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Chris Lisanti & Alfie

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

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 !

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.

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.*****

Black Cat with Crazy Hair

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LisantiIntrospecWell 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

LisantiWestmont

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!!!

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.

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.

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

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The-Wedge

I have had many request from all of my of my friends that I get off my lazy ass and do a bit more writing.  Some wanted horrific tales from the vault of the Lisanti Past, others were looking for recipes, and then some just wanted some new adventure tales.  I hope over the coming weeks to make everyone happy and a bit disturbed by the content as usual.  I thought I would start with the tale of a recent Lisanti adventure, a common California adventure at that; Chasing a solid south swell.

Summertime in coastal California is not quite what all the songs, pictures, media, movies and television would have you believe. Most of the time the weather is foggy, damp and cold. The ocean cold and windy.   The surf, unless you live in San Diego or Orange county is less then amiable.  Up here in Santa Barbara unless you have a boat, access to the ranch or a plane ticket to Indo you might as well put your surf board away and take up lawn bowling.  Unfortunately for me I have none of the above and left my bocce set at home when I moved from NJ.

If one of you readers wants to send me a bocce kit I promise to drink one for you at the Wild Cat!

If one of you readers wants to send me a bocce kit I promise to drink one for you at the Wild Cat!

What do I do?  I fucking get in my car and I drive at least 45 miles a day to surf sub par surf in a frustrating crowd.  Wait, isn’t that what the California dream is?   Shit folks the California dream ceased to be a dream 60 years ago if it ever really existed.  Its more like the California nightmare now.  We all know I love to suffer.  Actually this season has not been as bad as usual.  We had a month of NW wind swell that gave consistent surf and even a few epic days with some south swell thrown in for good measure. Check out the May edition of the Surflog for more on that.  In my book there are few things sweeter then a late season NW.

When the Queen looks like this you would have to be crazy to go anyplace else...or would you?

When the Queen looks like this you would have to be crazy to go anyplace else…or would you?

This story begins on May 28th 2013 down near Antarctica.  Antarctica?!? WTF! Truth be told that is where most south swells that grace California with their loveliness begin.  Of course on the 28th a south swell was the last thing on my mind.   I was too busy capitalizing on local wind swell to even notice any action in the south pacific.  Then a few days later Surfline.com had a feature on this crazy swell that rocked Tahiti.  At that point my attention was grabbed and I knew it was only a matter of time before it would show here.  From Tahiti the swell traveled to Hawaii giving the boys on the South Shore some fun ones.  Once in Hawaii it was only a couple of days.

By June 6th front runners began to show up.  The morning was still a bit down thus I decided to sleep in hoping for some action in the afternoon.  Solimar Beach was the spot for me after a great deal of deliberation.  This time of year surf is hard to come by and the wrong decision is a fate worse then death.  Every wave squandered is a flat day you will be kicking yourself in the near future.  I really wanted to utilize this swell to its fullest extent.  The reef had some solid rights to be had with a very light crowd.  I always seem to surf Solimar on the beginning of  large south swell.  It is a cool wave that bends around a horse shoe cobble stone reef usually covered by sand.  From the beach it always looks pretty mushy which keeps the crowd down. Actually its a pretty fast bowly wave when your on it.  It sort of reminds me of Noosa a little bit.

I got a solid session in and felt although deeming it “the best of the worst” a rather fun session.  The next morning things really began to get big.  Unfortunately for me too big for my usual south swell jaunts in the area.  When I went to bed I was dreaming of all time Santa Clara.  Instead I was faced with walled close outs and strange wind.  I wanted to go to Malibu and most likely should have.  I let the fact that it was a Friday and the immense crowds that goes with it keep me at home.  Later I would find out that even though the crowd sucked there were still plenty of waves.  Once again after lots and lots of checking  I found myself settling for the “best of the worst” at Pitas Point.  Through my binoculars down the beach it looked like it was firing.  After paddling my boy Ryan and I would soon find things to be a bit more sectiony then we would have liked, not to mention very inconsistent.

The only really worthy session of September looked something like this only bigger!

