Posts Tagged ‘Sad’

Fuck the 4th of July, what a terrible day.  As far as Im concerned it could be whipped off the calender altogether.  I mean whoopty fucking doo for America and all, but I think I will sit this one out thank you.  That being said the initial plan for the day was to sleep for majority then move on to heavy drinking, moving on to straight up black out drunk.  Even the best plans of mice and men go astray in life.  I awoke at 6:30 am with a shitty head ache from drinking till I passed out the night before (aint alcoholism grand folks?).

The sound was excruciating in my ears, likened to a blaring knife piercing my ear drums deep into my brain.  Then I realized it was just the sound of my cell phone ringing.  Lindsay being the persistent little one she is kept calling till I got reluctantly got out of bed to take her surfing.  I checked the report and buoys and things looked less then appetizing.  On a hail Mary mission I decided to strike out for Jalama.  I had yet to make it up there this season and what better time then on a Holiday when it was bound to be crowded, small and windy.  Happy 4th of July!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  Also I have been dying to test my car’s handling capabilities on the Jalama road.  Since Im still alive we can safely agree that it passed (Death wish foiled #1).

Upon arriving to the bluff over looking Cracks it became obvious that the tide was way too low and the SW wind already taking a toll on it.  On the plus side there was almost no one out.  Against my better judgement (who am I kidding I knew exactly what I was about to get myself into.  One phrase: Death Wish Baby!) and Lindsay’s mortification I made the call to run up to Surf Beach.  For those of you who don’t know about surf beach it is this sketchy, sharky, cold, unruly beach break just north of Jalama on Vandenburg AFB.

Surf Beach was featured in many of the old myspace.com blogs and just recently here on surfingruinedmylife.net in the blog: When We Become Food, about a fatal shark attack that happened there in October of 2010.  Since that incident I had not surfed up at Surf Beach.  The place has always been known to be sharky and the entire time out there one is constantly looking over his shoulder in wonderment of what may be lurking beneath.  Its a deep water spot out in the middle of no where and more times then not it is super foggy and there is no one surfing.  I have soloed it there too many times to count and let me tell you all those times I was pretty much shaking in my booties the entire time.

I pretty much avoided the place like the plague for the past nine months.  This morning I found myself standing on the dunes above the lineup staring out into an empty ocean with a solid marine layer making the outside bar unrecognizable.  I saw four guys paddle out but never saw them again once they entered the fog bank.  Lindsay was dead set on not surfing and I was hardly motivated.  The only redeeming factor for me was that I wasted the time and gas to get up there, when I could have already had polished off my first bottle of wine for the day.  Bye bye liver, hello dialysis (Death wish plan #2 foiled).   Nah, if my liver goes I’m just going to sharpen up the Samurai sword I found in the trash outside my apartment and commit seppuku.

Ultimately we saw a set of rights run down this sand bar that got us frothing and we decided to forgo our original hesitations, shark or no shark we were on it.  The water was surprisingly warmer then I had expected and was fairly tolerable.   Lindsay and I got out there and the fog immediately got thicker and the four other guys whom we had seen paddle out were no where to be found.  After nearly twenty minutes of strenuous paddling I made it to the outside bar.  I looked back for Lindsay but she was no where to be found.  I managed to get a few choice rides out there before realizing I had fallen victim to the intense current and needed to get out and walk back up the beach.

Im not going to lie I was a bit scared to be out a few hundred yards from the beach with forty feet of water under me and a fog bank too thick to see more then five feet in either direction.  The first thought that went through my head was that if I got taken no one would even find out till Lindsay gave up on me.  Then my death wish instincts kicked in and I was well at ease.  Of course with my luck being the way it is I survived unscathed by the mouth of the sea’s most vicious predator (Death wish #3 foiled!!).  We surfed two drifts before calling it a day.  After the second drift we had not realized the current had shifted polarity thus walking the complete opposite direction in the fog for an easy 500 yards.   Surf Beach is like the mother fucking Bermuda Triangle.

Lindsay was a bit freaked out by the whole experience, meanwhile I was rather proud of myself to finally get over the fear I have harbored for Surf Beach through the last nine months.  It always feels good to conquer any type of  adversity.  I also realized that I guess I’m just not going to die.  For whatever reason no matter how hard I push the envelope God just wont let me leave this earth.  Everyone says its because he has a higher calling for me.  I just think he wants me to rove across the planet for all of eternity perpetually pathetic and alone.  Whatever the case as long as there is internet you will be able to be entertained by my daily torment, the torment of living.

