Well about a month ago I started to tell a tale about Heather and I in “Whats Been Goin Down in Lisanti Land” blog. Since then I pretty much have fallen off the face of the earth as far as blogging is concerned. Although that is not entirely true. If you are an avid reader of the surflog then you already know most of what I am about to impart here. In that case consider it a more in depth recap of a very strange, emotional and trying month in Lisanti Land. Those of you who have been on the edge of your seat I really hope you didn’t fall off.
When I last left off Heather and I had decided to take a break or more like she decided she needed more time for that break. I did my usual grieving and spent the weekend at the Wild Cat finding my way to fancy town with Bizarro and the usual regulars. I had by that point just about written the relationship off. Fuck, I am a pessimistic person after all. Its so much easier to figure you are going to get screwed in the long run. This way if you do get screwed at least you knew it was coming and if you don’t then you are pleasantly surprised.
It all started at work on the Monday after the above mentioned Wild Cat romp. I was lamenting of my pathetic situation as most despondent poets and love enthusiasts do in such a situation to my buddy Hugo. Hugo to his credit has been with his girl friend for about a year or so and in his own way is rather romantic about it. If he reads this he will probably shank me for stating that. He told me straight forward “If you love her then fight for her”. I didn’t really know what to do or how to do it.
She wanted a break and space. How could I manage to make contact with her with out violating those wishes? Then the gears started to turn in my head. I immediately went to Shakespeare and re-read Romeo and Juliet. Alas that romance would not do for it did not apply to us. I thought harder into my archives and then it hit me. As You Like It, was the perfect place to start. Just as Orlando went into the forest of Arden to woo Roslyn I to would take up my quest to the West Side of Santa Barbara for my Heather. I hate to say it, but I think I would rather spend a night in the Forest of Arden then on the West Side.
I know I denounced flowers and poetry years ago after failed attempts with both Adrienne and Vespera. Then again that is the language of love. At first you don’t succeed, try, try again. With that on my mind I proceeded. It also helps to note that I figured I had lost her forever anyway thus what harm could a little courteous harassment do? I decided that at seven days before we were to meet I was going to leave her a flower and poem a day on her doorstep every morning.
Flowers in Victorian times, when matters of the heart and lust were done more discreetly held many different meanings to their beholder. I started with a singe yellow rose for friendship on the first day with a small poem and elaborated every day after. I was making custom bouquets, hand picking cards from this salvage shop downtown that went with the message I wanted to convey. I even potted a small arrangement in her grandmother’s antique flower pot she had left in my yard.
Mentally I was barely sustaining through all of this. On one end the effort put forth gave me a sense of hope. On the other a higher sense of despair. We were suppose to get together on a Thursday, but a deadline at work had her unable to meet me. Discouraged, yet not put off I rescheduled for that Saturday, 10/19. An alarming email sent by her to me, which I may have looked into a bit too hasty caused me to cancel and reschedule for that following Tuesday. That’s the problem with email its way to vague. I hate technology. Lets just go back to horse and buggy times.
Years ago I scored Santa Cruz with Mauriello. This was Middle Peak at Steamer Lane. On this swell it could have been just as good if not better
Then I got hit up Sunday morning by Mauriello claiming quite the NW swell was to hit his way. All signs pointed to Santa Cruz being epic. If I was to go I would have had to bail Monday night after work and not bet back into the Barb till that Thursday. The allure of scoring some of my favorite SC spots was very appealing. I almost pulled the trigger on it. If I were to blow Heather off yet again what kind of message would that have sent?
After much deliberation I decided for once in my life to go with my heart and not my crazy surf addiction. I regrettably declined John’s generous offer to score three days of what could have been some epic surfing. My life has been full of amazing waves and as hard as it was to not grab a few more I knew there would be plenty more opportunities to get barreled in my life. If I had blown off Heather that could have been my last chance. To my devote surfing readers believe me the decision sounds crazy. At some point in life surfing will not be able to fill your every need and want.
At this point in my life surfing although is still at the forefront of everything for me it is not my end all be all. Consequently the surf was absolutely shit here in the 805 during the time span I was suppose to be scoring up north. As it turned out Heather ended up canceling on me due to her not feeling so well. I knew she was not blowing me off. When you were with some one for as long as I was with Heather and as intimate, you know when they are telling the truth or not. We rescheduled yet again for Thursday, 10/24. At that point I was bummed I had not just pulled the trigger on the Nor’Cal’ trip. While I stayed home and agonized John charged size-able Ocean Beach.
Ok, I dont think it was this unruly, but Mauriello lives for this shit. Nothing but big cold closed out barrels!
Thursday came and I must say that I woke up with an air of calm relief that if was finally time to face my demons. Yet at the same time I was as nervous and anxious as I have not been in some time. Unfortunately my shitty boss roped me into working the early shift by pulling a dick move and putting me on the schedule for the AM shift with out telling me. I work and have been working pretty much the same schedule for the last four years. That being the case there is no point in me checking the schedule ever. Since I didn’t check it if I didn’t show up it would have reflected as an attendance demerit. After so many demerits you get a write up and after too many write ups you get fired.
At the moment I am on somewhat thin ice as it is. One because I can’t help but flap my mouth around when things are bull shit. Two because this whole Heather situation has had my attention and concentration highly diverted, not to mention my nerves and patience lacking. Three my drinking problem which I developed post Adrienne makes me a liability at times. All my higher ups need is a valid excuse to can my ass with out my being able to go to human relations and demand a fair labor hearing. Isn’t working for a big corporation awesome! If I get fired I am going to have to move on to my back up plan which is sucking dick for crack and then selling the crack for a profit. As glamorous as that life sounds I think I will pass on it.
I pulled myself through a shitty work day made worse by the feeling of the unknown of what the out come of the evening would be. I am talking beyond butterflies. I could not even eat. When 3:30 came I planned on bolting home and getting prepared both physically and mentally for the evening. As I was cleaning up my station around 2 pm I got a text from Ryan that Rincon looked fun. No matter the verdict of the night I thought there no harm in bailing out of work an hour early to go score some fun Rincon. Lets face it nothing makes me feel better then a good session at the Queen of the Coast.
No matter what life sends me its all left on the beach especially when that beach is Rincon.
I got a few fun ones up at Indicator and River Mouth and for at least an hour I was able to forget my problems. Or lack there of respective to people who have real problems in life. To each their own. The starving kid in Africa wishes he had the scraps thrown away by a low income American, who intern wishes he could eat filet mignon. Meanwhile the rich recollect on those bygone days when he was young and free and not so tied down by all his worldly assets. Its all relative. With a better mindset I drove home ready to face whatever my fate would be….
****To be continued. I know what an asshole I am. First I don’t write anything for over a month and then I leave you with a cliff hanger. Well read the old surf logs from October and November if you really can’t wait. Its late now and I’m tired. The rest of the story is pretty good and I do promise all the feeling and emotion that may have been graced over in the surf log and even some hindsight looking back over the situation. In the meantime here is a cute picture of Alfie to tide you over.*****
Surfing Ruined My Life 