. I figured the water had to be cold and with nothing but white water as far as the eye could see I knew I was going to be spending more time under the water then on top of it. The waves were breaking way out side as I began to work my way through the first inner bar. Then I moved on to the second. By the time I cleared this I had no idea where I was. The current was all over the place. From that vantage I had a good look at what the outside had on offer. Overall it looked like a bunch of giant close outs that I did not have enough board under me to even deal with. Meanwhile the second bar I was sitting on was offering some head to over head reform that was pretty sick looking and way cleaner then the outside. It was a bit hard to line up with all the turbulence and current, but I made the most of what there was to surf. I figured at the very least it was worth a twenty count. Heather had the camera out and somehow managed to get a few shots despite all the mess.
Believe it or not it was not as cold out there as it looked. After an hour or so of working my arms in search of kill-able reform and figuring I pushed the shark attack envelope enough for one day I opted to call it quits. I accomplished my goal and found a few waves. I also learned a bit about the erratic and volatile conditions of Big Sur. In particular an age old lesson I get constantly schooled on whenever I am north of Santa Barbara is that the surf is always way bigger, way meaner, way trickier, way more powerful then it looks from the beach. You think by now after all my travels, trials and tribulations this would have hit home by now. It never does though proving Einstein’s definition of insanity: doing the same thing over again and expecting different results. I sort of feel like that is exactly what surfing is all about. Sometimes we do get different results. Maybe surfing is insanity?

A brief moment of victory in a session that was for the most part filled with defeat.

I floated in stoked to have gotten wet and ready to make the most out of what was left of the day with Heather. To her credit she took all of the surf photos of that I have used in this piece. Who would have thought a chick from Ohio with no beach or surf background could manage to snag some decent pics? Go figure. I came in and shed off my neoprene. It was still warm and sunny on the beach. Since I never have to time to actually hang out and relax on the beach at home this mini vacation was the perfect time.

I thought I left the hood behind along with New Jersey. Cold water is still cold water.

My plans of a nice sunny afternoon on the beach were quickly thwarted by a crazy dense fog that rolled in with the blink of an eye. With this fog came a very eerie bone chilling cold air. That was it for us, we were done. Heather and I packed up and headed back to the car. Both our tummies were rumbling for a repast back at the cabin in front of the fire place. Of course we had absolutely no food and no idea where we could buy the antipasto spread we were looking to enjoy with our wine. Our first stop was this chill bakery/restaurant ironically called “The Big Sur Bakery and Restaurant, where we procured a cup full of fresh local olives and two specialty croissants. I figured just in case we find nothing else at the very least we could make a meal out of that. I must say from the little I saw and ate from there I would highly recommend and I will with out a doubt stop there my next time through.

The warm fire we couldn’t wait to get in front of. Unlike the broken hot tub that let us down.

Then we came across a bull shit deli/market that was technically hardly one or the other. One thing I will tell you about Big Sur the scenery may be free, but everything else is far from it. Be prepared to pay top dollar for everything. Even though its only 30 miles from Carmel one would think it was on the fucking moon with how over priced everything is. Long story short (ha, that’s a laugh with anything I tell) we spent a combined $70 on olives, croissants, a cucumber, two tomatoes, cheese, salami, prosciutto, bread sticks and a bottle of syrah(which was one of the cheaper purchases). That being said I made a pretty bad ass antipasto platter that paired great with the wine. It was excellent way to end a fun day of adventuring.

Day two of our fun tilled Big Sur adventure was over. Tune in next time for part 4 of this epic saga of a romantic getaway gone wild! Well as romantic as a trip with a surfer can possibly be. I promise more great pictures and maybe even some tamer surf? Find out in Part IV: The Final Juant.

A glimpse of what is to come…a northern Emma Wood?

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Big Sur, A Land of Endless Possibility (Part I: The Journey)

Posted in Dating, Life, Surfing, tagged Big Sur, California, Central California, ear, Fuck Bitch ass teenage kids who suck at surfing but think their good and piss me off, Hearst Castle, Killer Whales, New Jetty, North, North California, San Luis Obispo, Seals, Sharks, Surfing, Ventura, Wilderness on March 23, 2014| 4 Comments »

The North Side of Point Sur. Notice the sick little left hander in the background. I will only say this about the photo, it was shot about a mile away. Translation, that wave is way bigger then it looks! Harder to get too as well.

There is a place just north of San Simeon, and south of Carmel that will change one’s perspectives on life in general. A mere seventy some odd miles of coastline, Big Sur is an expanse of vistas and adventure locked into a desolate speck of California that is awe inspiring. I am a person who has traversed a large part of the coastal world, seen and experienced many amazing things in my life time. What I came across on my recent trip into Big Sur left my mind blown and my heart longing for a simpler life. My inner yearning for an existence beyond the reaches of man was once again rekindled. An answer was posed to the question: “There must be a better way?”.
For over ten years I have been avoiding this seemingly daunting stretch of coastline. “Don’t waste your time with Big Sur if you want to surf” said one surf guide. “The only true locals are the sharks and their brand of localism will kill you” said another. I even found a statistic claiming the only killer Whale attack in North America ever recorded on a human happened in Big Sur to a knee boarder. Throw in gnarly erratic weather, frigid water and heavy fog and lets just say I was always far from eager to make my way through. The only time I travel up the coast is to get waves and rather then waste it and swell on a shot in the dark I have always focused my energy between Monterey and San Mateo Counties where the options and score probability are way better.

The last time I actually did drive the PCH down Big Sur was with my parents. It was night time, the fog was so thick I could barely see five feet in front of me. Both my Mom and Dad were passed out, while I clung to the edge of my seat, my ass so tight it could turn coal into diamonds, traversing this crazy windy road with sheer death at times on either side if I was to make a wrong move and go off the road. When we finally got to San Simeon, our projected destination it was two and a half hours later to go eighty miles and I was so wound up I needed a fucking drink. Of course the liquor store was closed and the bull shit motel had no mini bar. I found myself frantically knocking at the night manager’s office to see if he had a nip. Lucky for me most night auditors are drunks and the guy was stoked to share a flask of whisky with me.

Bixby Creek Bridge, pretty in the day light, but at night with intense fog an easy way to die.

Fast forward back to recently, Heather and I had been talking about doing one of those cliche romantic couple get-a-away type trips for sometime. Truth be told I had never really been on such a trip before and thought maybe I have been cheating myself all these years. Also I never have dated the type of woman who would have been interested in such. Lets face it most of my romantic dealings with women are lucky to last past dropping her off in the morning. This whole serious relationship thing has been completely new ground for me with a harsh fucking learning curve. Fuck I thought getting proficient at surfing was tough. It’s a cake walk compared to this.

We decided that we would get a little place somewhere in the woods for a few days in February as sort of a birthday gift/engagement gift. I wanted to go someplace beyond the reaches of both cell phones and internet. I really was interested to get away and have some quality one on one time with my lady sans interruptions from the rest of the world. Whatever the needs of the real world wanted it would have to wait a few days. Originally the plan was to go find some snow and get a little cabin up in the mountains somewhere. Then Heather mentioned Big Sur and around that same time a friend of mine from back east had just recently spent some time there and had a rather good time with his girl.

I wanted to try and leave surfing out of the equation as best as possible. Those of you who are or know die hard surfers know that if you put a surfer near the coast with a chance of scoring waves it will consume him no matter what the initial objective of the trip was. As I stated earlier I had not ever really considered Big Sur for a surfing destination thus leaving it in the scope of a potential destination. We managed to find a cute little cabin in the woods just as we had hoped. I decided to pack a step up and a 5’10 just in case. The idea of surfing Big Sur was more of a novelty then anything else to me.

An unexpected yet exactly what I expected of the Big Sur surfing experience. Big, windy, scary conditions with no one out but me.

