World of Ong

Below the Ocean and Above the Clouds

2008-04-15T23:14:00.000-07:00

Once again, I must play a game of catch up. So much has been happening lately, I haven't had time to let all you folks know what has been going on. So, I will try my best to give you the run-down.

Diver Down!

Yes, the past few months I have been quite the avid diver - diving every weekend and as much as possible. I have enrolled in the Technical Deep Diving Course coupled along with my Rescue Diver course - I think. There is too much reading and studying I must complete before December. December you ask? What's so important about December? Well, I finally put money down for the trip to Micronesia Truk Lagoon. Yes, I am halfway there. Saw-weet!

I also purchased a new underwater camera which you can see the photos and videos on the side. I have been exploring the Washington Coast and inlets where I saw my very first Pacific Northern Giant Octopus, Wolf eel and tons of sea life. Very cool! Also, playing with the new gear I will be using in December. I just hit a whole new level with diving.My goal now is to hit 100 dives within the year. I am a few months shy of my goal, but I will persist. I now have a reliable dive buddy, I have the gear, and I get free air. It's all good.

The Bi-Annual Whistler Trip - Telus Festival 2008

And then there was our 5th trip to the Telus Festival. Oh what another adventure my friends. The skiing was epic! The snow - epic! The drinking - epic!

70+ F degrees and the mountain had tons of snow. My face is still crispy, flaky and red from the rays. I am feeling great! As usual all I can give you are little teasers of the escapades my comrade and I went through:

The three day excursion consisted of 3 bomb explosions in the night that rattled the whole building, a shattered glass lobby door, coconuts, a very large knife, 2 foot chocolate bar, booze, Ron Jeremy, beer, mass blood loss, vomit, a disappearing-re-appearing fire extinguisher that mysteriously shows up, waking up with bloody hands, a door battle with teeny-bopper pot heads, more booze, naked men sliding on ice, a ride on a Bic razor, smoky bacon cheese, methane gas, tons of food, a hotel room with an unintentional reenactment of a scene from Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, sexy women, Fondue, swag, yellow snow, broken legs, and a maid named Steve. Fag.

All I can say it was once again another memorable trip.

More to come...

There will be many more adventures this year, it will be the death of credit cards, but there will be more adventures - no matter how inane they may be.

Until then, keep your head up, smile, enjoy life and don't let the recession bring you down. As Mr. Rourke said, "Smiles everyone, smiles. Welcome to Fantasy Island!" But this ain't fantasy.

Phoenix Punks, Buddha and Apple Pie

2008-02-11T23:03:00.000-08:00

…And not necessarily in that order.

Well I have done it! During the Winter Holiday season I participated for the first time, EVER, in my family's traditional apple pie contest. I WON! Notice the fancy trophy.

Let me give you a little background on this whole ordeal. I heard of the news in August that I would be taking the place of my Dad. So, never baked in my life I set on a new journey. 4 Weeks of research, cross-referencing recipes, talking with local bakers and the Pike Place Market produce stand guys; I finally came with a personal recipe.

In order to compete with my fellow family members I had a lot of catching up to do since this competition has been going on since 1989. 19 Years. Wow. So I set a goal of a pie a month until the competition. September, October, November, December. 4 Pies. When questioned about my newly found pie making skills, I just replied, "I must become one with the pie." I must add that during this, I shown off some pictures to the competitors. And that's when the gauntlets were thrown down. Let the competition begin.

All pies I took to my work place and had our Quality Assurance team test them. 14 people tested, wrote up bugs and I corrected. It was a feat. Finally mastering my technique or little of what was there.

December competition finally comes around and let the smack talking begin. Oh it was all there - name slinging, evil stares and even sabotage. But I prevailed - winning over the hearts of the 6 judge panel and surviving a really drunken night. I now have bragging rights and the beloved trophy for one whole year. Hooray for me!

That's only part of the story. Part, you say? Yes, this was the Holiday season and I have more to share - Bleeding fingers, Rampant Punk Rockers, Rock Stars, a hazy "wa-wa" night. Oh yes my friends, much more.