This the sort of Santa Clara I was dreaming of…

I had always heard these rumors up here that El Capitan, one my favorite right hand point breaks actually will see surf on a large south swell.  Apparently it sneaks through the gap between the Santa Cruz and San Miguel Islands.   I needed to see if the rumors were true and this swell seemed perfect for that.  I got up there a little later then I should have thanks to some chores that needed doing.  Afraid I had missed my window I was walking  to check it when a stoked older dude parked in front of me yelled “get your board and go dude, its on”.  Like that I found myself trotting down the trail.  When I emerged from the woods sure enough there were waves!  An older guy from Santa Barbara told me once while hanging out in the car park at Manu Bay in Raglan, New Zealand that one can tell a good point from a great point by how it holds its shape no matter what the swell angle.

El Capitan did just that.  It was only around chest to head high with a light crowd of local vets and very inconsistent, but my friends it was perfect.  I only caught 9 waves that session.  6 out of the 9 were wonderful keepers.  I can surf El Cap so well, I guess anyone can cause it is so perfect.  It is just one of those waves that makes anyone feel like Kelly Slater on it.  That is until you see Kelly Slater surf it…  Anyhow it was just one of those magical sessions that make you remember why it was you started surfing in the first place.  Later I would hear that the session of the day went down at C street that evening.  Fuck it, I hate that wave anyway.

God damn, why do all these swells have to fall on the weekend and a weekend where I had at least two party obligations to fill. A boys night on Friday with Bizarro and my boy Daniel’s going away party, which I was throwing for him at the Wild Cat.  As a result morning sessions were completely out of the question.  I know some surfers are reading this right now thinking “I can’t believe Lisanti is blowing it like that”, while I see it as a balance between the two worlds I exist in.  Balance my friends is everything in life.  It only took me 32 years to realize that.  Man cannot live by surfing alone.

Saturday I found myself a bit more hung over then I would have liked (still have not figured out that balance thing when it comes to alcohol consumption) causing a very late start.  I was still a bit sick to my stomach as I climbed the dunes at New Jetty where I heard the morning was near to all time.  There were long lines coming through, but overall things looked a bit soft and still very inconsistent.  My boy Pat hit me up that he was in Malibu all morning and was about to go back to surf Leo Carrillo.

I don’t go to Malibu on the weekend, ever!  He claimed the crowd was not bad and given I didn’t really have a better option I jumped in the car with him.  You know what it was a great call.  I got to surf the best Leo I have ever surfed.  By Leo standards and a weekend the crowd was not bad at all.  It was tough to get a set wave off the old guys and long boarders.  That was fine cause I enjoy the inside double ups better anyway, plus the sets were too big and most closing out.  I managed to put on a very strong backside performance holding it down for the goofy foot contingent.  Fuck, give me a wally lined up right any day.  That shit is my bread and butter.  Later Pat and I had a look at Hueneme Pier and he was frothing.  It looked decent enough.  I had to get back to the Barb for Daniel’s party.  It went down without a hitch.

By this point I was dead set on a Lower Trestles mission.  I had not been there since ’11 and I was thinking Monday would be the day.  I texted Trevor and planted the seed in his head.  My tires are bald on my car at the moment so the only way I was going to be able to partake in such an ordeal was if I had a driver.  Sunday I was in bad shape.   I cut down on the party and my body has totally lost its tolerance to take a beating and keep on.  I heard New Jetty was on again that morning.  I headed there for low tide.  Although very inconsistent there were a handful of decent lefts coming in.  I paddled it.   There were a few fun ones to be had among the lulls.  Later that night I returned home to a text from Trevor that he was in for Lowers.

The reality of surfing Lowers.

This is what a Lowers crowd looks like

Monday morning we made  the three hour drive south in high spirits.  We got there and it was way more crowded then I had hoped for.  As a matter of fact I can’t remember ever seeing that many cars parked on the San Clemente side.  It was decent Lowers in its own right.  The crowd was miserable and sets inconsistent.  That is a very bad combination.  My stoke was gone and part of me wanted to jump back in the car and just drive another 45 minutes south to Blacks Beach.  It was Trevor’s first time and who am I to rob him of a bad surf experience.  We paddled.  Despite a pack of annoying groms training for nationals next weekend we both found a few keepers.