Just like that the trip was set for February 12-14th. Believe me going away for Valentine’s Day was not part of my plan and only painstakingly added to the utter cliche of the whole endeavor. Trust me I cringe at the thought of Valentines Day. Fuck I wrote a great little piece on the whole fake Holiday: “#@%% Valentine’s Day“. You can click the link to visit that blog for some fun Lisanti anger blindly targeted at yet another bull shit day. I must say I was rather looking forward to the trip all things considered. I never get to do anything different these days being I am so locked into the monotony of my daily routine. Heather and I rarely get any real quality alone time together either, considering our very contrasting schedules and lives.

The Journey North

The plan was to leave early in the morning Wednesday the 12th and slowly work our way up Pacific Coast Highway taking in whatever sights came our way. I hate rushing anywhere when I am on vacation. Half the fun of taking a road trip some place is the act of getting there. I have been on some trips where the actual process of getting there turned out to be more fun then the actual objective. Of course thanks impart to an impromptu dinner engagement the previous evening and bit too much wine those great laid plans of an early departure were all but forgotten.

Instead I decided to go surf New Jetty considering that Heather was still fast asleep, not packed or ready to embark upon an early north mission. When God closes a door he opens a window after all and in this case it was meager but rip-able new Jetty where I managed to get into an altercation with some stupid kid. So maybe it wasn’t such a great window after all. Still I got a few. I you feel so inclined you can read about that bull shit session in the February SurfLog, the 2-12 entry.

New Jetty living it up in the worlds best average wave and winner of the “better then nothing” category.

In classic Lisanti fashion we did not get on the road till around 2 pm. Not that it was a really big deal or anything. At that point I had come to the terms with the fact that it was going to be long past dark before we made it to Big Sur. My only worry was the difficulty of finding the cabin considering the remoteness of it’s location. Then again I figured we could cross that bridge when we came to it and it would only add to the adventure. The only positive thing about the late start was not having to worry about traffic since it’s pretty desolate up north and we were timed perfect to just miss the start of rush hour in Santa Maria and the end of it in San Luis Obispo. The trip was smooth sailing all the up.

When we got into SLO I headed for the coast. The wind appeared to be on it, but I had that st small hope of being able to find something to surf for feeding hour. Morro Bay was all blown out. One guy was paddling the State Beach there, but conditions were far from inviting. Rather then waste time getting all cold and frustrated attempting to surf trash I decided to keep cruising while day light was available. Plus I was hoping to get up to this beach just north of Hearst Castle that is one of the largest elephant seal rookeries along the central coast. I had missed it on my last trip.

The iconic Morro Rock, Morro Bay

We weaved our way up the coast in the waning light in all its golden red splendor. The ocean was on one side and the vast coastal hills to the other. Everything had all the makings of a perfect sunset and I hate wasting one. I found a chill little spot to pull over just under Point Piedras Blancas. There we watched the sun slowly sink beyond the horizon into the ocean. Behind us was the silhouette of Hearst Castle sitting on its hill top perch. Every time I see that impressive structure I cannot help but imagine what it must have been like to watch a sunset from one of the many verandas there. Nothing puts a day in perspective for me better then a good sunset.

Hearst Castle, a must visit if one finds himself on the Central Coast.

Luckily for us the beach with all of the seals was only a few miles away and we got there with just enough twilight left to see the scene. As soon as I stepped out of the car I was greeted with the craziest seal sounds I had ever heard. There was barking, screaming, cooing, snickering, snorting and howling. It was almost comical. Then I got to the bluff and the entire beach was littered with seals. It was rather entertaining and if not for the darkness and intense cold I think I could have stayed there for hours. The show had to go on and we were still a good few hours from our targeted destination.

For awhile there was nothingness as far as the eye could see. At most times I was the only car on the road in the darkness. After a good forty minutes of driving we entered the southern most part of Big Sur, Ragged Point. There was a small little resort area there called, you guessed it, “Ragged Point”. Thinking it might be our last look at civilization for God knows how long I decided we should stop and see about getting dinner. I also would like to mention that I forgot to grab my Central California Tour Guide book, only grabbing my surf guide and the weakest on of the three I had at that. Figuratively and literally in the dark we decided a bird in the hand was better then two in the bush.

The restaurant there was certainly bit on the fancy and pricier side than I was hoping for. Beggars can’t be choosers and in the rush of our late departure I also failed to pack adequate groceries for a journey into the uncivilized unknown. I pride myself on my ability to understand the terrain I am entering on any trip I decide to take on. I was this time around distracted by other stupidity going on in my life prior to departure and therefore found myself completely unprepared and thus had to wing it. Alone I don’t really have a problem with that, but with Heather in tow I felt a bit more uptight and nervous of our situation.

My expectations for this place was that I was going to shell out a lot of money for a less then stellar meal. Believe it or not I was rather shocked at the quality and portion size of our food. Heather ordered a very tasty sauteed jumbo scallop dish and I had a Lobster Pot Pie that easily had six ounces of lobster in it and was so tasty I considered stopping in on my way home. Whatever the case if your ever in Big Sur I highly recommend stopping for at least one meal at the Ragged Point Dinning Room.

After a our splendid meal it was back on the road for us. We were graced with a full moon and a very clear night making driving conditions as good as could be asked for in Big Sur. Seriously the moon was so bright I could nearly seemas good as if it were day. We drove the windy road in and out of the craggy coast line. About thirty minutes in I decided to pull over and have a look at my surroundings. Heather was sound asleep in the passenger seat as I stepped out onto the seaside cliff and looked out. Everything looked amazing in the silvery moon light. I had not seen so many stars since my tenure in New Zealand. The ocean was shimmering as the waves crashed in and out of the cliffs below. There was some type of rock formation out in the ocean as well that was just getting pounded by the force of the waves. It was a surreal moment and reminded me just how lucky it was to be alive to experience such an amazing moment of solitude.

Our Cabin was about another half hour or so in the actual town of Big Sur. When we got there it was after ten and everything was closed and not a person was stirring. The cabin was off the Highway 1 down a non-nondescript dirt road. Basically what this came down to is that the road was near impossible to find. I was given the most vague directions possible: “look for a big tree with a group of mail boxes near it. Road is passable by all vehicles but may be seem intimidating if your not used to country roads.” This is all I had to go by.

After almost thirty minutes of driving around in circles I finally came to what I thought to be the road up to the cabin. “Accessible by all Vehicles”, well I guess that is a different understanding for different people. In my little Civic coupe that is very low to the ground this muddy, rocky, root filled, pot hole ridden excuse for a road seemed like it was going to be near impossible. Coming into to it we passed a rusted out tow truck and a beat up atv. We figured that must be the Calvary to help get guest out who get stuck.

Our cute little cabin in the woods.

This creepy ass road through the woods in the dark with no one in sight just had a very “Deliverance” sort of feel to it. Then to make matters worse the road began to climb at like an 18% grade. How my car made it was beyond me. Sure she bottomed out a few times, but came through no worse for the wiser. We finally got in front of this cabin and it is full on looking a bit like “The Evil Dead”. I was waiting for Bruce Campbell to show up with a chainsaw attached to his arm and start hacking away at the rape tree. Actually it was a cute little cabin and I think both of us were very happy to get inside. As soon as we were settled I built us a warm fire, which we wasted no time in snuggling down in front of.

Nothing rewards a long journeys end like a warm fire.

From there it was into bed for us with excitement for what adventures tomorrow would hold. I was hoping to find some waves. Both of us were interested to see all the sights that we missed arriving in the dark. Among all things it was nice to leave all of our troubles of the real world behind and fins a little time in seclusion with just us and nature. In my opinion you cant ask for much more out of life then that.

For more Big Sur Adventuring check out Part II!!!!!!!

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My World Turned Upside Down: Part Two of “I Still Wear My Heart on My Sleeve”

Posted in Dating, Life, tagged Dating, Despair, Fate, Heart Break, Lost Love, love, pain, Sadness on November 26, 2013| 12 Comments »

Human existence is one of those entities I find so mysterious and utterly intriguing. Everyone is so different yet at the same time so alike. I just don’t understand anything about the world around me most of the time and as I get older care less to know. It seems the more I try to figure out whats going on the more lost and frustrated I become. Instead I try and go along for the ride and see how life unfolds around me acting and reacting accordingly.

