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I checked my mail when I got home tonight after yet another obnoxiously intense day at work courtesy of incompetence of extreme proportions.  Most of which were not of my own causing.  I hate checking the mail and it is a task I seldom get around to accomplishing.  Usually I let if fester in the box till it is so full the mail lady will actually bring it to my door step and leave it there in a rubber banded ball of postal fury.

The reason I made the great effort to walk the extra 41 steps from my couch to my mail box this evening was in the hopes my new debit card would be waiting despite the asinine 7-10 day period the very charming call center operator said it would take. What happened to my old one you might wonder? It was lost in the rapture of a Wild Cat party.  Yep no real surprise there.

kitty1

When you live the high life the occasional lost card is a consequence one must accept. 

I had actually managed to hold on to said card for nearly two years.  That’s a long time.  Though it is an even longer degree of time when one is the age of two for it is that person’s entire life time.  As we grow older this seemingly long interval of time to us as a child is now no longer then a snap of a finger.  What is two years, or five, or even ten for that matter when your head is buried down to the grind stone?  Its nothing unless one stops for a moment to reflect on all that passed in that period.

For myself the past two years have been a whirl wind both personally and professionally.  If you read here regularly then I don’t have to elaborate cause you already know.  If not feel free to peruse some of the posts on here from the epoch in question.  I can assure it won’t take long for creatively I was a bit spent as a result of the constant emotional bombardment I took on a regular basis. Thus that brings us to the point of my imbecilic ramblings.

Recently  just up until I lost that card a few major changes in my life have taken place or at the very least seeds for some serious change in the near future.  I don’t know how much of this I really want to get into at the moment or even at all with some of it.  As much as this blog has been a vehicle for relief, reflection and accountability for my life and my own actions at times I wonder if my writings here had about as much control over the outcome of my life as I did.  Certainly some of what I wrote altered the course of the world around me.

I still want to write here and I think my silence for the past two months beside of course the surflog has been the fact that I didn’t really know what direction I wanted this blog to go in.  I am going to try something new here.  I want to tell some of my old surf tales from back in the day.  Write more surf related articles.  Maybe try and write something with a bit more substance then some of the crap I used write.

Things are changing and I think, really believe that the tide is finally turning for me in this life.  That’s all I have for now.  I know this is a bit of a cryptic post.  For now it’s all you’re going to get.  Kind of a dick move on my part considering the lack of posts lately.  I blame WordPress.com for making me feel guilty about not writing anything in two months. Hope this made up for it. Oh and its Rincon season again!
Rincon111015

 

 

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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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Book XVIII is Tuesdays with Murray, by  Mitch Albom, 1997: 192 pages

“Once you learn how to die you learn how to live”.  Like I said I have been blowing through books lately and at times have not even had chance to write about what I am reading when I am reading it.  Tuesdays with Murray is not a book I would normally pick up.  For one thing it is late 20th century American Literature where I am more of a fan of 17th-19th classics  and mainly British Literature.  An anonymous person, maybe a guardian angel even,  had sent it to me in the mail.  As I said in an earlier blog if someone is going to go through all the trouble to send me a book and even fold pages in it they thought were important for me to grasp, finally inscribing the cover, well then I certainly will not ignore.  To my mysterious benefactor I thank you for your kindness.  I found the text to be very heart warming and I think I am pretty sure I get the point you were trying to make.  Its nice to know that someone out there cares enough about me to take an interest in helping me get back on track with my life.

Since reading this book I am making a serious effort to control my excessive drinking habits. I am far from there yet but you know what I am taking baby steps towards something.  I am really trying to love myself.  A good friend told me after Adrienne and I split up “how could you have ever expected to love anyone when you don’t even know how to love yourself”.  This is a really hard one for me.  I have spent the better portion of my life thriving in self loathing.  I know that seems like an oxymoron cause my ego and arrogance are so prevalent.  I assume I use them as an easy defense mechanism to hide my rampant low self esteem, awkwardness and insecurities.

