Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Archive for the ‘Deep Thoughts’ Category

I woke this morning on my little love seat still in my suit from last night’s Gay Prom at the Wild Cat covered in crumpled up nachos and a head ache that felt like someone shoved an ice pick through my ear.  Does this sound familiar?  That is pretty much what went down every night since Thursday.  I sometimes wonder what my shitty new roommate thinks of the pathetic mess I must look like when she is leaving for work at 8 am.  Then again she is a selfish bitch who just screwed me out a good deal of money leaving me literally broke so who fucking cares anyhow.  She is lucky I don’t hit her in the head with a mallet then piss in the hole I just smashed in her skull.  In all seriousness  I think I had $35.83 in my checking account last time I checked.

At 31 years old I expected so much more out of my life by now.  Well, maybe I hoped for more.  As we all know I am a bit of a pessimist and a cynic.  This being the case things probably have worked out exactly as I expected.   I’m divorced, penniless, juvenile, absolutely alone, stuck in a dead end job and a total and utter drunk.   I feel depressed, dejected, frustrated, confused and alienated.  At least I have my health and my beauty, yet one cannot beat father time.  They say the first step is to identify the problem.

Am I depressing you?  I’m sorry, here is a picture of a cat in a top hat to bring back up your spirits.  While we are at it lets go off on a momentary tangent on why top hats became unfashionable.  I mean they are dank as hell.  Look how dapper Mr. Peanut looks in his.  That’s it I am bringing it back.  I declare that this New Years Eve I am going to wear a top hat out and from there on in 2013.  The top hat revolution has begun.

And now back to the misery that is my life…

The Summer of Alf ended some time ago now.  It was a wonderfully splendid spring day back in May when I came up with this great list of positive changes I was going to make and things I was going to pursue in the blog “Of Things to Come“, which will be referenced here and then was later defined in “The Summer of Alf” blog.  If your a steady reader then you know I make these futile proclamation blogs every so often when I feel rather ambitious.  Always forgetting how it was ambition that brought MacBeth to ruin: ” I have no spur, To prick the sides of my intent, but only Vaulting ambition, which o’erleaps itself, And falls on th’other “.  Of course in the end I find myself more of a whiny bitch like Hamlet.

About a week ago I posted a poll on the most recent Power of Ten blog to see how  you folks thought the Summer of Alf worked out.  12.5% called it a flop, 25% a success and a whopping 62.5% claimed they had no idea why they wasted their time reading anything written on SurfingRuinedMyLife.net.  Let me tell you why you read: for self affirmation.  When you have a bad day or feel like a failure all you have to do is open a web browser, type http://www.surfingruinedmylife.net into it and you are guaranteed to feel better.  Its like “man I know I am messing up, but I wonder how bad Chris is blowing it right now”.  At the very worst you can see that you are not alone in your suffering.  We can cry together thanks to the world wide web and way too much time on our hands. Just because I don’t blog every day doesn’t mean I have not written some ridiculous thing in the Surf Log.

Lets see how I did on that list:

Proclamation 1: Get Back into Music

You ever notice how many pictures I have of me wearing this t-shirt. I have owned it for almost 7 years now. Fuck it has guns all over it making it pure awesomeness! I am going to be really sad when it goes thread bare and I end up using it as a rag to clean my toilet with.

Ok this one is sort of a push.  I actually spent a good deal of time woodshedding and getting my fingers back into shape.  I started ripping on some licks that had me very stoked.  These days I have been favoring my alto and soprano more then my tenor.  On the flip side of things I did not make any real attempt to play out at all and even turned down on more then one occasion a chance to perform.  My friend Meat Cat says it’s because I am a male diva.  No points…

Learn to Speak Italian
This was a fail.  But then again who the fuck was I kidding.  I barely speak English all that well and if not for spell check would be a complete illiterate.  What made me ever think I could brush up on my Italian?  I did pick up a bit more Spanish though.  -1 point

Go Surfing as Much as Possible
I am going to have to call this one a half success.  I did manage to make the most out of the meager conditions on offer and lack of swell.  I surfed mostly local, broke two boards and had some really good barrels. When it was flat I took to skim boarding for some exercise. On the down side I still missed a few too many days as a result of too much drinking and party. One thing is for sure when I did get in the water I had a hell of a good time.  Half point.