That is exactly what I decided to do that faithful Thursday evening back in October and where we last left off a little over a week ago. Camus wrote a very intriguing short story entitled The Stranger about a wrongfully accused and convicted man the night before his scheduled execution. The whole premise of the story is him coming to terms with excepting the fact that he is powerless in his situation to alter his fate and that he is going to die. Once this is realized he becomes rather at ease.

As I stood in front of my bathroom mirror, razor in hand, suit laid out on my bed that was just what went through my head. I was prepared to except my fate no matter what the outcome may have been. If I was to show up and meet Heather then I really had no control over what was going to happen. In the end it was to be her call. I needed it to be. I didn’t want to sell her on me, plea a case of why we should be together or persuade her to change her mind. I wanted her to either want to be with me because she loved me and wanted to build a life with me or let it burn and we would move on with our lives separately.

No matter the outcome I was resolved to be strong for if she truly was happier without me then I would be happy for her. It would be a bummer for me. Such is life. I had done everything I possibly could have. The matter was finally out of my hands. As I showed up at her door with me was my final poem to her, maybe the best one I have ever composed. I coupled it with an orchid, the highest most sophisticated flower a man should ever give a woman and not one to be gifted nonchalantly.

This poem I planned to read to her personally from my heart with my voice. That was just what I did. She cried, we hugged and then we went to dinner. I took her to this mellow little spot on Carrillo St., Roy’s. The food is pretty average but the atmosphere is very inviting and rather intimate making it a perfect date spot. Price wise it wont break your bank (by Santa Barbara standards) and they have a rather decent wine list. It seemed like the perfect place for what was to take place.

I must admit I was really nervous, more so then I had ever been. It took all my self control to keep from shaking at times. Our conversation and interaction was palatable to give me some hope, although my instincts told me the out come would be not all I was hoping for. I presented my thoughts and feelings. When I concluded she handed me a letter. I took it and put it in the breast pocket of my jacket to read at a later time.

She said she still needed more time, maybe till January or longer to sort things out. This was the answer I was expecting. At first I lost my composure. I kind of feel like anyone with a heart would have. I got a little defensive and a bit on the angry side. The whole idea seemed prosperous to me. We had only been together seven months and nothing catastrophic had passed between us that would warrant such a break.

The explanation was she needed to time to regroup and take her life back. I told her we should make the most out of the night if it was to potentially be our last night together. “Let’s pass this night together as lovers and then walk away in the morning as distant acquaintances”. We enjoyed our meal. There was some heavy emotion on both sides as can be expected of such. Afterward I took her down to the beach. I had gotten a bottle of champagne, one of my favorites and decided to blow my sax for her a bit. Heather had never heard me play before.

My music is a very personal thing for me and ever since I got out of doing it for a living I tend to keep my performances few and far between. When I do play, especially these days it’s in rather obscure instances, such as out on the beach at 12 am. The air had a cold nip in it that night. I wrapped her in blankets and played a few of my favorite standards and one of my own. I do believe it had quite an effect over her.

The rest of the night and early morning passed slowly although not slow enough. As I laid there in bed and she was sleeping on my chest I wished I had the power to stop time. That I could stay in that moment forever. It is not in the power of man to do such things nor would it be poignant to. Time most move on. Right before I closed my eyes I accepted this and knew that no matter what happened from there that I would always have that moment in my heart forever. If I could remember the shrouded felicity that passed between us, then I could always look back on the time spent with her in a positive manner.

The next morning I watched her walk out of my life, possibly forever. The plan was to meet at a certain location at a certain time on New Years Day if either of us felt so inclined. Until then there was to be no contact. If we were going to take a break it had to be a real break this time. I stood in the doorway of my apartment and listened till I could no longer hear her footsteps on the pavement. A sense of melancholy set in. Sure, there was always New Years, but the reality was it was not a reality at all, but a fantasy to help deal with the pain.

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I Still Wear My Heart on My Sleeve…

Posted in Dating, Life, News From Lisanti Land, Surfing, tagged Alfie with Crazy Hair, Bull Shit, Heart Ache, I hate working, I love Ice Cream, I love lamp, I Love Rincon, love, penis, Relationship turmoil, Shitty Bosses on November 19, 2013| 1 Comment »

Well about a month ago I started to tell a tale about Heather and I in “Whats Been Goin Down in Lisanti Land” blog. Since then I pretty much have fallen off the face of the earth as far as blogging is concerned. Although that is not entirely true. If you are an avid reader of the surflog then you already know most of what I am about to impart here. In that case consider it a more in depth recap of a very strange, emotional and trying month in Lisanti Land. Those of you who have been on the edge of your seat I really hope you didn’t fall off.

When I last left off Heather and I had decided to take a break or more like she decided she needed more time for that break. I did my usual grieving and spent the weekend at the Wild Cat finding my way to fancy town with Bizarro and the usual regulars. I had by that point just about written the relationship off. Fuck, I am a pessimistic person after all. Its so much easier to figure you are going to get screwed in the long run. This way if you do get screwed at least you knew it was coming and if you don’t then you are pleasantly surprised.

It all started at work on the Monday after the above mentioned Wild Cat romp. I was lamenting of my pathetic situation as most despondent poets and love enthusiasts do in such a situation to my buddy Hugo. Hugo to his credit has been with his girl friend for about a year or so and in his own way is rather romantic about it. If he reads this he will probably shank me for stating that. He told me straight forward “If you love her then fight for her”. I didn’t really know what to do or how to do it.

She wanted a break and space. How could I manage to make contact with her with out violating those wishes? Then the gears started to turn in my head. I immediately went to Shakespeare and re-read Romeo and Juliet. Alas that romance would not do for it did not apply to us. I thought harder into my archives and then it hit me. As You Like It, was the perfect place to start. Just as Orlando went into the forest of Arden to woo Roslyn I to would take up my quest to the West Side of Santa Barbara for my Heather. I hate to say it, but I think I would rather spend a night in the Forest of Arden then on the West Side.

I know I denounced flowers and poetry years ago after failed attempts with both Adrienne and Vespera. Then again that is the language of love. At first you don’t succeed, try, try again. With that on my mind I proceeded. It also helps to note that I figured I had lost her forever anyway thus what harm could a little courteous harassment do? I decided that at seven days before we were to meet I was going to leave her a flower and poem a day on her doorstep every morning.

Flowers in Victorian times, when matters of the heart and lust were done more discreetly held many different meanings to their beholder. I started with a singe yellow rose for friendship on the first day with a small poem and elaborated every day after. I was making custom bouquets, hand picking cards from this salvage shop downtown that went with the message I wanted to convey. I even potted a small arrangement in her grandmother’s antique flower pot she had left in my yard.

Mentally I was barely sustaining through all of this. On one end the effort put forth gave me a sense of hope. On the other a higher sense of despair. We were suppose to get together on a Thursday, but a deadline at work had her unable to meet me. Discouraged, yet not put off I rescheduled for that Saturday, 10/19. An alarming email sent by her to me, which I may have looked into a bit too hasty caused me to cancel and reschedule for that following Tuesday. That’s the problem with email its way to vague. I hate technology. Lets just go back to horse and buggy times.

Years ago I scored Santa Cruz with Mauriello. This was Middle Peak at Steamer Lane. On this swell it could have been just as good if not better

Then I got hit up Sunday morning by Mauriello claiming quite the NW swell was to hit his way. All signs pointed to Santa Cruz being epic. If I was to go I would have had to bail Monday night after work and not bet back into the Barb till that Thursday. The allure of scoring some of my favorite SC spots was very appealing. I almost pulled the trigger on it. If I were to blow Heather off yet again what kind of message would that have sent?

After much deliberation I decided for once in my life to go with my heart and not my crazy surf addiction. I regrettably declined John’s generous offer to score three days of what could have been some epic surfing. My life has been full of amazing waves and as hard as it was to not grab a few more I knew there would be plenty more opportunities to get barreled in my life. If I had blown off Heather that could have been my last chance. To my devote surfing readers believe me the decision sounds crazy. At some point in life surfing will not be able to fill your every need and want.