Albom wrote this thing about self pity “I thought of all the people I knew who spent many of their waking hours feeling sorry for themselves.  How useful it would have been to put a daily limit on self-pity.  Just a few tearful minutes and on with the day”.  Honestly I really try and do this.  I only give myself very short windows of self-pity when it comes on then I shake it off and get “on with my day”, my life for that matter.  I am still pretty lost in life at the moment, but at least I know where I have been, where I don’t want to be and where I do not want to return.

This book is about a beautiful man on his last months of life and his seemingly simple yet ingenious realizations that I feel many of us forsake never to realize the errors of our ways till it is too late.  One thing I really have to give Tuesdays with Murray credit for is that I was about to take this Sous Chef job at a new restaurant downtown.  They had offered me a substantial raise, and a chance to really spread my wings as a chef.  The hours and hardships were to be long and hard.  At the moment I really love my job and everyone I work with.  Next to surfing it is the second happiest place I spend my time at.  Sure I am not making very much money, but if I made more I would just spend more and my situation would still be same.  One thing I can say with the utmost certainty all the wonderful people in my life love me for me and not my money and that my friends is priceless.

Tuesdays with Murray is good beach reading.  It’s written at a very philistine level.  At first I was put off by such.  Being a Literature snob and all I like to be challenged with my reading.   Maybe Albom wrote it that way so it could be enjoyed and learned from by the masses.  Its with out a doubt worth picking up.

Book IXX: The Call of the Wild, Jack London, 1905: 176 pages

“Mercy didn’t exist in the primordial life, It was misunderstood for fear, and such misunderstandings made for death.  Kill or be killed, eat or be eaten, was the law; and this mandate down out of the depths of time he obeyed”. What a book my friends.  I was at the Ventura swap last fall with Kooky Kyle looking through a pile of junk marked “Everything $1” for something hideous to buy Mauriello for his Birthday when I came across this book.  Kooky found some piece of trash he wanted so we bargained with the guy to get the whole lot for a buck.  Since he was some toothless meth head who probably found all that stuff in the trash anyway he complied.

I finally got a chance to sit down and read it, a book that supposedly people have read by 8th grade.  I am glad I didn’t cause I would have missed so much.  In 8th grade I would have thought it nothing more then a story about a dog instead of a struggle for survival and acceptance.  Basic plot is a Southern Californian pet dog circa late 1890’s is kidnapped and sent up to Alaska to be used as a sled dog for gold rushers.  The book outlines his trials and tribulations with such.  After reading the previous book it was very refreshing to read really good writing. I laughed, I cried and in the end held my head up high.  Read it I promise it is better then anything on the boob tube.

I read the signet edition which also included short stories Diable-A Dog; An Odyssey of the North; To the Man on Trail; To Build a Fire; Love of Life; all of which I also found riveting. London has found his way into my heart and favorite authors.  I think I am going to move to Alaska, get a sled team and train for the Iditarod.  I already started training by spending more and more time each day in the walk-in freezer at work.  Oh and I forgot to mention Alfie is going to be lead cat…

For our next book lets read some Voltaire and enjoy Zadig for book XX.  Happy reading.

This is going to be me and my dogs some day!!!

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I thought I might write something worthwhile tonight then I opened a nice bottle of Chianti and half a bottle later don’t feel like it.  Instead here is how the Summer Quarter of the UCB contest went down.  First off there was plenty of laziness on my part some laziness on your part, but hook or by crook some writing was done.  As I said in an earlier blog, there may have been less material but I for one thought what got written was of some better quality.  Here are your UCB Winners.

1st: John Mauriello – 3 points
2nd: Kooky Kyle – 2.5 points
3rd: Kiefer – 2 points

Now going into the winter quarter we have two wins for Kooky and one win for John.  Lets see where things end up this time.  Will Kooky be champion for his third straight year in a row or will John be able to unseat the champ????  You cant win if you don’t play.  Of course no one can win unless I get off my lazy ass and write.   If your completely lost I believe there is a little tab at the header of this page that says “UCB”. If you click on said tab it will fill you in on the stupidity that this is all about.

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The Columbia River from the Washington side looking up stream.