So let's try to fill the gaps. Prior to my trip back to Arizona, I got to squeeze in a day of diving with a new Dive buddy. Went out to Edmonds Underwater Park and swam in the gnarliest of swells. The currents were outrageous, the swim tiring, but the adventure high. Here we saw a 4 foot long Lingcod (picture included - that bucket is actually one of those huge 5 gallon drums), someone threw a perfectly good Bayliner Boat away, and there were some scary moments. I was swimming next to this sunken Tugboat, where the along the hull was a huge rusted rip going down the length of the ship. Swimming happily along, all of a sudden the top half of the ship comes falling 4 feet down. I freak and scatter to the side trying to miss half of this ship, but in reality it was just the underwater current lifting and dropping the top half between 4 and 10 feet. I sucked in a good 1000 lbs of air at that moment. It was a good trip all in all. Cold and good. But what is always best is the beer afterwards.

Now let's fast forward to the Holidays. I came down with a really nasty cold during the whole trip. The plane was uneventful, just me trying to drink my cold away. Almost worked. But then again, I kept a constant drunk the whole time I was down there. (Middle of February and I still feel it.)

I stayed with my cousin this round, since my parent place was taken by my brothers family. But I was lucky. They had the Rock Star Wii going on. In order to beat my nephews, I just HAD to practice. I beat the game on easy and my fingers were bruised, bleeding and I had the grin the size of Texas. I was ready to Kick Ass! And I did. Now you know its going to be a crazy Holidays when you don't get to bed until 4 am and then your cousin's husband wakes you up at 7am holding a cold beer to your head. That was pretty much my holiday. Deep fried turkey, tons of other foods and apple pie.

During my stay in Phoenix I received an email from a long lost friend of mine claiming there is a Punk Rock Reunion of my youth. It has been 20 years since I've seen these people. My have we all changed. It was a blast re-connecting with everyone again. Sad thing though is this is only a fraction of our group. The rest is either dead or spread out across the country. Maybe next time.

Then my buddy and I head out on the town. He took the liberty of driving and presenting me with items of the past. Re-enacting a particular night that happened back in the 80's, but this time around, I was the victim instead of him. It was payback. I had a helluva time that night. (Thanks man if you are reading this!)

I also had some family time as well of course. My mother and childhood friend went out for some German beers, then after while my mom and his wife went shopping, we would just crack jokes and snicker 10 feet behind them. I felt all giddy like a school girl.

Then of course my Uncle takes me out. We end up at the local Biker/Country Dive bar. The door you see to the right is the actual bar. He does this whenever I get 15 minutes of downtime from all the rest of the family. It was all good.

Finally I come back home to Seattle. A nice few weeks to detoxify and I squeeze in another dive. This time, with the same buddy as last, head to Alki Beach at Cove 2. We drop down to 107 feet in 45F degree water. We find Buddha tucked away in the ibeams. My buddy motions to head up since he is feeling Nitrogen Narcosis kick in and we swim back to shallower depths. It was actually really fun, since I finally had a chance to relax and just explore all the nooks and crannies.

Now it is February, and I am thoroughly relaxed. I just got my SCUBA gear back from its annual servicing and ready to go again. The last few days I have scrounging for statements for my taxes and now I am done. Hooray!

Oh almost forgot, 2 weeks ago I had another one of Jon's Crazy Ass Nights. Somehow, after work, I decided to go to a local bar - Free Drinks! And at some fuzzy point in time I end up at some Private club. It all gets fuzzy doesn't it? Anyhoo, luckily I catch the midnight bus home and cower the rest of the week. I have to be vague on this since it was kind of a splotchy night.

I will leave you with that. As usual, take life by the pigtails and donkey punch the hell out of if! Or maybe a "One Eyed Pirate", you decide. Enjoy!

3 Countries, 2 Weeks - and a Whole Lotta Catch-up!

2007-11-26T18:42:00.000-08:00

Eeesh! Wow it has been a while. Well my friends, I have a lot to for you! It's been 4 months since my last entry…. And where do I begin?

August was fairly tame; I can barely remember it now so let's move onto October. Ah yes, as was last year, this is the start of the 3 months of hell. Holidays, parties, yada, yada, etc., etc… you get the picture.