At this point in my life surfing although is still at the forefront of everything for me it is not my end all be all. Consequently the surf was absolutely shit here in the 805 during the time span I was suppose to be scoring up north. As it turned out Heather ended up canceling on me due to her not feeling so well. I knew she was not blowing me off. When you were with some one for as long as I was with Heather and as intimate, you know when they are telling the truth or not. We rescheduled yet again for Thursday, 10/24. At that point I was bummed I had not just pulled the trigger on the Nor’Cal’ trip. While I stayed home and agonized John charged size-able Ocean Beach.

Ok, I dont think it was this unruly, but Mauriello lives for this shit. Nothing but big cold closed out barrels!

Thursday came and I must say that I woke up with an air of calm relief that if was finally time to face my demons. Yet at the same time I was as nervous and anxious as I have not been in some time. Unfortunately my shitty boss roped me into working the early shift by pulling a dick move and putting me on the schedule for the AM shift with out telling me. I work and have been working pretty much the same schedule for the last four years. That being the case there is no point in me checking the schedule ever. Since I didn’t check it if I didn’t show up it would have reflected as an attendance demerit. After so many demerits you get a write up and after too many write ups you get fired.

At the moment I am on somewhat thin ice as it is. One because I can’t help but flap my mouth around when things are bull shit. Two because this whole Heather situation has had my attention and concentration highly diverted, not to mention my nerves and patience lacking. Three my drinking problem which I developed post Adrienne makes me a liability at times. All my higher ups need is a valid excuse to can my ass with out my being able to go to human relations and demand a fair labor hearing. Isn’t working for a big corporation awesome! If I get fired I am going to have to move on to my back up plan which is sucking dick for crack and then selling the crack for a profit. As glamorous as that life sounds I think I will pass on it.

I pulled myself through a shitty work day made worse by the feeling of the unknown of what the out come of the evening would be. I am talking beyond butterflies. I could not even eat. When 3:30 came I planned on bolting home and getting prepared both physically and mentally for the evening. As I was cleaning up my station around 2 pm I got a text from Ryan that Rincon looked fun. No matter the verdict of the night I thought there no harm in bailing out of work an hour early to go score some fun Rincon. Lets face it nothing makes me feel better then a good session at the Queen of the Coast.

No matter what life sends me its all left on the beach especially when that beach is Rincon.

I got a few fun ones up at Indicator and River Mouth and for at least an hour I was able to forget my problems. Or lack there of respective to people who have real problems in life. To each their own. The starving kid in Africa wishes he had the scraps thrown away by a low income American, who intern wishes he could eat filet mignon. Meanwhile the rich recollect on those bygone days when he was young and free and not so tied down by all his worldly assets. Its all relative. With a better mindset I drove home ready to face whatever my fate would be….

****To be continued. I know what an asshole I am. First I don’t write anything for over a month and then I leave you with a cliff hanger. Well read the old surf logs from October and November if you really can’t wait. Its late now and I’m tired. The rest of the story is pretty good and I do promise all the feeling and emotion that may have been graced over in the surf log and even some hindsight looking back over the situation. In the meantime here is a cute picture of Alfie to tide you over.*****

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Whats Been Going Down in Lisanti Land?

Posted in Anger, Dating, Life, News From Lisanti Land, tagged Fuck me, fuck Obama Care, fuck them, Fuck wage garnishments, fuck you, Heart Break, I am king of the idiots, I miss Heather, Maybe the King of Pain too, Rincon, When life shits on Chris Lisanti he turns around a squirts diarrhea back, why cant I just find men attractive and be gay, Women suck on October 8, 2013| 13 Comments »

Well my friends it has certainly been some time since I have written. All I can say for myself is that I have been super busy with both work and surfing. On top of the usual bull shit there have been some minor unsatisfactory issues in my personal life and annoyances in my financial affairs as well. When it rains it pours people, at least I remembered to pack my umbrella this time. Lets get started. If you are a regular follower of the surflog I shall apologize in advance for any redundancies. If your not reading the surflog then your missing out cause it is where all the uncut excitment happens on this blog these days. Check it out.

Surfing

Finally after a near six week flat spell with waves in the knee high and under range the northern pacific decided to wake up and start sending some swell our way. Considering NW is our primary swell generator up here in the Santa Barbara area it was a rather welcoming sight to be hold. I managed to get as much water time as possible and when I compile September’s numbers I will post up that month in surfing’s review. What I will say is that I am thankful everyday that I am a surfer and that no matter what happens or how hard I am tested when I put on my wet suit and step into the water everything makes sense even if only for the duration of that session.

Work

My boss decided to put shrimp skewers on the menu about two weeks ago. Do you have any idea how many shrimp you need to skew for 800 people. Look at the size of that bowl. Its a lot of fucking shrimp!

Work is a necessary evil or so I am told and we are all led to believe. Thus everyday, five days a week I show up to this place, this slave ship, punch the clock and work my fingers to the bone for a wage that is barely enough to keep my head above water. None the less I do enjoy what I do and make a solid effort to cook one really good thing a day for the students I feed. Its all good food, but I try and take one dish and just go that extra mile with it. That way at the end of the day I can go home with a small sense of pride. I have also decided to use the constant repetition of tasks to perfect my skill and technique. My knife to hand coordination at this point and overall speed is getting to be unreal.

Ultimately I know I need to make a change soon. Realistically I have hit the ceiling at Westmont for how high I can climb in the ranks. Ever since I got passed on for sous chef a year ago I had known this. I have seen plenty of cooks in this game stay at establishments years longer then they should have hoping to get a sous position only to be passed on time and time again. I feel this may be the case for me. My bosses don’t believe in me to be able to hold a position of responsibility and they are certainly entitled to their opinion. As for me, I have to do what is best for me.

At the moment I am weighing all my options even considering an entire career change. I love the culinary profession, but the pay just isn’t right and if it is then the hours are terrible. At this point I think the only way I am going to stay in the game is if I open up my own place. Otherwise I am exploring other avenues in life that could be more lucrative. Time will tell.

My Romantic Turmoil

As many of you know I have been in a topsy turvy relationship for the past seven months. We were stuck riding an on again off again roller coaster that neither of us knew how to stop. Our love for each other was pure. I know I loved her with all of my heart and would bet all I have that she felt the same. Life and our meager situations in life got in the way. Upon meeting me she had a falling out with the guy she was seeing, lost her job and found that the high cost of living and low wage rate in Santa Barbara had just about brought her to the brink of ruin.

I have been living in the above situation for the past six years and I suppose I am just used to it. Between all of that stress and the normal problems that can be encountered in a new relationship combined with the fact that I am a very acquired taste for most women we were most likely doomed from the get go. Of course this always happens when I decide that I am in love and ready to commit. Too little too late, when will I ever learn? Yeah, at the moment I am feeling a bit on the meloncholy side.

We didn’t leave things with out any hope. She mainly needs some time to get her personal affairs in order and think things through. I was granted that time by her not so long in the past and totally respect where she is coming from even if it pains me terribly. “If you love something set it free and if it comes back it was meant to be”. Yes I know I have written that before during all the Adrienne bs (You can check out “One Last Perfect Day” and “Bowing Out” to see what being pathetic and heart break is really about. Sorry long term readers, but there a tons of new readers now who may have missed these two gems of Lisanti despair).

I sort of got drunk on Saturday night at the Wild Cat, of all places. Then decided to drunk dial her 11 times in a matter of a half hour and left her four crazy messages at 2 am. Two were desperate pleas. The third was angry and the last an apology for the latter. Yep, that’s right I am a psycho. Any chance I had a patching up that relationship is over. I am sure the restraining order is in the mail. It was sort of like this scene from “Blades of Glory”:

I really need to start understanding that actual life and fiction are not one in the same. Then again how boring would life be with out a bit of drama. Hope you all got a good laugh at my expense cause long live Chris Lisanti, king of the idiots.