I awoke face to face with nothing but scenic vistas in all directions and gigantic evergreens in my vantage.  The air sort of had this extra freshness to it as I stepped out on the balcony of the house I a was staying at and gazed out over the river.  Im not used to looking at a body of water that ends so abruptly.   Still though the veiw there was rather breathtaking.  If  you were to throw in a point break I would be set.  I can’t remember if ever, the last time I saw so many trees.

The baller house I have been staying in. Nothing but the lap of luxury in Lisanti Land folks even on the road.  Lets just call this Lisanti Pacific Northwest HQ for this series.

To think less then ten hours ago I was in Santa Barbara who beautiful in her own right is like a completely different world.  Its been a long time since I had to do the whole travel thing, at least a year.  Besides the usual hassle of travel I also had the headache of a new roommate moving in while I’m out of town, a transition I would have really liked to have been there for.  I had family business in the form of my cousin’s wedding and since he did come to my now defunct marriage I figured I owed him the same favor.  No; I did not sleep with the bride. (everyone I told I was coming up for this wedding had warned me about such including my own mother.  Even I’m not that encouragable.)

I arrived super late with no major travel problems besides some over booked seating problems in San Francisco that caused a minor ten minute delay.  My new roommate dropped me off at the airport. I gave her a hug handed her the keys, told her please don’t wreck my car, kill my cat or burn down my apartment.  If I return and she has managed all three of these feats, completely destroying everything I have worked so hard to accomplish in the last few years I think then I am just going to cash out and get on a plane with nothing more then the clothes on my back and start a new.  The irony in that the remainder of my life I secured on my own to be completely destroyed by a woman is priceless in a literary sense.

One thing I must commend having short hair on is the ease through airport security.  What used to be a real nuisance of double security and full body checks now is a smile and “have a nice flight”.  Not traveling with a coffin chuck full of surfboards makes life much easier as well.  Having no checked luggage for that matter. I had the last fight out of the night and got into Portland after midnight.

My mother and I stayed up late catching up on things.  It was really nice to see my parents after the long time apart.  Next morning I cooked up a nice breakfast of omelets, toast, home fries and sausage. From there we decided to explore the bit of the up river portion of the Columbia River on the Washington side.  The goal was to work our way to the Bonneville dam to see the fish ladders.

This little guy only had about twenty more steps to go!

The Pacific Northwest and the Columbia River is riddled with dams.  In this area Salmon need to swim up stream in order to spawn.  These dams make getting to their breeding grounds near impossible.  In order to save the species and thank god by the way cause those guys are tasty mother fuckers all of the dams in the the area are build with a intricate system of steps and switch back so these fish can get past the dam.  I have always read and seen pictures of the system but now with it right in striking distance I had to go.

The fish ladders on the Bonneville Dam. They have to climb 75 of these against the current. If I had to do that just to get laid I think I would not even bother.

On the way to the dam we past this giant wood carving of Sasquatch that I made my dad  stop for a picture.  I mean how could I let that not happen? It turns out this was the entrance to the actual town of North Bonneville.  I would later find out as a result of an expansion project on the dam the town was moved about ten miles or so down river cause its original location was right on the plain that needed to be flooded.  Isn’t progress grand.  The poor fish have to bust their ass climbing countless steps against the current and an entire town had to pick up and move.  God bless America! Hey everyone gets cheap electricity. This town had this cute little park with all of these life sized wooden carvings of Sasquatch and I must say I got a kick and a half out of it.  Which meant lots of stupid pictures.

This is my Dad and I. He was not about the showing his sasquatch claws.

After losing an hour playing around with the wooden sasquatch we continued on to the dam.  Although it was far from the biggest dam I have ever seen the spill ways were going, which I have never seen before.  There was tons of water shooting all over the place.  I was sort of enticed on the notion of getting in a little boat and paddling around but none were to be found.  Turns out the dam was open for tours.  I could not turn down such an offer.  I had a choice of the turbine room or the fish ladders.

The Bonneville Dam spill ways in action!

Being my dad used to build power plants for a living I had a very good idea how turbines worked but have never seen fish swimming up stairs.  Inside the dam they have built these windows where visitors can actually view the fish swimming up the stairs.  It was pretty entertaining and then I found another job I need to work before I die.  In the fish room there was a lady hired whose sole job was to count the fish as they went through the dam.  Her job title: fish counter.  New life goal, become a fish counter.