Read More books
I  somehow found the time to read three books in the duration of the Summer of Alf and acquired some new cook books that I cooked up some fun recipes from.  Thanks to strange late night drunken finds, thrift stores and the Ventura swap in all its jankyness my collection has grown immensely.  Win +1

Write More
Well I am going to have go with a push here.  I may not have wrote a ton, but I felt the quality of the text was much better then it ever has been.  I came across some blog randomly today and the guy was using cell phone short hand.  I was blown away.  One should never use “u” in place of “you” or “r” in place of “are” anywhere but on a cell phone text.  No wonder the world is falling apart.  No Points

Explore the Greater Santa Barbara Area
This one not so much.  I sort of had a routine and stuck to it all summer.  There was not much of the explorer in me.  -1 point.

Finish the Coffee Table
Nope, unless one is to include spilling a host of liquids and alcoholic beverages on it an improvement.  I guess I am slowly staining the top of the table with red wine and rum and cokes.  -1 point

Drink and Party Less

Big Pimpin’ at the Wild Cat


If you read the surf log then the answer to this one is apparent and no.  One thing I must say is that I partied really fucking hard.  As a matter of fact I think the night after I wrote this list I went out and got black out drunk.   The Summer of Alf brought about the largest number of black outs I have ever had in a four month period and maybe even my entire life.  I woke up in pink seat pants  not knowing where I was, woke up all over my apartment, got locked in my own bathroom.  Did countless activities I could have more or less lived with out.  I hit it hard on solstice, carried it through to fiesta.  There were some drunken Tuesdays in the mix and plenty of sloppy family dinner Wednesdays.  Lets just say I did the opposite here and went hard. -1-hey at least I did not get injured seriously or end up in jail.  Did I mention I also got fired from the produce market as a direct result of my drinking.  That is a first for me.

Other notables
I spent some time in San Francisco at the very start of the Summer of Alf.  You can read about those adventures in “Taking the Bay Area by Storm“.  I got fired from two jobs subsequently causing me to go on unemployment twice.   Alfie still has fleas.  I got passed up for Sous Chef at work for a less capable person who has barely been there three months let alone my three years.  I managed to do absolutely nothing of any substance or value and if anything went into a retrograde.  

My final take on the Summer of Alf was that it was a total and utter failure as per usual.  So be it.  If I succeeded in life then I most likely would not be the fun character I am to read about.  Who wants to read about happy things.  No one! Cause when things were going well for me I had the lowest readership ever.  I’m done trying for the fall.   Fall 2012 is going to be deemed “The Fall of My Malcontent”.

I am not making any proclamations, declarations or aspirations.  I am just going to live and see where that takes me.   My entire life I have always had a zest for living and an agitation for planing.  At the moment maybe that is what has brought me to this dismal point, too much planing.  For the next three months I am going to live by the seat of my pants, throw my chips into the air and see where they lye.

I am going to wake up everyday, take a deep breath and live.  No regrets, no cares, no worries cause what ever happens is going to happen and in the end it will sort itself out regardless.  For the record “I was perceptive,  I always know when someone is uncomfortable at a party”.

Advertisements

Read Full Post »

 

Last night I got home from work, did some laundry, my usual internet prowling then threw on “Good Will Hunting”.  I recently scored it for 50 cents on VHS  and I don’t know if its childhood nostalgia or the fact that I still rock a 23 inch tube television, but there is something so much more inviting when watching a VHS over a DVD.  I have always been a fan of the film.  Say what you want about Affleck, Driver, Williams, and Damon but this film works and is powerful on so many different levels.