The Party Life

The epitome of Fancytown!!!

Never fear my friends it has not been all bad times here in Lisanti Land. As a matter of fact there has been many great adventures had in and around the vicinity of Fancytown. After a somewhat of a hiatus this summer I hit the Wild Cat with a reckless abundance restoring the unstoppable duo of Bizarro and I know as “The Chris'”. Besides the usual drunken debauchery that goes on in a club where the rules are few and gnarly personalities many the annual Gay Prom took place in September. This year it was a Gatspy theme and a formal attire affair. I have not had that much fun out since New Years. Except it was better then New Years because the attendees were almost all regulars and since it was a Sunday night there were no amateurs. Its bad enough we have to deal with that shit Friday and Saturday.

I am happy to report that the Gay Prom was the last time I have blacked out making it almost three full weeks. I know that doesn’t sound like a long time for you non alcoholics out there, but for me its quite an accomplishment. I hope to keep the being more sober ball rolling. Besides that its been business as usual on the scene.

The Chris’, a party force to be reckoned with.

Fuck Money, I am Going Back to Wampum

Financially my life is a fucking joke as usual. About ten months ago or so my creditors finally caught up with me after eight years and decided to sue me through the mail, no court room necessary. To counter file was like over $300 so I was shit out of luck. Then I thought a lawyer friend of mine was helping me out with the whole thing. As it turned out he didn’t do anything at all. End result I had a default judgement against me for over three thousand dollars. Currently there is a lean on my assets, which is comical since I don’t own anything, maybe they want Alfie and my pay checks are being garnished 15%.

If you thought it was tough living in Santa Barbara on my minuscule paycheck before, it is even harder with 15% less a week coming in. Then my shit head land lord decided to raise the rent $100 a month meanwhile my salary has stayed the same even thought he called it an “increased cost of living raise”. For who is what I want to know. I will tell you who, ME!

Thanks to Obama care in all its stupity and splendor I have been cut down to part time status this way Sodexo doesn’t have to supply me any benefits including paid sick time, vacation time and paid holidays. Looks like I just got screwed by big business and the US government. On top of all of that I am going to have shell out a sum of money each month for health insurance I am being forced to buy. Hmm…and that is how the rich get richer folks. Thats all from Lisanti Land at the moment. Now if you don’t mind I am going to fail at suicide and attempt to hang myself from my shower curtain rod. Awesome!

This face is pretty much how I am feeling at the moment about everything. At least its Rincon season.

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Oh My….Power of Ten

Posted in Dating, Music, Surfing, User Choice BLog, tagged Ayn Rand, Backside Tube Riding, Granny Panties, Howard Roark, South Australia, The Fountain Head, The Summer of Alf is over :(. Black Cat sitting on a computer, Tighty Whities on September 22, 2012| 7 Comments »

Today marks the official end of summer on the modern Calendar and if those Mayan dudes are correct we are just a few months till the end of the world and thank fucking god cause I don’t really have a back up plan for 2013 if the world does not end. With the end of this summer also concludes the SUMMER OF ALF!!! I know it feels like it only just began and now it is over :(. Was it a success or failure? You will just have to wait for my Summer of Alf index report blog to find out, although if you read the surf log you might have been able to speculate the answer to that one. If not check back at June, July, August and September and you can make your own assumption. Then read “Of Things to Come” and really see how well I did accomplishing some of those summer goals and if your completely lost on what the Summer of Alf is read “I declare this the Summer of Alf” blog. Then answer the fun poll below. Hooray!!!

The 21st of September does not just end the summer of 2012 or THE SUMMER OF ALF, but also the summer quarter of the UCB. I know what your thinking, what quarter you only wrote like 2 UCB’s. Whatever, sorry folks I was too busy living in the moment of the SUMMER OF ALF and getting drunk at the Wild Cat and fornicating with loose women. Yeah for sluts at the bar. Nothing says good times like waking up in the morning next to a person you have no idea ever meeting or how she got to be in your home, let alone why she is naked next to you. Ahhh single living,thank you Ades for all you have done for me. I am sure I will look back on all this someday and laugh…NOT!

Before I close out the summer UCB quarter I thought why no conclude it with one more Power of Ten list. Mauriello takes the cake on this one. I must say there were some really hefty lists posted. Choosing one was a realy mental fight. Ultimately I let Alfie choose. John you can thank him for your two points.

The cat of cats Alfie making this months Power of Ten winner selection.

1. Die Antwoord: Die Antwoord is this ridiculous house music group from South Africa. Mauriello is currently obsessed with them and after watching way way way too many of their videos on YouTube.com I too have been a bit corrupted. Who are we kidding I was already fucked to begin with. You can make the decision for yourself. “Old enough to breed, old enough to bleed, old enough crack a brick in your teeth”. Oh the shit that is out there in this world and then we wonder why our society is slowly falling apart. Then again people thought Shakespeare was obscene in his time.

2. Interacting With Normal People: I think by now if you have been reading for a bit or even if you just read the intro to this blog you have figured out that I am not like everyone else. The word “normal” is very subjective kind of like when one tries to judge surfing. To me normal means behavior that comes natural to oneself. In my mind everything I do is normal. Unfortunately according to the standards of society I am actually very abnormal. So that brings us to the question at hand, how do I interact with normal people. Mostly they are appalled by my actions, speech and behavior. Some are awestruck, others deeply impressed and the a small group slightly to very confused. Most of the time I am not serious about anything and am very sarcastic. I make a suicide joke on here at least once a week. I find the taboo very amusing and like to play with those parameters. This makes your run of the mill everyday American very uncomfortable. More then that I do whatever I want, whenever I want, where ever I want regardless of the consequences. I am brutally honest and not afraid to make a complete ass of myself, which usually is the outcome for me 90% of the time. Normal people just don’t understand me and therefore put on an uncomfortable smile and occasional awkward giggle biding their time till they can politely, but promptly take their leave of me and never come back. Those of you out there who have witnessed this know exactly what I am talking about.

3. Nicholas Cage: I really like Nicholas Cage. As a matter of fact I cannot think of a movie he has been in that I have not liked. Sure he only has three looks, creepy happy, creepy angry and creepy pathetic, but he uses them well. “Leaving Las Vegas” is one of my all time favorite tragic romances, “The Wickerman” is a gnarly ass suspense that has you guessing till the last second. “Lord of War” and “The Weatherman” will have you laughing your ass off. “Gone in 60’s Seconds” is action packed and “8mm” is just plain heavy. Just to name a few.

Sort of looks like when I go grocery shopping.

4. The Implications of Granny Panties: This is a very good topic and one I have some experience sadly with. When the granny panties come out you can kiss your sex life with your girl friend goodbye along with it. Basically what cotton full cover panties means is “I don’t care about turning you on anymore”. With this always comes the sweat pants, “Im too tired” and ultimately her sleeping next to you in full on pajamas. It means your girlfriend, wife or whatever does not give a shit about sex with you except for that two times a month when she is horny. Its a very sad predicament my friends. I am not saying ladies that you have to be in thongs all the time, but there are plenty of sexy options out there in pantie design that will still offer comfort but drive us wild. Yes you may not be comfortable sleeping naked, but there are also plenty of sexy sleep options that are comfortable as well. That XXL t-shirt does not do shit for me. I know, how bout if I gain thirty pounds grow a beer belly and sit around on the couch all day in a pair of stained tighty whities and a wife beater. Sounds grotesque doesn’t it. That is exactly what we think of the granny panties. Its only ok if your a granny and I am so old that not even an entire bottle of Viagra could get my dick up. Let the hate mail begin!

5. Roommates: Ahh roommates, the necessity of the poor. Sure I could live with out a roommate if I wanted to go live in Goleta, Carpinteria, a shitty part of town and give up my ocean and mountain view. Either that or I could rent a studio with one room, a bathroom a microwave and a hot plate. Sorry I need a kitchen and love my view. That being said the Lisanti Palace is not cheap and Alfie that lazy S.O.B wont go out and get a job. Thus I have roommates. Here at the Palace we have been through dozens. Some were crazy, some sucked, some loved shooting heroin, others were great. Overall my only goal in this life is to someday make enough money that I can support the Palace on my own. That and get my Bentley of course.