We horsed around the dam, my dad got cut by some of the dam barbed wire (sorry couldn’t help myself) before we were thrown out at 5pm for closing time.  All that fish watching made me hungry for some salmon.  Before getting some fish we decided to visit a lake in the town of Camas.  Being from the ocean we find all these rivers and lakes rather novel.  It was nothing really to write home about, just your basic lake.   From there we procured some salmon and went back to Lisanti Pacific Northwest HQ.  I cooked up a nice grilled salmon dinner over risotto with roasted corn on the cob.  I don’t think one could ask for a more full day. Click here for part II.

Here is a slide show with some of the other photos I took from Day 1:

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Who likes to party? We like to fucken party!

I have known this girl Micheala from my home town back in New Jersey since my buddy Bojangles dated her when she was 14.  Years have passed like their relationship.  Thanks to the wonderful internet perpetual waste of time FaceBook.com her and I began communicating pretty much right around the time Adrienne and I were falling apart.  It was nice to have someone to talk to especially someone who was an outsider to the situation.  When I was home in NJ over the summer playing some shows with a Santa Barbara based theater group, Proximity she took me around the NJ night life scene and even managed to get me to go out for a grovel  surf or two.  See A Trip Back East blog for more on that trip.

I was rather appreciative since Nick the Kook my usual partner in crime when I am back East was in Chile causing trouble.  You can read about his adventures on his blog Staywet.net.  The lazy fuck has not written anything in a while.  I need his incoherent stupidity to help myself feel better about the garbage I write.  As a token of my gratitude I offered Micheala a pass to Lisanti Land anytime she wished.  She had been claiming she was cruising for a while during her winter break.  I was skeptical.  People always tell me they are coming, but end up never making it, Keifer, Cory.  Cory may still be waiting for me to pick him up at LAX.  At this point he is like Tom Hanks in the movie Terminal.

To my surprise she ended up making it out here in early January and spent a solid seven days.  Now whenever I have a Lisanti Adventure Tour I always ask the recipient what he/she want to get out of the trip.  Santa Barbara is my town and if it is going down here and you want to be a part of it then more times then not I can make it happen.  My connections here get stronger every day and my own person wanderlust spirit has helped me to become a connoisseur on the town.  Whether it be surfing, skate boarding, wine tasting, hang gliding, sailing, island tours, whale watching, hiking, party, sky diving, breweries, events etc, I can make it happen.

Micheala was looking to surf and party as much as possible. These two options happen to be some of my stronger points as if this blog has not proved already over the years.  First night I had her at the Wild Cat sucking down rum and cokes with the boys.  I think I may have thrown in a round of Adios Mother Fuckers just for good measure.  It was a Sunday and those never disappoint at the Kitty.   A good time was enjoyed with out a doubt by all.

Next morning I had the day off.  The options were to either go down south and surf the beachies there or run up north to Jalama where conditions looked rather favorable.  I left the decision to her being she was a guest.  “I want to go get the biggest waves you can find” was her reply.  Remember folks in Lisanti Land one must always watch what they wish for.  We rolled up north and it was solid.  I was really only expecting chest to head high fun surf.  Turns out the beach break was easily 6-8ft and Tarantellas was breaking.

Like a bone head I forgot my wet suit back in Santa Barbara.  It was agreed that whomever got out first would allow me to use his suit between Sorbo or Kooky so I could get a few.  The gang paddled out at Tarantellas and were all rather shocked with the extreme gnarl factor and power of the wave.  Kooky fell in love with it.  Micheala and Sorbo found it a bit more then they were looking for.  Thanks to Kooky I managed to get a few fun ones too.  It was a splendid day on the beach.  Nice weather, good conditions and a very light crowd.  I think everyone had a great time.