In the beginning, I took on a new challenge. I decided to participate in one of those beer drinking clubs. So, in 3 weeks I drank 40 beers; thus, becoming a proud member of the Beer Hunters Club. So, if you are ever in the neighborhood of the Duchess Bar and Grill, somewhere on a bronze plaque on the wall is my name - for eternity. HA! Also, I got a new white baseball cap that says I am in. I guess its sort of like the golden jacket of golf - but this is to beer.

Halloween was a blast. Sort of a last minute party and costume deal. The kind of partying where I didn't get home until the next day only wearing pantyhose on my head, lipstick still smudged across my face, in man knickers and a lacy shirt. Along with the realization that all of my belongings and personal effects where scattered around King County Washington. Car in Capitol Hill, wallet in Greenwood, car keys in Ballard, me in University District, and my integrity - well, not on this planet. After a 4 hour scavenger hunt - I finally become whole.

Early November, I participated in a new startup scuba group. This was a fun time, 5 of us headed out to Alki Beach in Seattle in search for an overturned tugboat. My navigation skills were a little rusty and we missed it by 5 degrees. But I got to see a lot of dead things, such as a dead harbor seal and a bunch of dead octopus. Plus, I made a bunch of new diving buddies which rocks! (pics are on the upper right)

A week later, I FINALLY got to head out for a vacation. 3 countries in 2 weeks. Not too shabby.

First stop, Puerto Vallarta. Waking up at 4am getting a ride to the airport and leaving at 6am. 4 Vodka 7's already in my gullet. Flight was delayed by a dog. Yes a dog. Now there were 2 things I can blame on a dog. Met some really wonderful people on the plane - in fact so wonderful, we drank the plane dry of all the vodka. It was a great flight. You can see how fun it was in the picture.

Puerto Vallarta was a blast except for all the usual family turmoil. Did a little zip lining in the Jungle Canopy, a little scuba diving, a little beach time and relaxing on the beach. Even was there during the Mexican Independence day. Lots of margaritas, lotion and sweat. Personally, I will never head back there - at least at the place I was staying. It was pretty much the 51st state of America. Obese, oiled up white tourists running around everywhere! Just could not get into it. Only Mexicans I saw where waiting on us - I can get that in Arizona, thank you. Although, there was Mariana the Canopy tour guide I fell in love with instantly. Oh, and Manuel! Our waiter… he kept the margaritas pouring. He waited on me for 6 days straight. With all the crazy tips I gave him, I could of bought himself a nice 72" plasma screen.

Met some really wonderful people while scuba diving. Although visibility below was only at 10 - 20 feet, it was fun nonetheless - with all the underwater thermal currents it was really interesting from going from hot ocean water to cold. Saw a sea turtle, lobster, Green Moray Eel, and a variation of puffer fish. The flow and ebb was crazy considering we were only at 25-40 feet deep.

End of Vallarta and I then proceed to the airport to buy 2 bottles of tequila, 2 cartons of cigarettes - sit down at an airport bar and drink a lot of margaritas, smoking cigarettes and watching Mexican T.V. with 30 Pesos to my name.

Finally arrive in Seattle, only to head to my bedroom, unpack my summer luggage and re-pack with the ski gear, to wake up at 6am and head to Whistler Canada for the opening ski season.

Whistler was another drunken haze as usual. Snow wasn't as epic as last year, but it was nice snow. It reminded me of Rocky Mountain skiing - sun was out, hard pack with a little slush on top. It brought back memories. Once again, I wont expand too much on this trip because - What happens in Whistler will stay there.

Now I sit in my library in Seattle, writing this to you in detox. Scuba gear is finally washed up, dives are logged, ski gear put away, clothes washed and drinking a nice beer. Only 3 more weeks till I head out again for the Christmas holidays to Phoenix. Also, I will see if I can get some more local dives in within the 3 weeks here, but first I have to change my scuba rig to fit my dry-suit and my tanks.

Until next time mi amigos, la vida viva y tiene diversion!

Soggy and Stinky is What I am

2007-07-17T13:59:00.000-07:00

Ha ha! I finally got my butt out of the house for some good clean sweaty fun. I decided to re-experience the Spider Meadow / Spider Gap hike. This time though, instead of stopping at the Meadow - I went all the way up. Almost even to Lyman Lake. To top this all off, I did it solo. Yes, solo. You heard me.

