Nudge nudge

My life is full of these people who just can’t quite make the transition. They’re almost over the hump but keep kind of backsliding and having to walk back home the hill. Maybe that’s me a little. But it was years ago that I got to the top of the big hump. And started being happy. Being grateful. I’m going to put up a giant sign that says be grateful.

What happens next?

It was five or six years ago, Stacey, Mary, and Martin set a precedent that I believe lead to a national movement against sexual harassment and sexual assault. And I played my part by telling the truth and spreading the word. Then a bunch of good happened on my life and I was sitting around, wondering what’s next. Then amber wandered into my path and I did my part there. That was crazy. It was huge for me. Now I’m sitting with an insulated house wondering what on earth could be next. And I think I’m going to be a little more intentional about it. I want my church to grow. To attract and accept more people. Tk be cleaner and more organized. To have more events. And well planned events. I want the wawc to use their garden. And I want to have a job. And bike more. And do more races. And journal more. And eat less. Haha. And make my house nicer. A better expression of me. And I want to give my car to Nadia when she can drive. And build a paddle board. And build a sailboat. And employ people to build those things. And start a side business of custom fiberglass somethings and employ ed and amber.

Everything has changed

I guess it’s good. Yesterday I learned that Stacey might live in Sausalito. And it drove home some facts. She hasn’t talked to me. She moved away. I remember working at ebs and I had a great rythm down. And it was Ron, Glenn, Terri, me, Stacey, Ezra, Jessica, Elizabeth, all in our little area. And the company was doing really well. We were a pretty good team. Then Paul and Donna left. Then they got rid of me. And the poor place just doesn’t seem like it’s gotten any traction ever since. And everyone else has ripped off their technologies and ideas. And then Stacey left. Probably because of me. Now Ron and Martin are gone I found out. It’s just so sad. We all had an amazing thing going there. We really did. Then I was at Areias. I love Scott’s valley. I would run everyday on the trails. And I took people Sailing. And that was my thing. And I went to church and I was happy and at peace. Now everything has changed. I can’t stand Santa Cruz anymore. And I’m jealous that Stacey probably found herself a nice quiet peaceful nook somewhere. That’s what I’m striving for but my area is just not like that. Not unless I get loud and intimidate everyone. Maybe I should do that. That’s what I have been working towards for so long. A cute cozy little cabin by the harbor. Now it’s like overrun by wackos. I have always just wanted to settle. Church isn’t peaceful for me anymore. Everyone is accusatory and wound up now. What is going on?!


I want some sort of mood stabilizer. An herbal one. The problem with medication, is that half the reason I would want a medication, is because I’m surrounded by people who are medicating, and it drives me crazy. I can see right through it. Stand strong! Be different! Be sober! It dumbs people down. You don’t have to be dumbed down. There is a real path through it. It requires patience. Intelligence. Planning. And hope.

This was driving me crazy until last night I snapped and had a few beers. It made me happy and warm. But today it left me down. And it’s horrible. But I think I was looking for something to calm my mind. Otherwise I have been totally sober and straight. Last night I was sober minded. Just having fun. But it isn’t fair. I am surrounded my people who use. Whatever it is. And I choose not to. Maybe I need to get out of Santa Cruz. It’s the Mecca of drugs.


Is it real? And have I wandered into it? A month before I broke my toe, I couldn’t sleep because that exact toe felt like it was being stabbed. I thought it was weird. The next day at work someone was talking about voodoo inside the robot software code we wrote, and I thought I wonder if that was voodoo?

But who do the voodoo? And why do the voodoo? Don’t do the voodoo!

Then today I gave Amber a ride to Garfield church. I asked her and her friend if they wanted to go sailing, to do something healthy, and she asked if a ride to church. When I dropped her off, she apologized for last night. And last night was rough for me. I looked at her puzzled. I live on the other side of town. I said, I haven’t talked to you in a number of days. She just looked at me. Then she said I’m sorry for what I said. I think she thinks I am there or can hear her. Sometimes she asks if I left something for her. Like the nails at the bottom of the stairs. No, sorry, I did not leave the nails there for you. Hopefully you did something creative with them! It was like the lady walking down the road shooting off a fire extinguisher. It was bizarre. But I had to respect the creativity and resourcefulness. But every now and then I get really freaked out by her. Did she make my night miserable with voodoo? Or was she just an easy target for me to blame my problems on? I mean, she was homeless. It’s definitely probably her fault. But the weird thing is, inside of all of it, she knows she’s homeless, and she knows she’s a target because of it. This baffles me. It suggests that either 1. she has a victim mentality and is using homelessness to fortify her victimship, or 2. She is that desperately mentally out of control and yet still has some high level social faculty. And I think it’s number 2. And that excites me. Because it means she could use that faculty to reprocess the rest of her dissociations and integrate herself. And that’s exciting.

All I had to do is figure out the right words. Ask the right questions and tell her the right things. It would trigger that strong part of her to put her own pieces back together and learn to test what is real and not and start trusting and depending on real, good, things.

The problem with all of this, part of it was a metaphor for me that I was projecting on to her. The situation with Stacey. What was reality? I couldn’t know until August. Until then there was nothing to test.

