|There are 46 days until Big Sur IV (subtitle to named later). I can hardly believe that the countdown is down to so few days. Itís just barely over one and a half months. Well, if I do the math this past Friday was seven weeks until the trip. So, yeah, just a little over one and a half months until the trip four. I worked today, and I was looking at places to eat for my planned San Francisco trip in October. My co-worker was saying, ďItís in October, what are you looking so far ahead.Ē But I wasnít looking for anything but places to eat. While in the city where i go can be spur of the moment, but not where I eat. I hate going somewhere and relying on dumb luck to find a place to eat. With technology I donít have to rely on that anymore. A major part of my working day today was devoted to finding some good burger joints in the city. I also looked up some taco places, and sub shops. Found some highly recommended ones close to where Iíll be going and saying. One place looks great for dinner, especially since itís only a couple of blocks from where Iím staying. Yes, but first Big Sur IV. The details are still being worked out, but weíre definitely doing the four day thing. Travel up on Friday, sights on Saturday and Sunday, and travel back on Monday. Good times.
The coming week is going to be shortened because of tomorrowís holiday. Hmm, a thought just came to me. TheGirl is probably having that talk she mentioned to me. She said that TheHusband asked to talk to her about their ďfutureĒ together. To me she says that while she likes spending this time with him there is no way that she is going back with him. I place the odds at 50/50 of her going back to him. She did it two years ago when she professed her love for me and then a week later dumped me. So yes, sheís capable of telling me that there is no way in hell that she will go back with him and then turn around and decide that yes she will. Iím not concerned either way. All I know is what she tells me, which I have to take at face value. I mention this because itís 11pm right now and she hasnít texted me about possibly hanging out tomorrow. I knew that the chances of us doing something on Memorial day were slim. Itís a good thing Iím not in a relationship, or any position, to have to rely on her word.
Friday at work AE was working the reference desk. I was on my way to shelf read a section of the books I was assigned when I took a detour and talked to her for about 20 minutes. I REALLY like her, and it seems like itís mutual. How mutual is another thing. I donít know if she just likes me as a friend, or something more. The evidence would show that itís just as a friend. However, I see how she looks at me sometimes and itís very similar to how TheGirl used to look at me. In short, thereís a look that says ďIím interested,Ē or ďI like you,Ē and I think AE is giving me that look. Yet, whenever I drop a hint of POSSIBLY hanging out after work she shoots a torpedo into that theory. Same thing happened on Friday. I so wished that she would pick up on my talking about going out to eat after work and inviting herself along. I canít actively ask her, though I think I should. Course, when she just told me to have a good time I didnít go out to eat, I just went home. I think she and I would be a good team.
Last night I watched part of a documentary on the writer Bukowski. My buddy has been sending me quotes, and that inspired me to check out more of his quotes. Damn good quotes. In the documentary it shows he was a drunk. And like most drunks, they arenít very interesting when theyíre tanked. Which apparently Bukowski was ALL THE TIME. At least for the purposes of the documentary. Itís possible they only wanted that kind of footage to make their story be one thing. Itís certainly not impossible to write awesome prose when drunk. However, while drinking is a perfect lubricant for writing it doesnít always lend itself to writing something coherent. At least in my experience. Bukowski might just be that good. As mentioned before, he wasnít as interesting in the documentary as the quotes I read. One thing I did like about him was his directness. I think that most of us arenít direct. In watching another documentary about an entirely different subject, I learned about this idea of facade. Society puts up these facades in order to make us feel like the world is fair and just. But it isnít. Everyone cheats. Everyone finds a way around the rules. I would like to think that Iím an honest person, but Iím not entirely honest. Then again, my lies are told for a purpose that isnít just getting away with something. That is too trivial. I donít care about such things. If I did something I own up to it. My lies are few, but they serve the purpose of finding out information. Iím here to tell you, Iím not such a great person. I lie, but donít cheat. That is one thing I donít do, is cheat. I might facilitate cheating, like for example TheGirl cheating on her husband. Yet I was true blue to her.
OK, can you tell that I had a drink and that itís taken effect in the time I started the last paragraph and now? Iím having a midnight snack because Iím STARVING. My aunt doesnít make me enough food for the week. She will make beans and call that a meal. I think sheís frustrated with me in that sense, because I donít give her any culinary direction. She wants to cook for me, but I never know what I want. Also, I donít want to burden her with feeding me. Iím a big boy now and I can feed myself. I can buy my own food and cook it, if I had the time. Correction, if I made the time. Today I went to the Fresh and Easy right by my house to buy some mayo that she says ran out at home. I picked up some other things for me to eat throughout the week. Some chicken enchiladas. As well as tatter tots, and salsa, and something else, I canít remember since the booze has hit me. Oh, some sausage thingie that Iím eating right now since the hunger pains struck me a few minutes ago.
My iPad is showing a slide show of my first trip to Big Sur. That enchanting, life changing, first trip to Big Sur. What follows is one particular photo I took during that first trip. Itís of a railing at the Julia Pfiefer falls.
It says. ďDonít count every hour make every hour count.Ē Profound, but also not. Ever since that moment Iíve tried to make the hours count. I canít always succeed since I have so many hours devoted to working. But on my days off I try to devote some hours to something meaningful. Wait, is this journal something meaningful? Most likely not.
My iPad continues to cycle through the photos from that first trip. Some of the photographs I took on that trip are the best Iíve ever taken. They move me to the point of tears. Thereís one that I took on my last trip that I only recently found on my iPhone that might be the best I took last time I was in Big Sur. Here it is.
Iíve been trying to find a job up in Big Sur for the last few months. There are some nice leads, but nothing solid. I need to make enough money up there to pay for my mortgage here and also rent and food and my car up in Big Sur. That is quite a bit of money. Let me ask you, am I rambling now? Blame the booze. I should say good night now.