So, after a brief planning during the prior week, I grabbed some hearty goodness freeze-dried food, streamlined my pack and headed out. Leaving the house around 9am, a 2 hour road trip to the forest service road, another hour of craggy dirty roads I finally meet my 3,500 foot elevation Phelps Creek trailhead.

Noon, I check the logbook to see who has made it in so far - 22 people. Shit. I might not have a camping spot, so, I decide to speed hike. After 2 hours pass, 5 miles in and passing 4 large groups of people I make it to the Meadow. After searching for a spot in the Meadow, everything is taken and I head up in full gear to the Gap. Only to see 2 more groups ahead of me. Dammit.

Luckily they are stopped at the Phelps creek crossing. All of them are on the side of the creek, removing shoes to make the journey through the waist high water. I say screw it and jump right in. As I cross, I hear one of the folks, "Ah yes, the ol' boot method!", three miles up the side of the mountain and another 3000 foot climb, I start to fade. And just now I am trying to find the closest thing to a campsite. Luckily, no one is around and I grab it. Not to mention the soggy foot that I had from the little dip that I took back in the crossing.

I set up camp, replenish my water source, set my bear wires and cook some excellent gaseous beef stroganoff with a chocolate mousse for dessert. Then crash hard. Wake up a few hours later, to explore and then to battle the mosquitoes. Luckily, my ultra toxic and concentrated Jungle Juice deterred them mostly, but those little bastards ended up all on my shirt. I still have a line of bites across my forehead where the bandana stopped and the skin began.

During the night, I heard a few raindrops. Not too shabby. Wake up at 7am, and wander around in a circle for a little bit trying to dodge all the skeeters. I decide to blow off breakfast and try to beat the mad rush of cars at the trailhead. As I am breaking down camp, STORM CLOUD!!! I get beaten down with water. Quickly donning my rain gear, I gather my gear, jam my tent into its stuff sack (I think I packed along 5 pounds of mud as well), threw on my soggy socks from the day before knowing that I will have to cross that creek again. Throw my pack on my back and head back down the mountain.

Arriving at the creek, I replenish my water supply again and cross the creek, this time only plunging only one side of my body into the creek instead of the lower half of me. Not too bad.Cruising through the Meadow I decide now is the time to snap a few pictures and keep on trucking out. 3 hours later from camp, I finally arrive back to my car.

It was a great trip. One thing I found that I like is that when you get to the top of the mountain, and you pull out that first cigarette - Heaven. Knowing you have accomplished something and you can relax with that nice nicotine buzz. It's Marlboro Country.

Now, I am in the middle of the decontamination process. And yes, I did pack out a pint of mud. At least according to what I swept up on my balcony. Not to mention, my chocolate mousse dribbled out of my garbage bag and into the bottom of my pack. Ick. Thats going to be fun to clean.

My Top Ten Musical Muses

2007-07-06T17:55:00.000-07:00

"But this one goes to eleven..." I know, so I lied to tie you in. This is actually my Top Eleven Musical Muses. I just couldnt leave anyone out. So here they are, not in any particular order, but these 11 ladies I have been listening to a lot lately. So last night, I thought I would try something and actually share them with you.