On the way home I pushed my luck even further by giving a ride to a sketchy character who had just gotten off the train from LA and needed a ride into Lompoc.  I guess he had been shot down by everyone else in the lot.  I looked at it as a prime opportunity to get that stabbing I have been hoping for out of the way (read the opening paragraph of A Guilty Pleasure to get the lowdown on that).  Turns out John was a really nice guy who had just moved to Lompoc and is studying business at SBCC.  He used to work as a cook back in LA.  He was a totally chill guy whom I was able to stoke out without doing anything more then giving him a ride to a destination I was passing through anyhow (death wish #4 foiled).  Lindsay was super against it and all I had to say to her was that there may come a time when she is in need and would be so lucky to be graced with a similar kindness.

After that I treated us to a victory lunch at a spot John recommended called the Jalama Beach Cafe.  All I can say is that the food was superb and the service top notch.  If you ever find yourself in Lompoc be sure to stop in to the Jalama beach cafe for a bite.  I know it will be my new spot for every Lisanti Adventure Tour that makes its way up there.  That folks is how I turned what was to be one of the emotionally hardest days of my life into a bit of positive.  As Biggie Smalls says in Juicy “I love my life because I went from negative to positive”.

Fun surf, but what lurks beneath?

Spared this time...

Just about as gnarly as a shark attack, seppuku.

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Well this morning we have a very special UCB for all you little kiddies out there in cyber world.  John Mauriello wins this week or I guess it really should have been last week, but I dont really give a fuck cause its my shitty ass blog and I will do what I want to.  Anyway he asked about my new found passion for lurking.  Sure he posted it about a month ago, but it was very appropriate to the situation.  If this is a bit incoherent it is because I have a little bit of the bad medicine in me (rum).

I think first off I will start with the dictionary meaning for lurking and it reads as such: ” to lie or wait in concealment, as a person in ambush; remain in or around a place secretly or furtively”.  If that is what dictionary lurking is let me explain what Lisanti lurking is. Its really grand and super classy.  It also follows the same principles as the above definition.

Lurking is the derogatory name I deem to going out to the bar, club, party or any place for that matter with the sole purpose to pick up a chick and fuck her.  After which you will never see her again and most likely never even have gotten her name.  Don’t you know that is the best way to interact with your fellow humans of the opposite sex, especially ones you should be looking to pair up with and spend the rest of your life with.  At least in the animal kingdom the male just flat out rapes the female and gets it over with.

No, as humans we find ourselves more then superior to our four legged foes.  Instead we use our cunning intelligence to out smart the female using a combination of looks, intelligence and of course alcohol to achieve such desired results.  In all respect the female does the same.  Fuck she is probably a more ruthless predator then a man.  At least men are for the most part obvious about their intentions.  Women on the other hand act all innocent, nice and decent.  Then once you give them your heart they turn around and fuck you over.  That is because every last one of them is nothing more then a filthy stinking whore.  Fellow males out there if you have a girlfriend, fiance,  or wife and think she is happy guess again.  If she has not fucked some guy behind your back yet, well she probably will later.  Especially if you treat her well.

Here is how a lurk works.  I get dressed up in my best cloths and I go out to the bar.  Immediately upon entering I case the place out to see what talent lies with in.  Then I figure out the game plan that will work best for me to prey on some unsuspecting female counter part.  End goal: to get her back to my place where I can hopefully objectify her by fucking the shit out her all night with out ever getting her name or caring to learn a thing about her. If I can get her out of my house in time for a mid day surf  and never see or hear from her again even better.

How is that achieved, by saying and doing whatever it takes to make it happen.  Your kind of a con-artist.  If you have a good wing man then you most likely have an entire repertoire down.  It is like when lions hunt they pick out the weakest zebra in the heard coax it out and then nab it.  When you lurk you find your mark and basically do the same with out the eating alive part, unless your some kind of psycho killer.

Yeah I claim to be a gentleman, but I guess that is a load of bull shit!  I’m just a mother fucking scum bag like every one else out there trying to get mine before it gets me.  Except there is one catch I don’t lurk anymore.  I cant lurk anymore.  As a matter of fact it makes me nauseous even to think about such a thing.  I find that to be a funny fact because I used to thrive on such an act.

No, I think I’m fucking done.  I had my time and it passed.  I don’t want to lurk.  I don’t want to drink.  I don’t want to feel terrible anymore.  I’m tired and I wish my time here would end.  For some reason I cant die.  Believe me I have tried and wished, but here I am still breathing air.  I can not take my own life cause that would be too simple, but why cant I have peace?  Do I not deserve serenity.   I am exasperated with jumping through hoops.  Maybe I will just move up into the pacific northwest in the hills and become a recluse.

I have had everything I could ever have wanted in life already.  Then I lost it.  I don’t want anything else.  Why can’t you see how wrong this life is that you created for us.  I know your not happy. Stop lying to yourself and be what you always told me you were. My faith in humanity was small when I met you and now after it has diminished even more.  Fuck everyone.  I’m over  all of you and your shit.  Stop laughing at me cause its not funny.  It never has been.  While you laugh I cry.  Thats how its been my whole life.