6. Backside Barrel Rides: I love backside barrel riding. It is way gnarlier, looks sicker, is more technical and you can just get so much deeper in the tube. When you come out of an acid drop drainer back hand with no grab and nothing but your hands on your testicles it’s legendary. I am a goofy in the northern hemisphere which contributes to an inane backside tube ridding ability. It also helps that I grew up in New Jersey known for either flat days or heaving right hand barrels. Now I live in Santa Barbara home to two of the best right hand barrels in the world, Sand Spit and El Capitan. Lets just say when a heavy one is bearing down on me backside I don’t even think twice about pulling in.

Slab Happy in South Australia

7. Bar Fights: There is something really invigorating about getting into a good old fashioned bar fight. It seems these days I have been getting into way more of my share then I should be. The main cause of it is when other guys girl friends decide they would rather hang out with myself or my buddies. Then the other guy gets jealous and comes over all angry “What are you doing with my girl”. Then I respond “hey guy if I were you instead of wasting your time getting all huffy with us you ought to check your bitch”. Next thing you know punches get thrown. In Australia and New Zealand guys will drag you out of the pub with the sole intention of fighting you just because. You will rumble and then the winner buys the loser a beer and they are friends for life. It happened to me when I was in NZ and that dude and I chilled all the time after that. For a funny bar fight story involving yours truly at Fiesta last year read “Fiesta 2011 Ole!” Blog. Basically I started a full on bar room brawl by accident. Read it I promise you will laugh.

8. Fast Food: I know I am a very accomplished cook and purveyor of eating well, but there is just something about a juicy Big Mac that just gets my mouth watering. I have this guilty passion for fast food. There is just something about consuming a weeks worth of caloric intake in just a matter of minutes that fascinate me. I am also dumbfounded on how they manage to charge so little money. All that sodium and grease, oh baby…YUM! Top five national fast food places in order from least to greatest: 5. Taco Bell, 4. Wendy’s, 3. KFC 2. Mac Donalds, 1. Subway, fuck if its good enough for Happy Gilmore it is good enough for me and with $5 foot longs all month you bet your ass I am doing some damage there.

9. The Fountain Head: The Fountain Head is a master piece novel by Ayn Rand. I was turned onto her by my ex-girlfriend who at the time passed it along to me. It blew my mind and I could not put it down. The Fountain Head pretty much sums up human integrity into a few stereo typical categories reflected from each of the main characters. Be for warned you many not end up being the character you expected if you are a person who can look at yourself truthfully. I saw who I was really fast and it helped me a bit to make certain alterations in my own life. If you do read it or have read it I think you will clearly see which character reflects me the most as well. More then anything the novel is a true testament to the human spirit and staying true to your own beliefs no matter what the cost. First and fore most this has always been the driving force in my own life. “All these years I had hoped to run into you so I could ask you just what you thought of me after all I have done to destroy you”…”Honestly I don’t think about you at all”-Howard Roark.

10. How to Meet Ms. Perfect: These days popular opinion keeps telling me that I am going to meet her on the internet on some online dating site. I could not even stomach the idea. I would be ok with meeting someone off Craigslist cause like I said before its a bit more sketchy on there. Any chick who has the guts to post on there is a woman worthy of my esteem or at least a look. I am sorry but I am a hopeless romantic at heart and our meet cute has to be something out of a story. I have only seriously been with three woman and all there were such. There was no internet involved, well maybe just a little bit in my most recent failure. I guess that was not so recent anymore. If you don’t have a romantic story early on than what is going to happen to your relationship years down the pike? Maybe I am just old fashioned and a dreamer, but I think I will keep dreaming.

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Dating in the Year 2012: How to Meet the Person of Your Dreams

Posted in Anger, Dating, Deep Thoughts, Life, News From Lisanti Land, tagged "You cant be out there because Im out there and if see you out there I wont know what to think" The dating scene is hell I think I am just going to become a hermit., Adult Dating, Bars, Clubs, Comedy, Dating, Dating in 2012, FML, Gym, Summer of Alf, Wild Cat on July 19, 2012| 16 Comments »

For some reason I feel a bit gypped being it is 2012. Were we not suppose to have flying cars by now, wearing futuristic clothing with strange rings round different parts of the outfit and I’m pretty sure we should have had robots doing all our work for us? So much for that shit. If the world does not end in December I am going to royally be let down this year.

I have not written too much as of late. My excuse this time around is that I just feel sort of bored with my life. Trying this normal “real life” thing and doing what I’m “suppose to do” really leaves a lack time for adventuring and a paling few opportunities for spontaneity, two aspects of my life that I have constantly thrived on, well since birth actually. Don’t get me wrong I am digging this “settling down becoming a useful member of society” idea.

I guess its fun to have to go to work five days out of the week. Who really liked all that free time anyway? NOT ME…NO! I love to sweat it out for eight hours a day in a hot kitchen serving some other guys dreams while burning my hands and arms. All so I can be told I forgot the sauce, or the cheese or this side, or “this steak is not well done enough”. Bitch if I cooked it any longer it would have been a piece of mother fucking charcoal!

Now that I got that off my chest this new mundane life of surfing the same shitty breaks, in the same shitty town, in the same shitty state, in the same shitty country has caused a sort of mental paralysis. I literally have had blog writers block if such a thing is possible. Then I gave my life a bit more consideration and realized that even though I am living like everyone else my life still manages to be crazy and intense. Just going to the bank and grocery store at times produce ridiculous stories.

Rather then just write the surflog and the occasional UCB (which by the way has been rather sterile as of late, get those power of ten lists in for July) I have decided I am going to write about the adventures I have in my vain attempt at social normality. Its usually a collection of great moments of failure. The first subject I would like to write on is dating in today’s I’m too busy, high paced, smart phone society. As most of you know I have been single now for just about a year and unfortunately have had to partake in the world of adult dating.

Meeting Members of the Opposite Sex

I use the term adult dating to describe dating after college years. Once you get out of school meeting people becomes quite the challenge, at least for me anyway. When your young there are plenty of social circles one exists in where there are plenty of opportunities to meet new and different people. Those people introduce you to others and so on and so forth. By pure probability of the social circle system there is a decent chance of meeting a member of the opposite sex who you may click with.

As an adult those circles get smaller and tighter. While new ones become nearly impossible to penetrate. If you have a group of friends you have been hanging out with for twenty years and you bring in a new person that poor schmuck has a lot of catching up to do. Its hard trust me. There is only so long you can pretend to find inside jokes that you are on the outside of funny before you get fed up and go your own way. It sucks when your that guy people have to constantly be explaining what is going on and who is who to.

The Bar

Then there is the bar/club. This is my natural scene to meet people. Why do you go out to such places? To meet new people. Face the facts why go out and spend the price of an entire bottle or six pack for one drink if you just wanted to hang out with your friends and not meet anyone new? You could stay home with all your friends and drink for a quarter of the price. On paper this looks like the perfect scene for singles to go out and mingle.

Maybe at one time it was. These days its a mess out there. Your average person might go out a few times a month at best more times then not opting to stay home and sit around on the couch. I love the rules of probability so I go out a few nights a week. My attitude being nothing is sure as hell going to happen on my couch besides Alfie clawing the shit out of my legs. Of course when you go out a bunch there is another probability statistic that holds true: becoming an alcoholic. Its very easy my friends. One drink turns into five, then shots next thing you know your being woken up at 4am by the cops cause you passed out against a gas pump.

The quality of people you meet here are for the most part less then stellar as well. Drunks love drunks after all. My buddy and I have this running rule now: No Regulars. For me this is sort of an oxymoron cause we are regulars. The idea being if a woman is out as much as we are then she most likely has bigger problems then us. Basically we hang around looking for the women who have come out for some special occasion such as a holiday, birthday, wedding party, etc. These girls are most likely decent people looking to have a good time and worth meeting and they don’t know that we are there all the time.