The character Will Hunting is a perfect example of human alienation in society.  Here is this extraordinary human being who as a result of a tough up bringing and a remarkable gift has become a societal recluse finding life easier to study on his own, clean the floors of MIT and on occasion secretly answer other people’s thesis projects in a few moments that took its master years to come up with.  When his talents are brought to the light it causes him a whole host of problems.


Would have taken a clip from the actual movie but this clip from “Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back” was just way more entertaining.

The movie got me to thinking everyone in the film had sort of settled into their own personal comfort zone.  I don’t really know if that is a good thing or not.  Lately I sort of feel like that is what I have done.  When I moved to Santa Barbara five years ago I had all these goals and visions of what might become of my life.  Now five years later I must say things have gotten rather mundane.  I surf the same spots, have worked the same job for three years now, am a permanent fixture at the same club.  I made this place my home.  That’s what you do when your home, develop a routine and stick with it.

It works.  I am 100% self sufficient.  I have learned how to make a “dollar our of fifteen cents” and exist in a city where the cost of living well exceeds the average income.  It exceeds my income by at least double.  I guess I am comfortable.  At work I am sure of myself and am working the job to the best of my ability.  Surfing wise I know all the breaks, when their best and for the most part how to ride them the best to my own personal ability.  My living space, ahh the Lisanti Palace.  Lets just say I made genie in a bottle type of situation.

Yet I find myself excruciatingly bored.  As of late that boredom has turned to frustration and even at times anger.  It has me asking “what is next for Chris Lisanti”?  Or is this it?  To quote Jack Nicholson from “As Good as it Gets”, “What if this really is as good as it gets”?  I suppose then the existence I have eked out is not that bad.  Complacently content?  I don’t know.  Have I hit a plateau?  I do live on the Mesa after all.

My entire life I had always been climbing this inevitable steep slope to an unknown peak.  Many of time I felt like Sisyphus.  I realize now that those times of intense hardship may have been the most invigorating.  When I blew out my knee and wondered if my surfing career was over, when everyone in the establishment said I was too commercial to make a dent on the sax, when I was brought to my knees by my ex-girl friend and lost a year of my life to drinking. Maybe  those were the times that were the most stimulating.  I don’t know…

Lets hope that I am just walking through a valley right now in between then next slope to climb.  Santa Barbara is a pretty darn nice valley to be in, my Rivendell.  At the moment I am going to make the most of what is around me and try and stay as relatively positive as a person of my demeanor can.  Heck I am sure there are scores of people who look at everything I have, and what I have accomplished and where I am right now who would happily take it.  I won’t sit here and cry.  On the contrary, this is me just thinking out loud.

Now for the reason I really began writing this.  In about five hours I will be boarding a plane to Portland, Oregon to meet up with some family for my first cousin Rich’s wedding.  I am not really one for weddings in general, besides the open bar and excuse to where a suit.  This is one I could haves easily declined like so many of the other’s in the past.  For whatever reason when I got the invitation a few months back something told me I needed to be there.   Truth be told I have not been anywhere outside of California and Southern California mind you since I went to Australia five years ago.  There was a time when if I was in the same place for more then a few weeks I got antsy.

This is rather out of character for me, but I am rather excited to get out of Santa Barbara for a few days and even more enthralled to get to spend some quality time with my family some of whom I have not seen in almost two years.  Remember I am Italian so to be a stranger for so long is considered disrespectful and borderline ex-communicable.  Also I am not bringing a board and have not surfed since last Tuesday.  I won’t be back till next Tuesday meaning this will be one of the first times not being injured that I went 14 days with out a surf session. I am bringing my computer so stay tuned for some travel blogs via Oregon with pictures and hopefully adventures.  Talk you from Portland folks.

 

Read Full Post »

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.

Read Full Post »

I stood on a bench this morning overlooking the break at Mesa Lane.  It was tiny maybe knee to thigh at best.  The weather was absolutely gorgeous.  Fresh off a new hair cut, I took a deep breath of the warm sweet summer sea air.  There is nothing like the feeling after a good hair cut.  You look at yourself in the mirror when all is said and done and there is this sort affirmation “you have arrived”.  Alright maybe that is a little bit of a stretch, but it is what such means to me.