Who can really hate on an entire day spend on the beach with your bud?  I fucking can.  I got sun burned.  My eyes hurt from all the sun and as of press time my back is sore from carrying all my shit down there, my neck stiff and my fucking knees hurt from too many really bad frontside air reverse attempts cause I suck at surfing.  In all seriousness it was a fun day and I am glad I went to remind me why I never go there.   At the moment it is flat with not much happening for at least a week.  Fiji just got some sick waves for the contest (congrats Kelly on another mind blowing victory) so its only a matter of days before we see the remnants of that swell. For more details on the surf sessions, party or swell visit the June Surflog.

Here's to the next good South swell and Go Slater for number 12!

Here’s to the next good South swell and Go Slater for number 12!

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Westmont Flyer

 

About a week ago I was at work chopping onions and crying my eyes out when I felt the presence of someone standing behind me.  Sure enough it was my head boss.  I assumed I was going to get scolded for a variety of reasons or instances, which most likely would have been warranted.  Expecting the worst I put on my George Costanza frustrated face preparing to pretend like I a gave a shit.

To  my surprise instead of it being the usual negative feed back I have come to love I was asked to come up with and execute an Italian menu for a special event at the Westmont Dinning Commons.  My first thoughts were “awesome more shit I have to do for way too little money”.  Then I warmed up to the idea and decided to really give it a go.  I have been boasting for years that if I was given the shot I could turn out a scrumptious meal.  Finally I was handed just that.

I sat down with my friend and Sous Chef Chantelle and we figured out a good, feasible, cost effective menu.  I am not one to use my own personal recipes with anyone especially for commercial purposes. Those are mine for my restaurant if I ever decide to be ambitious again.   My heart was in this project and I committed two of my original dishes. By the weekend I was rather excited although a bit nervous.  We always do special events like this at Westmont and on paper they sound amazing, but in reality by the time they get to the front line it is far from what we had hoped it to be.

One of the Sausage Sicilian Pizzas

One of the Sausage Sicilian Pizzas

Wednesday was the big day.  We had Sicilian style Sausage, Pepperoni and Cheese pizzas for our  pizza station, an authentic Anti Pasto Salad on the salad station, Fettuccine Florentine on the saute station, Chicken Parmigiana Sandwiches on the grill station.  On top of that there was Chicken Marsala over spaghetti.  I did my own personal Pasta alla Rossado and Eggplant La Fresca as well.  Chantelle was amazing in helping make my vision come to fruition.  If it was not for her hard work and organization I don’t think I could have pulled it off.

The Anti Pasto Salad

The Anti Pasto Salad

She had everything prepped out the day before, a strategy and a check list.   And ff course the infallible help from all of the other cooks in the kitchen with out whom this task would have been impossible.  When I first walked into the kitchen Wednesday morning I was a bit apprehensive about how things were going to go.  In the end we all pulled it off and considering all the positive feed back I got on the entire meal I must say even my negative ass would have to deem it a success.

Fettuccine Florentine

Fettuccine Florentine

Italian-Day-Line

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ONE MOTHER FUCKING BLOG IN THE ENTIRE MONTHS OF BOTH FEBRUARY AND MARCH!!!!! WHAT THE FUCK!!!

Lisanti in a Tree
How fucking lazy is this guy?  I guess you would all be correct in these accusations.   I really had no good reason not to write other then the fact that I just couldn’t come up with anything worth while to write about.  I thought just as I have the past two months I would bring everyone up to speed on just exactly what has been going on here in Lisanti Land.  So here goes.

Chefing it Up

Or a lack there of.  Well last month I had this bull shit going on with Sodexo where they were actually robbing me of over $250 a pay check.  After nearly three weeks of phone calls, fights, death threats on  my end I was finally cut a check of over a thousand dollars.  After taxes that amounted to just around $800.  Thank you Uncle Sam for taking my hard earned money and doing nothing with it (who am I kidding I don’t work very hard for my money at all.).  Thank you Sodexo for lumping it into one big check so that I could get twice the amount of taxes on it.  Isn’t America a great country?

As of press time Sodexo still owes me $254.14 of which I am just too damn lazy to go after at the moment.  The rest of my job well lets just say it is the same bull shit it has been for the last 4 years.  Then again how can one really complain about a position where he pretty much gets paid to hang out all day and cook the occasional piece of food.  I just about found the food service equivalent of the gas station.