I was entranced by her psyche. I read how things work constantly as a kid and took everything apart. It made me different from a lot of engineers because I knew the common way of doing most things. And the psyche was a big complex machine to me. And you only get a good glimpse of it, as far as I have seen, from childish states. I think that is why I like kids so much. You can better see things going on in their head. Adults are conditioned to being robots. But not kids. And amber was a very special case. An adult with adult faculty and an extremely childish piece as well. She had this massive range of dynamics going on in her psyche. And she had no problem talking about all of it.

The weirdest situations

I found myself in these situations where all I could do is pray. And pray. And pray. I had nothing else. Like today. I didn’t go to church. I don’t feel good. I don’t have a housemate. I don’t talk to anyone much. All I can do is sit here and pray. I feel desperate. But I am 34 year old man, who has chosen to not do a lot of things. So I can pray! And see. And know.

Big things are happening at church. And I want to be there in the right frame of mind. Not today.

I still wonder what will happen on August. I now think she probably won’t call. Which will be ok. It will be a relief. Ok, I was wrong. She probably spent five years becoming an awesome biker and I spent five years…. in therapy. I don’t know if it’s biblical but someone once said, all is well that ends well. And I suppose that is all that matters. And if she did call, that would be good too. But now all I can do is pray. I can’t date anyone until then. I can just give people rides to church who need rides. I give females rides to church when they need. And I wonder what message it sends in this hyper social environment we live in. In many places if the world, no one would even care, they are so focused on just surviving. But here, we have the luxury of criticizing each other for the simplest things.

So I pray. And I realize I am sort of obsessed with being in a relationship. I think it is because I don’t have a housemate or someone who I regularly do things with. I guess I should work on that!

Pushing limits

I decided to just go for it. I had lived in and adapted to 1949 technology for so long. No outdoor outlets. One outdoor light. One spigot. But now… there was going to be lighting in the attic, lighting in the crawl space, an outlet in the back yard, a outlet in the carport, and an outlet out front for tree lights and car vacuuming. And a spigot out back. A spigot in the garden. There would be a porch light. And low level front yard mood lighting. And tre lighting. On three separate switches. All controlled from my secret vantage point inside the house. And a high wattage security light in the carport that could go on at the flick of a switch. It’s amazing. And I figured out a secret blend of concrete that I’m going to make my driveway with. It’s secret. Only two other people know about the blend. And we’re not allowed to share about it. And there’s kitchen outlets and a fridge outlet. And all the circuits make sense now. Oh I’ve spent like 30,000 working on this for six months. And it was totally worth it. Even if I just gave the house away. Someone would be so stoked. It’s like a ski house in Tahoe, but it’s at the beach. I could never sell it. Only if I could retain my tax basis. But when I retire, my property tax bill here willl be $250 per month. I could live off social security alone and keep biking Emma McCrary every day. There’ll probably be new trails by then too. And make a little dinghy to sail in. And a rowboat for the lake. Retirement is gong to be epic. Like seriously. And I want to be a manager at Burger King. Because I’ll be wise and patient. For the young guys. It’ll be good. And I’ll keep racing the old cabin classic until I win it. All of it. And then the best parts signing the house over to my kids someday…. that is literally what I thought about when I bought it. And I think that’s a good thing… thinking 80 years ahead. It takes away the stress.

It was almost funny. 1949 was my dad birth year. This house had been through World War II, Vietnam, an earthquake. And it was still standing, old wood and roof intact. Minus the driveway.

It isn’t me!

It seemed like anyone who really turned to God, especially pastors, everyone would turn to them. And they would be standing there, taking the heat for everything, and like Paul, saying, look, turn to Him! Not me!!! Why on earth is it my responsibility? It isn’t! It’s God’s! It’s between you and God! The father! Yahweh! Jehovah! Not me!

Thankfully, blood clots

I have a sadist inside. Every time I do something I get a good cut. I have to keep a large supply of large bandaids at my house. It’s a good thing blood clots. If it didn’t, I would have a lot of trouble. I suspected over the years that a number of people had run background checks on me. So today I went ahead and did it to them and a few other people. They all came out clean. That’s what I expected. Mine has two duis and of course, a driving without a license after being convicted for a dui. That was college. Go to class. Go to construction. Ride dirt bikes. Come home with a 30 pack. That’s all over. But that is in my blood. What’s in your blood?

I think my heart is tied to yours

But that is not fair. But I guess I can’t expect fairness. Yesterday I flushed my tankless water heater, installed my wall heater, re ran the rough electrical in my front room, planned the insulation, went to church, and a number of other things. It was good. I got a lot done. I rode this morning. It was great. I feel like I am surrounded by egotistical people. Maybe that means I a, egotistical. It’s the cars. I guess when your driving alone enjoying your nice car you think you own the world. Cars are specifically designed to give you that feeling. It’s how they sell. And they all roll around giving off that exact mannerism. Oh it drives me crazy. What? What do you want from me car? Can I just sit in peace and enjoy my house? Then I rode with the cars. I like to beat them. Or race them. They love it. They race back.

Today I bought the insulation, planned more electrical work, got the stove in the right spot. There’s only so many square feet to work with. Organized. Cleaned. Groomed my nails. My nails are doing ok. A little roughed up. My feet are sore. I’m ready for some bigger rides. My legs are growing. I’m the perfect size. Small, light, and mean. I can sprint hard. When my legs are in shape. Lycra is he way to go. I am running out of money. I have some equity in my house so I could always sell. But I think I’ll make it back into the workforce and recover. It should be fine. And I’ll have an epic little old cabin. It’s a classic.