There  were two guys out making the most of the meager offerings, a grom and his mentor.  The kid was struggling to catch a wave, as I stood there watching his agony. The guy out with him pushed the kid into the next wave.  The grommie stood up and cruised across the the wave’s tiny face.  I let out a giant hoot so loud he probably heard it in the water.  At that moment I felt his stoke and reveled in it.  What a day, what a week, what a month, what a year!

I just stood there in utter amazement of how beautiful the world around me was.  The islands were in full view.  A speed boat with boards on top cruised by most likely en route to the ranch.  A pod of dolphins frolicked along the swell lines. There was an old man walking his dog on the beach and some woman a little further watching her three dogs running in a blissful caper through the surf.

A huge smile was on my face.  I could not help but laugh out  loud at both life and myself.  One year ago (I sort of judge my years now from June 1st to June 1st) I wrote this blog: “A New Normal: The One Year Plan“.  Ironically while checking my daily stats I noticed someone read that this morning and it got me thinking.  What a pathetic miserably sad state I was in when I wrote that on June 30th 2011.  Back then if one would have told me that I would be sitting here writing a blog like this I would have strangled them to death after which committed seppuku.

Last night at my weekly family dinner I have now been hosting for five months surrounded by five  of my regulars, who really have in my mind become family and three new comers to the table I raised a class of champagne and toasted to what is looking like a very bright future.  Before  we get there let me take a minute to remember how arduous a road it has been to get thus far in 2012.

There were plenty of proclamations made all of which were pretty much shattered about a day after they were made much like most New Years resolutions.  And yes more drinking ensued, but  it was more fun drinking then depression drinking and slowly but surely everyday I began to feel a little bit better and a little bit stronger.  I did let a few unworthy people into my life whom I carelessly mistook as having potential.  But that passed too.  We renovated the Lisanti Palace so I could wake up everyday to a respectable looking apartment and want to get on par with my new ambient.

March came around and I saw the departure of Kooky Kyle who if not for him I may not have gotten through November to March.  I was sad to see him leave, but happy to relinquish his duties as keeper of the Lisanti Palace.  He went on to conquer his own demons in pursuit of wanderlust.  You can read about his post Lisanti Land adventures in his occasional segment here on SurfingruinedMyLife.net Kooky’s Korner.

After Kooky the keys to the Palace, ha that’s a joke to anyone who has spent time here(or the butter knife we use to open the laundry room) were passed on to this guy Dan.  He showed up on the scene and met all the requirements I have for a roommate. He did not shoot heroin, smoke meth or crack or any other heavy drugs for that matter, had a steady job and kept his mess to his room and was gone more then home.  The guy was some type of ultimate frisbee champion or something.  I though whatever as long as he pays the rent.

Turns out the guy was alright with me and I guess we have become a modern version of the odd couple.   The thing about Dan is he is super positive all the time always building one up.  When he would come home and find me depression drinking by myself in the dark he brought me out and got my head out of my ass.  No matter what the guy always got me looking on that bright side of things.  He helped fill out my dinner parties and as a result they are becoming quite the event.  Last night I made four contrasting styles of pizza and calzones followed by a splendid peach and kiwi French custard dessert.

This kid Sean I have know for years here in Santa Barbara found himself temporarily homeless and I think every reader here should know by now that no friend of mine will go homeless as long I have a couch.  Shit I have three and a leaky blow up mattress.  Sean came to stay for a few weeks before moving back to Bakersfield with his dad.  As it turned out him and I had pretty much went through the same type of shit over the past year.  Empathy can be rapturous at the right time.  Sean did something for me no one had yet out of all the astounding people that came into my life, each whether negative or positive contributing to where I am right now.  Sean allowed me to open my mind to possibilities I had for far too long been too skeptical to believe.