“Do you come here often” she asks. “Never, this is only my third time at the Wild Cat” I reply as the bar tender hands me another rum and coke with out me having ordered it. It just so happens everyone I know is at that bar by coincidence that night. The other problem with the bar is the fact that when chicks go out they either put on their battle armor ready to fend off any suitor in their sights thanks in part to all the tools and douche bags out there who have ruined it for guys like myself. Getting past this armor is a hard one. If they don’t have their armor on then they have come out to get laid meaning come morning I am most likely never to see her again.

Yeah, the club does have some fringe benefits 😉

The Grocery Store

This is a place I have just recently come to embrace for meeting women at. For starters there are tons of women at the super market. I am personally a terrible opener. I never know what to say and most times when I do try I feel like I am just being bothersome, get flushed and quickly walk away as fast as I approached. At the grocery store I am the man.

I’m a chef. I know food and wine. No matter what section of the store I’m in if I see a woman looking at a certain item and she seems a bit confused I add my two cents. More times then not it leads into a conversation. Then I always blow it by not getting any digits. I like to leave things up to fate that way. I think if I see her again it was meant to be and I will ask for her number at that time. This system is double flawed. My short term memory and face recognition is spotty at best and odds of running into her again slim. Its a lose lose for me.

The Beach

There was a time when I was a professional surfer and I killed it on the beach. All I had to do was get out of the water and chicks would flock to me. These days I don’t have stickers on my board any more and therefore when I get out am just another average schmo. Yeah I still rip, but most women have no idea what good surfing is. Its been my understanding that in general they think who ever rode the wave the longest got the best ride even if that meant riding the white water all the way to the beach. Whenever I take a chick who knows little about surfing down to the beach with me all she says is “why did you keep falling” or “your rides were so short”. “Look at that guy he has been riding his waves all the way in” as she points to some kook on a soft top flailing his way in on the soap…FML.

Besides surfing I have no beach game what so ever. I think this is mainly because I am not a bro. Also I have chicken legs thus shorts are not flattering to me. One looks like an idiot on the beach in a pair of jeans. Here in Santa Barbara there are no surf able waves on our beaches most of the time and zero in the summer when chicks actually go to the beach. The surfing approach just does not work.

Maybe if I looked as sexy as this guy my beach game would be better. Hold on a second isn’t that the dude my ex girlfriend left me for? hmmmmm

The Coffee Shop

My buddy Mark thoroughly believes in this approach. Its true there are tons of woman at coffee shops just hanging out. Next to the bar I would have to think they are the second best casual social meccas. I have a problem. I don’t drink coffee. The caffeine makes me crazy. I am a naturally hyper person to begin with. Throw in the caffeine and I get neurotic and even at times am prone to have anxiety attacks. Between the two It makes me rather unattractive. Me on coffee:

Library, Gym, rec-center, church, parks

Although I love books and reading I do not like the library. Taking out books is such a hassle. Then I always forget to return them, lose or damage the material thus that “free” book became more then it would have cost to buy it. Here in Santa Barbara the library has become the headquarters for the homeless. I think we all know how I feel about bummery. Yes bummery is not a word. You can quote me on that: Bummery – the act of vagrancy. Honestly I rarely see good looking chicks in the library and they come there to read not be bothered by dudes looking to get in their pants.

I don’t work out and even if I do don’t develop muscle tone. I would rather just go surfing, skating or on a hike for my exercise. I do like cute girls in spandex though. Believe it or not I actually tried the gym briefly last summer on a one month free trial membership I got from Spectrum when I worked with FRS. I did not meet any one and mostly got yelled at for misusing the equipment. Eventually I got tired of the ridiculous amount of old men walking around the locker room butt naked with their shriveled up figs dangling about.

The reason I gave up on the gym…

What the fuck is a rec-center. Do they even exists anymore, seriously. If they do and they are filled with eligible hot single women please my readers enlighten me. I will reward you by building a statue of your likeness out of a block of Wisconsin cheddar cheese. They are more likely just to be filled with more naked old men walking around with their shriveled up figs.

I tried the church thing. For the most part churches are full of beautiful good hearted single women. The draw back is most of these women want to get married. I don’t really have a problem with that per say, second times a charm right. I do have a problem with the fact that the majority of these girls wont have sex with me until that marriage takes place and then some don’t believe in contraception. Although I would like to have children some day I would like it to be planned and limited. Oh and for whatever reason they are against drinking, partying and just about everything else that is fun. One thing that is for certain about churches is the likely hood of running into naked old men is rare if any.

Parks are cool. I love a nice park. There is nothing like a good stroll through a nice park on a gorgeous summer day. If I had a dog I would be golden. Chicks love dogs. Then again I don’t really want to walk around picking up dog shit in a little baggie and then having to carry that around till I find a trash receptacle. As much as chicks dig a guy with a dog I do not believe they fancy a guy who picks up shit and then carries it around with him in a little baggie. My dog would probably be gnarly and eat some little kid on the play ground. Then authorities would shot him on sight and then me cause I wouldn’t let them take me alive. Maybe its best if I just stayed at home with Alf. Plus I once saw an old homeless guy drop his pants and take a shit against a tree in a park once. That breaches both my homeless and old man fig problem.

The Internet

I don’t do the online thing. A bunch of people have recommended some great sites for me to try. I have heard countless success stories. On the other hand I have heard countless horror stories as well. What if I just end up having some weirdo old man send me a picture of his figs? I know it is the “way of the future” for people to meet. It seems really unnatural and forced to me, borderline desperate? I know I am old fashioned but what happened to meeting someone awesome in your day to day and having dinner? That is actually going to be our next segment in this new series.

I have messed around with the Craigslist personals. That shit is fucking gnarly. You want adventure start answering some of those adds. Unlike match.com and those other accepted, safe dating sites craigslist is dangerous and you never know who or what you are going to meet. Anyone who is willing to put themselves on that forum is got guts and worthy of my time. Believe me I have been on some interesting craigslist dates to say the least. Needless to say I am still single.

Singles Mixers

Yep I have tried some of these too. If you think internet dating is bad this is far worse. On the whole it is a collection of busted ass people thrown together in a somewhat hostile setting. Its almost like going to a stud farm. There is always more dudes then chicks there. Then we are all thrown into the coral together with alcohol. It is sort of like the bar but with bright lighting. I did two of such events saw just about the same people at both, drank my two complementary drinks and went to the Wild Cat. Mostly if was old men walking around with their figs safely concealed in their trousers.

I hope you found some humor in this. If you are single then you see that you are not alone my friends. Even a person as wonderfully man pretty as myself cant nab a girl friend to save his life. For whatever reason I don’t think this blog helps my case. Oh well if they can’t accept me for who I am then I don’t want any. Look for more dating fun in another segment soon.

With a face like this I am always in constant wonderment why the ladies stay away. I know what it is: My good looks and charm are too intimidating for them.

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One Last Perfect Day

Posted in Coffee Table Saga, Dating, Deep Thoughts, Life, tagged Beckman Vineyards, Chris Lisanti, Lompoc, love, Ostrich Land, Rhone, Rhone Rangers, Santa Barbara Wine Country, Santa Ynez Valley, Surf Beach, Syrah, wine, Wine Tasting on May 20, 2011| 12 Comments »

Adrienne and I finally decided to take a break apart from each other. I know it’s for the best right now, but still it’s hard for me to not wish things could not have turned out better. I tried to keep us together for as long as I could as hard as I could. She was not ready to try and may never be able to. I think now the only chance we have of ever reuniting is some time apart.

“If you love something set it free and if it comes back to you it was meant to be” is how the saying goes I trust. If you’re lost revisit Bowing Out and Once Upon A Mattress for more details. It looks like from here on forward you will be reading about independent single Lisanti. Don’t get your hopes up for drunken tales and sexual escapades. I don’t find pride in those stories anymore. Before I close the Adrienne chapter of my life I would like to tell one last story about us, our last fun day.