Imogen Heap (Frou Frou) I give you Imogen Heap. A British electronica artist. Lately I have been hooked on her and have been listening quite a bit to her. I give you two videos, 1) when she went solo and 2)with her older band Frou Frou. This music usually is my soundtrack while I run the 6 miles every day. Keeps the blood pumping and yet her voice is so soothing.
Angie Hart (Frente!) Ah yes! The cute Aussie from the 90's band Frente! Listening to her just makes me feel really really happy. Especially when the headphones are on and walking down a small neighborhood. She usually just brings a smile to my face.
Liz Phair And then there was Liz. The original psychosematic sister from Chicago. I dont even know where to begin with this one. To start, there was a little history with her and I. All I can say is she is a great travel companion on the iPod. Good Traveling music and sing alongs.
Suzanne Vega The legendary New Yorker folk singer. Simply amazing voice. Watching her live, she has the studio perferct voice. Her music for some reason always reminds me of walking through Rome or Spain. Just the imagery in my head is enough to enjoy.
Carla Bruni Former Italian model turned singer. Her voice is just plain sultry. Everytime I hear here, is usually when I am drunk in the passenger seat on my way home from the bar. Its a very soothing voice. She was made popular from all the tech geeks sitting in their network pods. Oh yeah, they are all hot and heavy for her.
April March Cute little rockabilly french girl. I wish I could of found the tunes that actually inspired me to listen to her, but this video was all I could muster. Has that groovy late 60's and early 70's feel definately.
Nina Perrson (The Cardigans) Blond Swedish femme fatale. The cardigans have a great assortment of music ranging from loungey, sit back and drink a martini - or "Hell yeah, let's get this party started!" kind of mood. Either way, good tunes to drink to either for martinis or just vodka and sodas.
Sarah Harmer Canadian singer that recently turned to blue-grass. Her earlier non blue grass roots was just city livin' kind of music. Certain tones and sounds that make your innards move. They moved mine.
Kathleen Edwards Another Canadian indie-country singer. I first heard her on an airpline radio station on my way back from Atlanta, Georgia. I dont, maybe its her rough voice or just the lyrics. But I like!
Beth Orton British folk singer. Great tunes to sleep to. And maybe go hiking to. There are some electronica tunes she does that just plain gets me in a very relaxed mood before I pass out in my drunken state.
Astrud Gilberto Legendary. Thats all I can say. Except, legendary with me, with a martini in hand. Grooving around the condo silently getting sloshed. Its all good.

I know I had short descriptions on all these. All day at work I had words and descriptions flowing out of me. But as soon as I got to the computer, I lost them all. Hopefully all this music will speak for itself.

Tri Monthly Update

2007-06-17T21:13:00.000-07:00

I have been a horrible blogger lately. I admit it, yes, I suck. But, I do have some reasons, although you probably won’t believe them, and just say I am making them up. Sue me. I have tons to catch up to and I physically chained myself to this computer chair so I can write it all out.

Last time we spoke it was April, well a lot has happened since then. TELUS Ski Festival in Whistler, I had a birthday, I became a gimp, I was drunk a lot, I lost weight, Summer Solstice party, drank some more, a few art walks, started to run again, gardened, and got sun burnt.

Let’s start off in Whistler. It was the usual trip, end of the skiing season. The snow was excellent; our accommodations were the BEST this round. We had a very large loft this time, very roomy. There were some white outs at times to make the runs featureless but nonetheless it was a good time. We drank, ate, and tried to commit the 7 deadly sins of course. Steven Marley (Bob Marley’s son) played a huge show which was fantastic. Everything was going well, until some folks cut me off and I bailed on the mountain. The next morning my shoulder began to hurt. 1 month later, I am at the doctor getting an MRI scan only to find out I now have a torn ligament in my shoulder. What really sucks about this, is I asked for some pain meds, but all I got was, “It will heal during the summer” then got booted out the door. Not even a prescription for a massage therapy. LAME! I meet the doctor again next month; I will push for the massage therapy again. So am now incapacitated with limited arm movement. Meaning, the house remodel is on hiatus.

Birthday rolls around and I celebrate in the usual tradition – dressed up in a vintage tux, sitting alone in a swank dive bar, a great oxymoron if I say so, drinking to my hearts content for the whole birthday week. I finally bought myself a hip flask, and when the drinks were weak-well, I would cure that problem. One mishap throughout the whole week – on the actual birthday, late at night, after the bars kicked me out, I drove down to the edge of the pier. I sat in a fisherman’s chair and drank steadily from my flask. Relaxing, watching the moon sparkle on the ocean waves, in a vintage tux no less, I pull out my flask, feeling the debit card on the verge of my pinky. A heavy wind kicks up, grabs the debit card and off it goes. As I see this platinum blur fly off the pier and land in the water. I watch my debit card slowly sinks to the bottom of the sea. Yes, I lost my debit card to the sea, and I have a fear that Poseidon/Neptune is down there charging up my card on useless Little Mermaid videos for his own sick pleasures. Hopefully I cancelled the card in time. It must have been a sign to stop the madness. Eventually, things became normal again.