Last night as I raised my glass to make a toast to my new life.  Before doing so I silently thanked everyone who had a hand in the moment who could not be at my table, in time order: Adrienne, Aniaya, Heroin Bryan, Silly Steve, Sleepy Time Nick, Jules, Rye Guy, Kooky Kyle, Sorbo, Calvin, Dave, Vespera, Danny Boy, Sean, Jennifer, Anna and my always everyday people Ryan, Lindsay, Mauriello who put up with my shit on a regular basis.  From all of these aforementioned people I learned a bit more about myself and capabilities.  A king is only as strong as his court.  Thanks to all these people I will never have to worry about walking around naked unless I so choose “The Emperors New Clothes” style.

What the fuck am I rambling about you ask?  I mean seriously right I have been muttering on for over a thousands words now.  Who do I think I am Faulkner or something.  Well, about two weeks I hit a serious cross roads in my life and was walking the fine line between cashing out on my life here in Santa Barbara, hanging my hat where ever the wind decided to blow me or continuing on the path I originally set out on two years ago when I quit the gas station and got back to cooking.  The whole “growing up” thing and creating a “real life”.  Ultimately I chose the the latter.  Its fine time I stop running.  Maybe this past year was my time in the rock quarry like my fictional counter part Howard Roark (The Fountain Head, Ayn Rand).

I began putting out my resume to anyone and everyone, for any job available be it dish washer, prep cook or chef.  Yesterday I got hired as sous chef at a small bistro in Carpinteria.  Now, its only a trial right now and Monday is my first day, but Westmont was only a trial and that seemed to work out.  All I know is I am ready to meet this new challenge and move forward with the rest of my life.  Enough splitting rocks for it is time to fulfill my destiny.  The best part is all of it is for me and no one else, not a woman, not to impress, but just for my own personal quest to cook the most scrumptious food possible while enhancing my own person skill set.  “Please allow me to reintroduce myself”  my name is CHRIS LISANTI and I am not small!!!

Ahhh yes, here is to the Summer of Alf.

Sometimes in life it is the path more traveled upon that is the hardest to follow. I think I have finally chosen the right road.

 

Read Full Post »

This weeks UCB makes a winner of Kooky Kyle who at press time has quite the lead thanks to snagging some extra points. I post extra point questions everywhere on this site.  There is still one more extra point floating around that I will triple if anyone gets it.  It was like four or five blogs ago I think.  Also the power of ten for June is up for grabs, get those lists in before or on the 30th of they wont count towards this quarter.  Kooky Kyle’s suggestion was “International surfing Day”.  Now I may have wrote on this topic before someplace either here or back in the myspace.com days, but I have new ideas on the whole thing.  

First off International Surfing Day is a FAKE HOLIDAY that was initially created by the Surfrider Foundation in 2004 to boost beach related environmental awareness.  Beach cleanups, pledge drives, bbqs, earth conscientiousness and good vibes on the whole were had.  At the time I thought it was a pretty rad idea even if it was stolen from skate boarding.  Since the late 90’s on a random day towards the end of June an unofficial skate board race was held through all five boroughs of NYC.  The event was completely underground and on the appointed day thousands of skaters would show up and basically clog the streets of New York for a day.  Eventually word got out and International Go Skateboarding Day took its place all over the world. 

At first things were cool, simple and all in good fun.  Then the surf industry stepped in and said lets use this day to hock more product and make more money.  The Magazines jumped on the bandwagon, videographers, pro surfers, surf shops, surf schools and anyone else who makes a buck off surfing.  Today much like the actual sport of surfing International Surfing Day is nothing more then another American Hallmark Holiday (I will coin that one) but with out the cards, although at this point with Target and Macy’s, yeah Macy’s, embracing the surfing lifestyle to make major dinero its only a matter of time before Hallmark will be making “Happy International Surfing day” Cards.  

Maybe it can have a guy deep in the barrel getting burned by some yuppie kook on a fucking soft board arms all flailing going straight fresh out his surf class he paid some surfer business man $100 bucks an hour for.  Sto00000ke! Surfing is so cool.  Or it can have some dick head pro burning some average guy just happy to squeeze an hour in before work.  Either way nothing spreads the aloha spirit like ruining another surfers day.

