XI. Awesomber< Previous Chapter | Next Chapter >


How does one find adventure? You certainly can’t look for it. Or can you? Or does it merely happen that, by walking out of your front door, you do put yourself out there for amazing things to happen? And, in that case, where do you find the courage, or the goals, that help you to step out in the first place? Perhaps we all must go out alone and aimless, but intentionally errant.

I have spoken of paths and such, but am I the only one who has that urge?

Playing loud music doesn’t fill the space.
Reading doesn’t fill the space.
Writing can no longer fill the space.
Playing someone else can no longer fill the space.


Where do you go? What do you do? With whom do you speak?

I look around and most everyone seems fine to settle. They do well to settle. Can the circumstances of the world break your heart?

Maybe it is discouragement that does it.

“Sail on Silver girl,
Sail on by.
Your time has come to shine.
All your dreams are on their way.
See how they shine.”

Maybe it is discouragement that does it.

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As I post this entry it is not yet September. Regardless, I am archiving August and dating this entry “September 1.” Am I that anxious to get on with things? Yes. I realize that this is not very “in the moment” of me. You’ll have to pardon me if I don’t give a good goddamn.

Don't get me wrong: This summer has been interesting, (as you may have read,) but I'm just not sad to see the season go. Fall is my favorite part of the year and I feel very good about the upcoming months.

…And, who says we have to follow the traditional, boring calendar anyway? I hereby proclaim that “September” will henceforth be known as “Awesomber,” will have 42 days, three full-moons and one leap-year. Not to mention a new, rad holiday requiring all citizens to dress like Ninjas or else. More details to come.

Related Photo: Ninja J.Sto.

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Prepare the Shivering of Timbers... 

I had mentioned that Awesomber is full of hella rad holidays and that more information was to follow. Let the record show that I keep my promises. And that I am awesome. (And by awesome I mean I can, hands down, kick your ass at ANYTHING.)

Moving on, Awesomber 19th is TALK LIKE A PIRATE DAY. This is definitely an official, international holiday. If you don’t believe me then shut it! You can check the official site while I laugh in your face. Feel free to call the UN if you still don't believe me. Some guy at the UN will definitely back me up and then you will feel like an international idiot. (I was going to list that UN guy's name, but I can’t think of anyone who works at the UN. C.Sto, help!)

I recommend that you brush up on your Pirate lingo in order to learn how to pick up Pirates. Otherwise, you will totally be lonely on the 19th when the whole world goes Pirate and you stay chump.

PS: Even Ninjas talk like Pirates on Talk Like a Pirate Day. This is so that they may preserve their secret identities. Now I will write more junk so that "identities" is not the only word on this line.

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That Sinking Feeling 

The sun goes down in California at about 6:30 PM. Yesterday, at 4:52 PM, I threw on my board shorts, rash guard and a long sleeve tee and proclaimed: “The water may be Baltic, but what the hell. I’m going to the damn beach.” You see, this summer I spent loads of time open water swimming, so over the past month I have been in seawater withdrawal. I arrived at the beach at 5:35, paid my three bucks to the parking machine and parked my car. A steady trickle of bikers, walkers and bladers passed in front of me on the bike path.

I crossed over to the sand.

There were a few stragglers on the beach, but for the most part it was empty. I looked back at my car: It was the only vehicle in the lonely lot. We had never been to the beach in California at this time of day and I almost felt bad leaving it behind. Then I remembered that it was a car, not a person, and totally kept walking.

Large bands of hand-size, smooth rocks had washed ashore, so I spent a good deal of time testing my throwing arm. And, hey, the water actually wasn’t that cold. I waded out a ways.

After crashing a few waist-high waves, I looked down at my t-shirt to see two wet, red spots. “How did I get red liquid on my shirt? Sea spray is definitely not red…” Looking closer, I realized that my entire white shirt was bathed in pink. I looked up: The sun had begun to set, but it did not go quietly: The sky was ablaze in a red explosion. Behind me, people were still going back and forth on the bike path. The beach was still empty. That’s when I discovered something hugely monumental: You can belt out show tunes on the beach at sunset and, because the ocean is loud and the beach empty, no one can hear you!

That’s right people; SHOW TUNES!

After numerous encores of Beauty and the Beast, I finished splashing around and forced myself back up to my car. I spread my Harry Potter towel out on the hood, leaned back on the windshield and put my attention to the west. The sun was going... going... gone.

The sunsets here are pretty good. Fire red and such, they sink down just above the water toward Malibu. It makes me wonder: Why don’t more people go down to the beach to welcome the night? I suppose then it wouldn’t be as good because it would be too crowded and people would hear you singing show tunes. Still, for the first time in my life I live near the coast and I do not plan to take it for granted. I made a vow to myself to go to the beach at least once a week. I can’t understand why others don’t do the same.

I guess they’re too busy.

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Sometimes I think it’s good to live in California. The rest of the time? I'm not so sure.

Related Photo: Sunset.

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