The Ladies Man

I don’t know if one could truly call me this, but I guess I do get around a bit.  I mentioned at the end of last month’s update that I had rekindled a lost romance from a few years ago.  A month later I must admit that maybe there is a reason things went south the first time around.  Mainly because things never “went south” if you catch my drift.  Yeah I know I’m insatiable.  In all seriousness she was a fine girl and all, but just not the one for me.

Things were actually going well for a couple of weeks.  Then courtesy of an illness on her part I had not heard from her for about eight days and deemed her dead.  When I finally did hear from her I ended up seeing her once, got stuck walking her shitty fucking dogs (we all know what a fan I am of doggies) and being scolded for not having any ambition in life.  I have to say I was rather fed up and disgusted by the whole ordeal.  Then we played phone tag for about a week or longer at which point I just decided to let it burn.

In the interim during that eight day period when I thought the above mentioned party had died I met another member of the female persuasion.  Where did I meet this one you ask?  At the Wild Cat of course.  I actually owe the whole thing to Bizarro.  We were suppose to meet at the Kitty a few Saturdays ago.  Bizarro got too drunk and never made it. No big surprise there.  I was flying solo thus more inclined to go and meet new people.  I have been seeing this new girl ever since.  Things are running alright so far.  I suppose time will tell.

Dirty Laundry
Dirty Laundry

I sort of feel like I have been spending the bulk of my spare time doing laundry, thinking about doing laundry, hustling quarters in order to run the washer and dryer, folding laundry, going to the dry cleaners, mending damaged laundry, at the moment I am waiting for my laundry to finish while I write this.  It never ends.  Then I turn around and my hamper is full again.  If I don’t have laundry to do Bizarro is over here doing his laundry since the machines in his building sucks ass or my girl is here mooching my change to do her own laundry being that she does not have a laundry room where she lives.  At this rate I should just move into a god damn laundromat.

Doing laundry is always a battle here in my complex since there is only one washer and dryer.  Each is a buck twenty five meaning a $2.50 round trip.  I always assumed laundry room etiquette to be like bar etiquette with a pool table.  If there are quarters on the table then you have fives on it.  The other day someone was using the washing machine but I really had to do a wash of my work clothes.  Since I was doing nothing but watching all of the Lord of the Rings movies in sequence I figured I would wait it out. I decided that I would put my quarters in the slots of the machine thus indicating that I had the next load.  Thirty minutes passed and I still heard the washer going and now the dryer too.

Mind you I live directly in front of the laundry room and can hear everything when I open my front door.  I ran over to the washer and sure enough some infidel stole my change and used my wash.  I wen back into my house and pulled a full half gallon of cranberry juice out of the fridge and dumped it into their wash.  It was a load of whites.  Don’t fuck with laundry room etiquette or Lisanti justice will bite you in the ass.

Surfing

My whole entire winter season came down to a total of 45 minutes at Pitas on March 7th, my sister’s birthday as a matter of fact.  It was about as good as Pitas gets and I must say if the wind had held out I totally would have called in sick to work.  Alas it did not.  I will take those few amazing rides to the bank, especially in this winter of let down and heart break.  You can read the March ’13 edition of the Surflog for more on that. Besides that session March was another blow out.

Sleepy Time Nick Died

Remember my old roommate Sleepy Time Nick from the fall of ’11?  It’s ok if you don’t he was easily around 4 roommates ago.  They do pass through the Palace fast now don’t they. Anyhow Nick lived here for about four months of pure insanity.  During his tenure Lisanti Land was in a bit of disarray.  Anyway Nick was a sweet kid who got mixed up in some rough drug problems.   Ultimately we had to oust him from the apartment as a result of such.  He ended up moving to England with his dad and getting clean for nearly 18 months.  He faltered and died in March of a Heroin overdose.  Although Nick and I had our problems I can’t help but be saddened by his untimely death.

If there is one thing I have realized is that we all walk a very fine line between sanity and insanity, life and death.  Some of us are more precariously perched then others in this life.  My life has always teetered on the bring of destruction  yet stayed on the line.  At the moment I cannot help but feel a strong sense of tedium with my current direction.  Then again I really have not had a direction to move in over the past five years or so.  I find myself at a loss of whether it is a good tedium or bad.  To me the word tedium by itself just seems negative.  Tedium may just be the theme of 2013….