Happy International Surfing Day!

Lets go back to the Macy’s thing again.  I was suit shopping there the other day cause they were having this crazy 60% off sale.  I actually found a really smooth Alfani two piece Charcoal Grey suit that I am going to wear to my cousin’s wedding at the end of August with a black shirt and red tie.  I am going to be styling.  As I am doing this I walk by an entire surf section with all the brands, Volcom, Quicksilver, Rip Curl, etc.  There was a giant picture of Mic Fanning on the wall, a poster of Taj boosting.  I almost cried then destroyed the place.  Instead I shook my head and was stoked to have disconnected myself from the surf materialistic world.  I feel bad for all my friends who own surf shops lord knows how you compete.

A sneak preview of my new suit. I looked like shit this day. I don’t trust mirrors so I always take photos whenever I am buying a high ticket item. You can imagine when I am all done up this is going to be the shit.

Did I surf on International Surfing Day you ask?  Well if you read the surflog on occasion you would know I did not cause I hurt my back trying to pull a Kerrupt Flip at New Jetty earlier in the week after getting all pumped off it when I wrote about in the most recent power of ten blog “I Gots Power“.  For myself and most serious surfers every mother fucking day is International Surfing Day.  For me it has been that way for 21 years.  I don’t need a special day to get me pumped to go surfing and if you do then you really need to rethink your priorities in life.  There have been a few times in my life when I had forsaken surfing and I was miserable cause I tried to prioritize my life more mainstream.  Then I readjusted my thinking and got back on the horse.

Yes I was a sell out for a long time.  I did the pro-surfer thing, the surf shop thing, and even the surf school thing.  These days I am a complete surfing recluse.  I wear all black wet suits, ride wide surf boards some with original art work done by my friends. I show up, go surfing then as fast I was there I am gone.  No or minimal surf clothing, image or fanfare.  If it was not for my neck tan these days one would not even know I surfed.  I think most people just believe I have some strange skin disease that only allows my head to tan.

Actually I got this chick at the bar the other night to fall for that and almost got her to pity fuck me.   I went up to this woman to hit on her and after a few words I could tell she was over it.  She was doing the usual looking around the club, checking the phone, I am over talking to you sort of thing.  I was about to leave when her friend comes up to me and like a total bitch says “yuck why are you only tan from the neck up?”.  “To tell you the truth I suffer from a skin degenerating disease called pigmititus and can now only tan on my hands and from the neck up.  Its similar to the skin disease Micheal Jackson suffered from.  I must say I am a little self conscientious about it and now you have embarrassed me and I must leave”.  I turned to walk away and she grabbed me and was all apologetic bought me a shot of Patron and then chilled with me the rest of the night.  It was classic.  Now I know how that dude in the wheel chair pulls all those chicks.   Stupid California girls, got to love them.

In a world where commercialism has taken over every facet of life (phssst if your a hipster, if the majority of the population has embraced your style then you are not too hip anymore) it is sad that surfing has been taken down with it.  On the up side with anti commercial warriors out there like Dane Reynolds and Bobby Martinez maybe more will follow and we can take back the soul of surfing.  In the meantime Taylor Steele made a film recently where he picked one random day and filmed surfing all over the world on that day. No special title needed.  Here is what International Surfing Day is really about:

 

Read Full Post »

I must admit the last two days have been tough for me mentally and emotionally.  I am trying to stay strong, but its hard.   Deliberately acting out of one’s naturally ordained character can be very trying on that same person’s animus.  I don’t believe I was predestined to be happy or positive.  Thus this thinking I could ever actually be happy is a rather big stretch to begin with.  

I always like to go back to the Aldous Huxley’s take on happiness in Brave New World “Happiness isn’t grand and can only truly be realized by the simple of mind”.   Then I read Voltaire who in Candide presents happiness as the ability to “Tend one’s garden” to best of his own ability.  Garden in this sense being symbolic for life in general. Finally I took a look at Henry David Thoreau and “On Walden” , his personal life long quest for true happiness being true to yourself and your own beliefs.  To be honest I don’t really know how happy Thoreau was in life.