This past weekend I took Ades up to Santa Barbara Wine Country. Springtime is beautiful up there. Everything is still green and luscious before browning out during the summer heat and drought. I had been up there many times thanks to countless Jalama and Surf Beach missions that had went awry leaving me extra time to go poking around. Adrienne had never been. I knew my days with her were very limited and that if I did not act now I may not have ever had the opportunity to share one of my favorite places in California with her. There are so many other places all over the world I wish I could have had the privilege to show her.

As an extra incentive to go I knew many of the 2010 vintages were beginning to be introduced to the tasting rooms. I planned the whole trip out to go to two vineyards and do some valley adventuring. Our first stop was Beckmen Vineyards in Los Olivios my current favorite estate wine producer in Santa Barbara County. They grow mostly Rhone varietals (grapes that are grown in the Rhone Valley of France, Syrah, Grenache, etc), which are currently some of my favorites. Syrah is considered one of the grapes that grow best in Santa Barbara.

Ades is the one who actually turned me on to Beckmen, buying one their earlier vintage Red Rhone blends earlier in the year. It was one of the better wines I have had the privilege to drink. Out of all the vineyards up there they were the must stop. We get up there and it is just a beautiful vineyard with all the different varieties neatly trellised. The grounds were nicely gardened with a little lake and rose garden. There is nothing more aesthetically pleasing to me then a well kept vineyard. Staring out at acres of pristine rows of vines is surreal.

We go into the tasting room and luckily just missed one of those large wine tasting buses thus had the sommelier all to ourselves. They had a six bottle tasting for ten bucks and the guy threw in a tasting of the new 2010 Rose for free. Adrienne is more of a red fan then a white, and I don’t really have a preference. The 2010 Sauvignon Blanc was quite exquisite. I ended up buying a bottle. They did a Rhone white blend (Marsanne, Roussanne, Grenache Blanc) called Le Bec Blanc that just blew me away. I bought a bottle of that too.

Then we tasted the Rose, which I found to be quite refreshing, Adrienne was not a fan. Too sweet for her I think. We tasted their red Rhone blend Cuvee Le Bec, but it was the same vintage Ades had bought that one time so it was not really special to me. Finally we tasted their Syrah. Usually when you buy a bottle they comp the tasting. I bought two and the dude still charged me for the tasting.

Ades said it was because I was not nice enough to the guy, but the dude kept talking about how he was sick and was coughing all over the wine the entire time. How nice could I possibly be? Also I did not really care much for him. Some people just rub me the wrong way. I think it was something about his face.

After the tasting we cruised around the vineyard a bit. I love to walk amongst the grapes, feel the dirt between my fingers. Just imagine how it will look when I come back for another visit for harvest season in the fall. If I ever strike it rich someday maybe I will get myself a vineyard and grow my own Rhone varietals. I can be a Rhone Ranger.

Whenever tasting its good to take a break to give the body a chance to absorb the alcohol. After all if you get too sloshed then you really do not taste objectively. My absolute favorite spot in the Santa Ynez Valley is this little park called Nojoqui Falls. Its this 60 foot limestone water fall that is more like a water slide then a fall thanks to years of limestone being deposited at the base of the falls. It almost does the opposite of most waterfalls.

Instead of eroding the base, all the rich sediment builds it up. It makes for a very breath taking sight. There is all this great moss growing on the limestone and the water bubbles down like chandeliers of foam to a shallow crystal clear pool below. Brennan and I came a across this gem two summers ago when we were doing our 101 Santa Barbara activities. I love it there and make a trip to it whenever I have some spare time. I had wanted to take Ades there for months but never made the time. It’s funny how I always wait till things are over to do something amazing.

After the falls I wanted to get over to Ostrich Land, this crazy ostrich and emu farm in between Solvang and Lompoc. For $5 you get a pail of food and are let lose in the bird pen to feed these monstrous prehistoric angry birds at your own risk of course. I have been here many times. It’s a must stop whenever I go up north with someone new. The place is like a petting zoo gone sadistic. It’s a shit show that you have to experience to fully understand. We both managed to survive the endeavor with all our extremities in tact.

They even had a handful of baby Emus that you could hand feed. I was super pumped on them. I wanted to buy some ostrich meat to cook up since I just recently found out in one of my classes that it is good eating. Unfortunately it turns out the meat has become super popular and is near impossible to get at the moment and they don’t slaughter the birds at Ostrich Land, a fact I always thought the opposite. Turns out the place is just for fun and not for food.

From Ostrich Land it was on to our next tasting. Apparently most tasting rooms close at four and there were a few that closed at five. We managed to luck upon a vineyard a few miles from Ostrich Land that was still tasting called Dierberrg, Star Lane and Three Saints. Those were the three wine labels that are produced there and it was an estate vineyard as well (estate vineyard means all steps in the wine making process happens right at that vineyard). We made the last pouring of the day and the sommelier was super chill and actually poured us a very generous tasting of each bottle. Their pinot noir was very splendid and so was the syrah. I was rather happy with all of the wines poured.

Unfortunately I kicked my budget at Beckmen and the bottles here were a bit too pricey for me to buy one. I offered to pay for the tasting and sommelier said it was free. Well then I had to buy a bottle. I was going to get the Sauvignon Blanc cause it was only $18, but then she pulled out these other wines called Three Saints that are their “table Wines”. I bought a bottle of Syrah for $12.

Their vineyard unlike Beckmen was huge, too large to walk around. As a last stop with the slowly waning sun I took Adrienne to surf beach over on Vandenberg Air Force Base. Surf Beach is one of the eeriest places I have ever surfed and with the recent shark attack I have not made if back since last summer. We got there and it was actually a beautiful afternoon. The beach was closed by the military being that it was passed 6pm (surf beach is only open from 8am-6pm daily), but we could still mill around the parking lot. Between the missile silos, strange non descript huge government buildings and the vast emptiness of the churned up sea it was a breathtaking site.

Ades did not think it was all that eerie, but of course she wouldn’t. She likes creepy places. We muddled around the area for about an hour or so. I tried to do flips off this concrete pillar to no avail, although I did not break my neck so one may consider that a success. I think it was some of the most fun we had together in a while and deep down thought we had a glimmer of hope.

I wanted to get dinner at this famous restaurant called the Hitching Post, but being it was Saturday and around sevenish there was like a two hour wait. Im not about to wait two hours for any food. I don’t care how good it is. We cruised into Solvang this tourist trap built to look like a traditional Danish village. There were less choices then I would have expected considering the nature of the town.

We ended up settling for some Danish themed diner call the Little Mermaid Restaurant. The food was plentiful, cheap and from what I could tell from a quick glimpse in the kitchen mostly heated up out of a can. The dinning experience was great with a bus girl who for whatever reason kept her purse on her at all times thus accidentally clocking me in the head with it every time she took my plate. It was a classic dingy Jersey diner with a Danish theme . We ordered beer to go with the meal, after all that type of food is made to pair with beer. Then Billy Jean came on the radio and I decided to get up a bust out a move or two.

It was a most splendid day. Our last day together, maybe forever? Only time will tell. The situation is out of my hands now. I have done and endured all any human heart could for another person. I can’t force her to love me; she has to figure that out on her own. Sometimes distance makes the heart grow fonder and I can only hope that after a period of time she will realize that she does still love me but has just hardened her heart towards me for the moment.

As for me I need to hang up my hat and walk off into the sunset gracefully alone. She moves out June 1^st and it’s going to be difficult but I cannot be the one to initiate contact between us. If she wants to try again she knows how to find me. For now I have to put my feelings for her aside and move on with my life.

A lot of good has come out of this. I learned tons about myself and have went through a complete transformation as a person. I think I have finally learned what it means to be human. I wish Adrienne the very best in life and hope she finds the happiness I was unable to provide for her.

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Surfing Ruined My Life

One delusional surfer's quixotic journey through life.

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