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Where have I been?

Why have I not written?

Whats going on?

Whats going wrong?

Hmmmm…Its been a while my friends since I took the time to sit down and write an actual blog piece.  As always I have tried to continuously on a daily basis update the surflog, which at this point has mostly become my day to day journal.  There is always some type of worthwhile reading there if your bored, be it stoke, refreshing, ignominious or out right appalling.  As I have said since I started this thing back in 2006 I am who I am. I have not ever made excuses for myself or on my behavior and I am not about to start now.  If you don’t like it you don’t have to read it.  Besides I believe the true judge of a person’s character is not on one action to the next but the overall purpose and intention of that individual.

We all make mistakes it is what makes us human and so endearing.  Its how we decide to rectify and learn from those mistakes that is important.  Being able to admit one’s own accountability is the key to living free.  I come across so many people in my day to day who love to point the finger, pass the buck and play the blame game.  It was “his or her fault”, “this happened because of that”and my personal favorite “I don’t know?”.  It took me nearly 32 years to figure out my biggest problems in life stemmed from the fact that I was constantly caught up on who to blame for my impediments instead of how to fix them.

I have been spending an assemblage of time thinking about the above and many more aspects of my life the past few months.  The month of February really threw me for a loop in many ways both positive and negative.  I was left ultimately at a good deal of times completely at awe of what was going on around me or dumbfounded or both.   I found myself swept away on a whirlwind of a ride physically, mentally, emotionally and financially.   Up until this moment I was at a loss of the proper words to express myself here and too mind boggled to write the usual drivel I put out.  So sorry if I left everyone in the dark.  I will try to write a little bit more going forward.  For now here are some of the highlights I failed to convey in the 28 days that passed.

The Chris & Chris Birthday Extravaganza, Feb 2nd-3rd
Chris & Chris
It all started back in the fall when I constantly kept bumping into this dude either on the walk to, at or coming home from the club.  Turned out he enjoyed the party as much as I did, could keep up with me and most nights completely out drink me.  His name is Chris also, lives across the street from me in the identical building as me, in the exact same apartment as me but backwards and it also is apartment A.  He is born on February 5th, Im born on the 4th and we are both from New York originally.  As a result of this strange coincidence he became known as Bizarro Chris.

It did not take long for us to pair up and thanks to that partnership quickly climbed the ranks of the social echelon of the Wild Cat.   It only made sense then that we should throw a macker of a birth bash.  We invited many, some came.  The party started at 9pm at my house, moved on to the Wild Cat round 11ish where we did double bottle service and had two booths reserved.  We did a bottle of Bacardi for my table and a bottle of Jack for his.  All I can say is the night at the club was top shelf and everyone in attendance had a hell of a good time.  Then it was back to my house where the party ran till 5:30am Sunday.

Yes I did manage to make it to work by 12:30pm only a half hour late and we went out that night as well.  My 32nd birth day was one for the books for sure.  If you missed it then you blew it cause if you were someone I knew then you were invited.  There is always next year.

Show Me the Money (or lack there of)

This past month also reminded me just how much I hate the institution of money and the extent of which it can drive a person crazy.  There was a time many years ago when I was preoccupied with the idea of amassing great wealth.  Owning big houses and driving nice cars.  Then I realized that in order to do that you have to be a deceitful,  corrupted, perverse and completely selfish individual stepping on as many people and ruining as many lives as necessary.  Hey it’s cool, why share the wealth when one person can have enough money to make thousands live comfortably.

As for myself I have learned to live and thrive in a rather low maintenance, low budget, high out put existence.   I am referring to my new ability and appreciation for living with in one’s own means.  Years ago I lived beyond my means and it ran me to ruin.  I could not handle the stress or the run around.  I also could not justify spending all my time working when there was a wonderful world out there to enjoy and explore.  Yeah I don’t want what most would call nice things.