Up until I read his works in college when I was younger I had yet to really find an author that veraciously embodied myself.  I could in some respect be his reincarnation if such a thing is possible (I have just recently been exploring the spiritual side of things courtesy of my new couch guy Sean).  What ever salvation or delirium he found it was by living rather simply and wandering.  Simple was the common theme here.  

Now I am an intellectually inclined person or at the very least would like to think so.  I will admit that yes I can be a very miserable person to be around.  In my childhood I was down right wanton to be around.  In many ways I guess I still am. I don’t believe I did it on purpose it was just in my nature to constantly shake the tree.  When such an action is taken the results are many times adverse causing my spirits to fall.  After a while I just assumed a negative out look on the world around me.  My mother once put a smile or frown face on a calender for a whole year to prove such a point.  

As I got older and did more reading, thinking, traveling and overall gathering of life experiences I came to realize that I should be able to control my own destiny and emotions.  Being such I got better at changing the way I saw things.  Looking through “rose colored glasses” so to speak, “the bright side of things”.   Its fucking hard.  I find myself constantly torn by contradicting thoughts and emotions.  I fight it well and really do try and stay in the positive frame of mind.  It has for the most part worked out for me over the past few years or so.  

Then there is surfing.  An entity in my life I curse as much as praise.  The most frustrating yet rewarding part of my life.  A true paradox, oxymoron.  Yesterday afternoon I was on the phone freaking out telling my mother I was ready to cash out on my life here in Santa Barbara and move on to either Australia or New Zealand.  I still may.  Then I went surfing and had a hell of a surf and my perspectives changed.  I was stoked, came home cooked a scrumptious dinner for my roommates,watched a Seinfeld and passed out merrily on my couch.  

I woke up this morning and scored really fun Rincon.  I’m not going to go into the details of the surf sessions you read the surf log for that.  It just sets my mind at ease.  These days even the bad sessions bring a sort of solace over me.  I was just talking to a buddy of mine who just recently got back from a surf trip and has yet to surf since.  The first thing I do when I get back from a surf trip is go for a surf if it is ride-able to wash away the annoyance of travel.  Its truly is my soul.  

I find myself constantly fighting this reality.  How is that my essence of being is locked up in a feeling that last no more then a fraction of a second at most times?  Yet it doesn’t.  For me that feeling lasts the entire day.  Even the memory or telling the tale of an epic surf rejuvenates me.  Then the question comes up “can I really surf the rest of my life”?  At some point my body will be too decrepit to remain and then what?  

At the moment I find myself attempting to build a life that would have me surfing less and less all in the pursuit of happiness?  Surfing for me is happiness.  Its crazy talk.  I look around at my current apartment and all the THINGS that I have, the furniture, wood floors I added.  “Nice things” as my ex-wife used to put it, some one who has definitely traded surfing for a “real life”.   In the accumulation of these nice things I have sacrificed so many hours of surf, and good ones at that.  Why?  So people can come over my pad and tell me how nice it looks and how I am finally an “adult”?  I could have surfed all over the world for over a year on what I spent to make this place look nice.  

At the moment I am working on a life compromise.  For me compromising is the hardest thing ever.  If there has not been much writing here lately I am sorry, but I have been working through many serious thoughts and emotions.  I have to lump the two together cause for me they are in most cases synonymous.  At the moment I am at a very crucial cross road; which ever decision I choose will with out a doubt decide the course my life for a very long time.  The decision I have to make is if what I should do and is according to society the “right decision” is the right decision for me.   Maybe I’m not suppose to have nice things. Instead maybe just maybe I am suppose to do great things.  If the ability to have nice things completely trumps my ability to do great things then something is wrong.  

“All men aspire to greatness, yet so few succeed”.   

Perfection is out there and for some reason I don’t think it is found in a compromise.