What the fuck more do you want from me?  What more do I have to prove? How much more suffering should I have to endure?

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This weeks UCB brings Kooky Kyle back into the victory circle.  Back in September when my life was in order I wrote a UCB entitled the Ten Year Plan where I pretty much wrote both a very real and then a dream plan to be accomplished by the time I was forty.  You can click the link above if you missed it or just plain want to refresh your memory.

Since then things have changed quite a bit and I have found my life in utter shambles.  Adrienne finally moved out this past Saturday.  I would be lying if all of me had not wanted to drop to my knees and pleaded with her to stay.  Of course that was out of the question for both my own personal respect and the sake of her and my mental health.  I don’t really know whether our split is a break or a break up.  All I know is that it was necessary.

I’m pretty torn up over the whole thing and miss her to death.  Looking back now I realize there was just too much drama between us to fix at the moment.  Maybe in time if it was meant to be the two of us will be drawn back in to one another.  That is a long shot and one I need to put out of my head for the moment.

In the movie “Food Inc” there is this lady who has a segment in the film in which she speaks about the loss of her six year old son to ecoli bacteria. She said she had to establish a “new normal” since with out her son alive her life could never be the same again.  My despair of losing a lover absolutely does not even come close to the loss of a child, but that idea of establishing a new normal is exactly what I have to do.

Right now the immediate goal is to force myself to get out of bed every morning and stay out of it till night.  This may seem like an easy task, but when you feel crushed like I do it is very hard.  Alfie gets me up to feed him around 7am every morning but after that it’s back under the covers for me.  I try to pry myself out of bed by 9am and go for surf.  Eat a little breakfast (that’s right I am finally eating again at least) and keep myself occupied for the rest of the day.

Aflie mopes around the apartment all day long making this horrid meow that sounds like a mix between a moan and a screech and when he is not doing that he lays flat on my dresser hanging his head off the edge all pathetic looking.  I guess he is taking it harder then me.   In all actuality I was prepared a bit for what was coming, but poor Alfie knew nothing of it.  One minute Ade’s was here and the next gone for no rhyme nor reason as far as he was concerned.  He barely made it through the loss of Sindia.  Hopefully he will get over Adrienne as he sits on my lap as I write this with the most pathetic look on his face.

Attempting to establish this new normal is a bit hard at the moment considering I am also teetering on the brink of financial ruin.  Adrienne’s departure from my apartment and life came at short notice and a tough renting season up here on the Mesa.  With both City College and UCSB out for the summer there are an abundance of rooms for rent out there and not too many potential renters.  As of June 1st with a few bites but no concrete commitments it looks like I am going to be out a huge chunk of change.

Upon further inspection of the state of my bank account I determined that I spent way too much money in the attempt to woo Ades back.  As it turns out I burned through all my auxiliary funds leaving me with just enough to cover the whole rent on my apartment if (which at this point seems to be the harsh reality) I cannot find a roommate by the first.  If you live in Santa Barbara and happen to know someone looking for a place I have a really nice room in a great apartment available immediately, check it out here: http://santabarbara.craigslist.org/roo/2409336577.html


Currently I am unemployed till September with just a small amount of income being rendered from unemployment.  At the moment I don’t even have enough money to eat.  There is nothing worse then when your cupboards are bare.  Things are beginning to look a bit on the grim side for me at the moment.  At this point I am applying for any position I can find to get my hands on some cash and tomorrow will attempt to sell the majority of my quiver on craigslist.com for a fraction of what its worth.

Just think eight weeks ago I was on top of the world feeling strong with a firm future.  Now I may be homeless in 60 days watching my car get repossessed. Don’t worry this is all worst case scenario stuff.  I am sure some good fortune will come my way.  On the other hand my immediate survival problems trump my emotional turmoil.

If I get all this handled in the next few days then I can go back to establishing my new normal.  As far as a one year plan goes its up in the air right now.  I am going to continue with culinary school and keep working at Westmont.  I want to get back into music.  Ever since all this bull shit started I have been shredding on the saxophones again.

Over the summer I have a few little projects I want to get done.  One in particular is to finish the coffee table (see coffee table link at the top of the blog for more about that).  I want to grow my vegetable garden and work on me as a person.  At the moment I have been pursuing my spiritual side at this church call the Mansion here in Santa Barbara devoted to lost souls finding their way back to God.

So far everyone there has been really wonderful to me and are like a second family.  They all go out of their way to invite me things, make me feel like I belong and help me strive to be the great person I want to be.  Pursuance of my new faith is a serious goal over the upcoming year.  Mainly I need to regroup, rebuild myself and find out who I am again.  When you’re with someone as long as I was with Adrienne that person becomes a part of you and you a part of her.  When that person is taken from your life it is like losing an appendage.  Now I have to be strong and stand on my own two feet again.

This may be my new home very shortly. Alfie is not there because I most likely had to eat him to survive.

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