Instead I have useful things.  I have a reliable car that gets me to where I have to go.  I live in a very adequate apartment that to me is a paradise.  We know it here at SurfingRuinedMyLife.net as The Lisanti Palace.  It may not be a palace in any form or tense of the word, but just ask anyone who has spent anytime here they will tell you it felt more like home then the Taj Mahal.  For me true wealth is found in a fun surf session, a walk on the beach at sunset, my weekly dinner parties where I find myself nearly brought to tears as I am surrounded by such a wonderful collection of people all who have learned to embrace a splendid evening of good old fashioned human interaction.

The finer things in life I like to call it.  You can’t put a price on that. It seems certain rich people have decided to put a price on my life.  It all started in January and has steadily exacerbated since.  Its funny how people who already have so much have no problem taking more from those who have so little.  Maybe it was because I was happy and content with the little I had?  All I can say is they can take everything material away from me and it is not going to change who I am and it is certainly not going to change how I live.  CHRIS LISANTI IS NOT FOR SALE.  That is all I am at liberty to say on this matter.  Just know at the moment there are a number of greedy people looking to cut up my assets like a key lime pie.

The 401K Debacle

I don’t even know where to begin on this one.  Lets go back almost 4 years ago when I first started working for Sodexo over at the Westmont College Kitchen.  I was bright eyed and bushy tailed, thinking this was the start of a new and prosperous future.  Turns out the whole thing was a crock of shit.  I just fell into a dead end job where my efforts go unappreciated, my vigor misunderstood and my good natured feedback ignored.  I guess for the first time in my life I finally found out what it means to be just another cog in the corporate machine.

Although not super stoked I was alright with it.  The job paid my bills, allowed me to have some fun with cooking and gave me plenty of free time to enjoy life in a rather stress free environment.  On February 14th that was all about to change because this particular day was a Thursday.  Thursdays are paydays at my work.  I actually forgot to grab my pay check not getting it till the following Monday since I don’t cash that shit till Tuesday anyway. Its self preservation. If I go out to the club with a full bank account on Friday come Monday I wont have a full bank account.

Upon taking my check to the bank I noticed it was for half the amount it should have been.  I frantically studied the pay stub for answers.  There it was right in the little box reserved for my 401k deduction.  Normally that deduction is 3% and since the fund will match that at the end of the year its like free money making my participation in the program a no brainer even if the odds of me living to age 59.5 are slim.  After that three percent there was a new deduction called “401k supp” and that took more then half my pay check.

I went to see my boss about it and he stared at me blankly and replied “well that could be problem”.  First I called ADP the company responsible for our payroll. Two Indian call centers later and one American operator I finally got to speak to someone in charge, or so they would have me believe.  I was told it was an error impart to the 401k trust, which is handled by the investment firm INT.  I called these guys up and a twenty minute death hold and two supervisors later that all they took was 3% and it must be a payroll error within Sodexo.

I then called the Sodexo payroll department and they blamed INT who then blamed Sodexo and so on and so forth.  This went on for a matter of three weeks, meanwhile every week half my paycheck was mysteriously vanishing into thin air.  As of press time I am owed $866.22.  I barely made rent, can’t pay any of my bills, don’t have enough to even buy food. I guess the joke is one me.  I was told last Wednesday the matter was being handled and “someone would contact me”.  Well no one  contacted me, the money was not refunded and I am almost certain come Thursday I will be out another 25o bucks making my total loss over $1000.

Yeah I am a little stressed, but mostly saddened by the whole ordeal.  Now I am trying to find a labor lawyer who would be willing to work probono so I can sue.  I hate litigation and the painstaking process involved.  All the while my bills are still going unpaid.  At the moment my back is up against the wall.  If anyone out there has the power to help me fight this thing please hit me up cause right now I am David trying to fight Goliath but I don’t even have a sling shot.

Some Positive Stuff

Surfing

February decided to bring on a few decent days of surfing.  It also saw a revitalized Chris Lisanti and I managed to put in some real water time again.  You can read the February 2013 page of the Surflog for more on that and look for a surfing recap blog soon.

No matter what life throws at me there will always be surfing.

No matter what life throws at me there will always be surfing.