Read Full Post »

Looks like Kooky gets another stick on the board this week.  First off let me say that there were a bunch more topics more formidable thrown out there and I am sorry if there are any hard feelings.  Those really good topics require a lot of forethought and planning.  At the moment I am just not up to working that hard.  I was also too lazy to look through all the comments thus I decided the first topic that peaked my interest and made me laugh was getting the green light. 

Kooky asked I write about bubble time of which I think he may have experienced or at least happened a few times during his tenure in the Palace.  He gets 1 point for his efforts.  No one has yet to snag the bonus question I threw out there in last weeks UCB.  As a result I am going to double its value, now worth 2 points!!! Go back find the answer and take the points.  Don’t forget to get those Power of Ten lists in by May 31st or they won’t count for the month. 

Bubble Time

I am crazy as we know and any last strain of sanity I was clinging to all left the building months ago.  I was lost and found myself in depths of my psychotics.   Your not really free until you give up everything you thought you believed in.  I think we get clouded on a daily, weekly, monthly, yearly basis by all sorts of influence both positive and negative that cause us to get lost in what really matters in life. 

I have been lost my whole life, then again maybe being lost is what defines who I am and my ability to exist in this counter dimension.  Over the past ten years I filled my head with all sorts of ideas and beliefs that most of which did not belong to me at all.  I shook a few off here and there, then gained a few more, shook a few off, gained a few more…Do you see a cycle developing?  I let everything, everyone, our society in general turn me into an entity I could not even recognize when staring myself in the mirror.

When you finally remove the painted veil and stare blankly at yourself and are astounded at what you see and who you see then you know it is time for a change.  I had that opportunity and it scared the shit out of me and I did not know how to handle it or life in general.  I coped with this in a menagerie of ways one of which was bubble time.  

When Ades and I first broke up I could not handle my emotions, mainly the random out bursts of anger.  My temper and rage problem was one of the entities I wanted fix in myself.  Some how breaking all the furniture in my apartment over and over again “Dewey Cox” style was not only nonsensical but rather costly.  I began running out of surf boards to smash as well.  Poor Alfie was afraid to come near me. 

One day I was walking in some random park here in town and found a bottle of bubble solution and a giant bubble wand.  Please don’t judge me, I think bubble time is far better then throwing bums shopping carts full of shit over bridges at 3am.  I looked around and there were no children in sight.  I did not want to be stealing some poor kid’s bubble stuff.  No one was around for that matter except some smelly bum passed out in a puddle of his own urine. 

I opened the top of the container and there was a small bubble wand attached to the lid.  I blew a few bubbles and watched them blow away in the wind, reflect the sunlight in pretty little rainbows and ultimately float down to the ground in scrupulous manner before imploding.  I was miserable walking through this park where I was hoping the piss laden bum might stab me with a dirty shank or needle.   But when those bubbles started to soar all around me I became rather jovial.  I was full on giggling.  How I was not committed to a mental institution that day is beyond me. 

I ended up emptying the entire bottle then laid down under a tree and took a blissful nap.  When I came to I proclaimed that I would no longer have negative out bursts of rage or despair, but instead have bubble time.  I went out and bought a dozen bottles of bubble solution (till I realized all I needed was some dish washing liquid and water).  The giant bubble wand just upped the ante even more.  Now I could blow enormous bubbles bigger then my head. 

Whenever I was having a bad day I would go out into my yard and let the bubbles fly.  There were still the occasional fits of rage and depression drinking.  Overall bubble time slowly began to take over.  I am sure there is some psychological disorder for how I dealt with my emotions and probably some type of treatment or drugs.  All I have to say about that is “you can stuff it in a sack” (half point for that reference).   Sometimes its perfectly ok to be crazy.

I must admit I have not had bubble time in a while now.  I have not needed it.  I am proud to say I have learned to keep my emotions down to a controlled elevate.  To this day I still keep a bottle of bubble solution in my car just in case and the bubble wand is hanging on the wall in my kitchen for easy access in an emergency.   What if we could just have bubble time instead of fighting?  What then….BUBBLES YEAH!

 

Read Full Post »

« Newer Posts - Older Posts »