That night Micheala wanted to keep the party going and then set the precedent that we were going to rage ever night till she left on Friday.  I do not think I need to tell any of my readers here about my party capabilities, but Micheala’s program nearly had me throw in the towel.  It was seven very exhausting nights of pure ridiculousness.  From druken fights, to samurai swords through living furniture, to urban golfing, calling a lady about her missing cat at 2am, throwing fruit and lord knows what else at one another on a drunken walk home, bizarre dancing on the cat walk and dance floor, vomiting behind dumpsters, after parties with Mexican gangsters.   You name it we did it that week.  Then after she left instead of taking the night off Kooky and I went out to the Kitty and I threw an after party that went just about all night with nearly thirty heads in attendance.  Good times.

Micheala also got a scrumptious home cooked meal from the Lisanti Kitchen.  By request Kooky and I served up grilled chicken pasta primavera in one of the best alfredo sauces I have put together yet.   Unfortunately thanks to starting up work at Westmont one meal was all I was able to prepare.  I had limited time to give to her tour as well.   She was an adventurous one and had no problem taking her skate board and meandering her way all over town.

She got a really fun day at Rincon where I believe she got one of the better waves of her life.  Learned first hand just how bad of a wave Leadbetter really is and got to sample my New Jersey wave away from home, New Jetty.  On her last night Sorbo and I decided to build a barricade of chairs to the ceiling in front of her bedroom door and then backed it up with the living room couch just to show our endearment towards her.  By far I think it was with out a doubt one of the heavier Lisanti Adventure Tours to date.  That’s the challenge out there for anyone willing to risk their skin in Lisanti Land, get more ridiculous then Micheala.

Here is a little slide show of some of the ridiculousness.

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The Lost Cat Video:

 

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Well it all started or ended I should say two months ago (Read Bowing Out  and One Last Perfect Day blogs if you are a new reader.  To my old readers Im sorry for the constant relinks but I have recently picked up a bunch of new readers who missed what I would consider two of the best blogs I have ever written.).  Since as most of you know things here in Lisanti Land have been a bit dicey, somber and even a bit morbid at times.  That was my grieving process in action.  I went through  about two cups of sadness, a touch of anger, a bit of despair, a pinch self pernicious and 32 ounces of denial.

The denial really was the toughest part for me and the one that was most crippling.  I kept thinking she would come back and that I actually would take her back.  Why would I ever want to return to a situation so fucked up as the one I found myself in three months ago?  How could I have ever thought I could share the same air space with someone who could treat another human being, especially one whom she supposedly loved and who loved her back, so vile disgusts me now.

Monday was the big day for me, July 4th.  I celebrated out nations birthday and what would have been our two year anniversary finally unpacking the remainder of articles I had piled up in the corner of my room.  MY ROOM!  I hung all my old pictures on the walls, put up some new ones there was no room for when she lived in my home.  MY HOME!  MY LIFE!!!!  By doing this I accepted that fact of it being my life and no one else’s.  I did not only accept it I embraced it.  I was an amazing, great person before I met her and lived a beautiful life, which I enjoyed.  Now I am going to start living again.

I am through living in the past.  No, the life of Chris Lisanti exists in the present and the future looks bright, spectacular even.   There was one more integral thing I needed to do, something I have been thinking about for the past six months.  I wanted to cut my hair.  A new style for a new me.  A  drastic hair change for me is a huge step.  Keep in mind I have had the same hair style since I was 23.

I was ready to get the ball rolling about a month ago, but I needed to pick a style and then find a stylist I trusted and who would not charge me an arm and a leg.   My friend Pepper helped me narrow down a few possibilities using her 19 year old perspective.  Then my friend Jamie came through with a stylist, her stylist, Elyse.  Right from the get go I just knew this girl was going to be the one to create a wonderful new look for me.  She took the time to feel out my hair profile and then went to town.  If your in Santa Barbara and in need of a spectacular hair cut let me know and I will connect you with Elyse. She will do you right.

As she hacked off more and more hair I began to get very apprehensive and even a bit remorseful of my hasty decision.  When all was said and done and she combed it out for me I was grinning from ear to ear.  Not to float my own boat (who am I kidding I am the king of narcissism), but I looked incredible.  I gained a whole new sense of being and self confidence that comes with looking and felling good. I don’t know what is going to happen next and quite frankly I don’t care.  All I can say is that its going to be a damn fine time!

Looking all shaggy before the cut.

Ladies and Gentlemen I am proud to present the new Chris Lisanti. 🙂

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