I Met a Girl

Ok, you got me I meet lots of girls, but its rare I meet one that is actually worthy of my esteem enough to call her a woman.  Its even more rare when I feel so inclined as to want to call her my own.  Ironically this happened on the 15th right after the whole 401k anal raping started.  I was out at the Wild Cat in my black on black pinstripe suite, black tie, red shirt for the Wild Cat’s annual Red and Black party.  I am not going to lie I looked pretty fucking killer.

As I walked into the club I was caught by a flash from my past.  At the bar there was this really beautiful also very well dressed chick I recognized well.  It had been nearly two years since we had out little fling together, which due to a lack of propriety on my part (big surprise there) ended a bit ugly.  It had been almost a year since I had seen her and I didn’t even think she lived in Santa Barbara anymore.

Shit she was in my club (if I was on foursquare I would def be the mayor there) the least I could do was cordially greet her.  We exchanged the usual niceties such a meeting requires in proper society and went our own way.  For me at the Cat on a Friday night I have a lot of rounds to make and drink for that matter.  Seeing her had me lost in the rapture of “what if “.  I don’t dwell on such form of thinking that often, but to be honest our falling out was one of those moments that from time to time I did meditate on.

I always say you miss 100% of the pitches you don’t swing at and never give up.  I took a page out of my own book walked up to her and asked if I could call her sometime.  She complied.  Since then I must say things between us have been going rather well.  That is all I am going to say about it here cause I don’t want to jinx it.

There you have it 2,000, words on why there were no blogs in February.  Unless your special it should now be obvious that I had a rather full plate this past month.  Cut me some slack with all the “Where have all the blogs gone crap”.  I do hope to get more writings up here in March.  Don’t lose the faith cause I sure haven’t.  Thanks as always for reading.  It warms my heart to know all of you are out there.

 

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Some days I wonder why I even get out of bed in the morning.  Things would be far better if I just stayed under my warm covers on my comfortable mattress with my cat sleeping at my feet.  Life would just be so much easier.   Yet every morning I drag myself out of bed and for the most part force myself to make the most of the meager sphere of influence I exist in.

Sure my life seems pretty simple to all of you sitting at home or in your cubicle reading my drivel to kill time or what have you.  Most people have responsibilities, a sense purpose or even just a need for a sense of purpose to keep them going.  I don’t have that.  I get up day in and day out, punch the clock for eight and half hours at a mindless job that a monkey could do if properly trained and sanitized.  Meanwhile over the past four years I have watched my sanity slowly slip away.  This is another entity I am very ok with.  A sane man in an insane world cannot be sane.

The majority view me as insane yet I view the majority and how they behave to be crazy.  Just like that I mentally dropped out of society.  The problem with living in your own world is the consequences of what happens when your fantasy world collides with the “real world”.  This is a terrible predicament I find myself constantly reliving over and over again.  Two steps forward followed by another ten steps back.  I am not going to lie most of, if not all of it is my own damn fault.  It took me thirty years of my life to finally take the blame for my own actions.

I am a bad decision maker.  Let me rephrase that.  I don’t think they are bad decisions they just don’t fall into line with those of the mainstream thus ultimately that difference of view I have on things makes them bad decisions.  One can always justify his own actions in his own mind after all.  From time to time these bad decisions come back to haunt me. It is for that reason I shall always be caught in the rapture of myself.

At the moment I sort of have a pile of bullshit suffocating me.  It is taking all of my physical, emotional and mental strength to keep on.  If I have not had much to say here I am sorry for that.  I have been advised that it would be very adverse to talk about what is going on in a public forum such as this.  For now I need to keep it all inside, which has never been healthy .  I promise that when everything is said and done I will elaborate in many, many words here.

Just know that I am fine and surviving.  This too will pass.  It is not for those in troubled times to remorse on how they got there, it is only for them to use the time they are given to do their best to persevere   What I will say is that I have not been hitting the bottle as a result of what is going on and nor have I been tempted to.  I think I crawled into a bottle long enough over the past two years and now that I have crawled out I am not about to fall back in.  I will try to keep writing my usual stuff here.  Just know that I have a lot on my plate at the moment and it is taking up the bulk of my concentration.  As always if your hard up I do update the surflog every day.

Yeah this pretty much describes how I feel at the moment, damned if I do, damned if I dont.

Yeah this pretty much describes how I feel at the moment, damned if I do, damned if I dont.

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