Finally, the first days of summer roll around. Nice hot weather and boy am I prepared for it. Come on Ra or Odin, bring on your worst, I am waiting for the heat. I recently bought an air-conditioning unit for the condo. In addition to my arsenal of anti heat, I also have the pool and margaritas, although I was mocked my first day at poolside. The gods were not happy. In my rush to put on my SPF 2 sunscreen, I missed a few spots. I now have tiger stripes across my chest. All in all though, it was a tolerable hot day that day, and I am waiting for more to come.

As a birthday resolution, I decided to take up jogging again. The reason being fit was to get into shape, lose some weight, and to look damn sexy in my wet suit when I am in the Archipelagos. So I have been on my disciplined regime to lose weight and get fit. It seems that all I do now is wake up, work, run, eat, sleep… for the last six weeks. I am up to 5 miles a day now and glad to say I dropped 40 pounds. I have 30 more to go. The rate I am going, I am losing roughly 10 pounds a week – and that is healthy loss at that. I am eating right, burning 1000 calories each session. Only thing… I am in sooo much pain. Hopefully when I reach my target I can loosen up the training.

I have been to a few art walks in Ballard. The usual there, getting hopped up on wine and cheese and getting my “spiritual cards” read and what not. Gallivanting around town as usual, and enjoying the scenery. I have met some wonderful people along the way and hope to meet more. People are life.

Yesterday was the Summer Solstice in Fremont. I biked there (14 miles total) and it was an excellent day. Getting there around 11am, heading to the bar patio and drinking, what appears on the receipt, 10 vodka-sevens. It was a good day. Party after that, but on the way made some kids day. They were selling home made cookies on the corner for 50 cents a piece. I told them I would buy 20 of them, but they couldn’t hold the order… So I just bought what they wanted me to (8 cookies) and distributed them at the party. I only had one, and to tell you the truth, they could of sold them for 1 dollar they were so good.

So, I think I caught up with everything for now. I might not get back to the blog thing for a while, but here are a few things that are coming up: I am heading to a designers seminar this week, meeting the co-father of XML (I know I am an uber-dork), I am saving up for the Archipelagos which will happen in fall for some diving with the hammer head sharks. I am going to try and squeeze in a few camping/hiking trips this summer, hopefully that will not affect my shoulder. Oh yeah, I hope the shoulder will heal as well. Pretty much I have to be on the low down for a while so I can afford the dive trip. It is a 5 star dive ship I will be aboard, but it will be worth it in the end. Maybe, I will re-finance the house and start on the kitchen this summer, and I am sure there are tons of little adventures that I will have in between. Hopefully you folks are satisfied with this blog entry until next time – Live the Life!

The TSA Took Away My Nitro Glycerin!

2007-04-01T23:06:00.000-07:00

Just recently, my work sent me on a fool's errand to Denver and Detroit for a week. I had them book an early flight so that I may hang out with my college buddies that all moved there. It was one crazy roller coaster of a time for those days. There is a lot to write about so let's start.

In the middle of the working day, I head to the airport, donning the corporate outfit, 3 hours early before the plane lifts off. A $100 dollar tab at the bar later my flight finally boards. Now, you say $100 dollars? I say yes, for this has to be kick start of the bad craziness with my fellow college peers in Denver.

Two and half hours later, with 2 bottles of airline vodka shoved in my shirt pocket I finally arrive in Denver. Friends are waiting at the baggage claim. While waiting, I down those two bottles, grab the luggage, and head out.

Staggering out of the terminal and into an enormous Ford Pickup truck, my friends hand me a beer. Let the games begin. Rad Craziness.

We get to my friends house and drink until 4 in the morning, catching up on old times. Then the 8 inch kitchen knives come out. After disarming, I snatch the blade and tuck it safely away in my suit pocket. A little later, blood is pouring from my finger. Not from the blade, but from me trying to open up a beer bottle with a lighter. I realized I'm not the best at that skill. Just as the grass is green, water is wet, and I was drunk.

Next morning, dry mouth, fuzzy mind, and blood on my shirt I throw on my boots and we decide to go hiking in the Rockies. Driving up, we pass through Golden Colorado. And what is in Golden you ask? Why, the Coors Brewery of course. Now the question in our head is either free beer or hiking? Well that was an easy answer - free beer! So we blow the hiking bit and decide to do the 50 minute brewery tour hike. At the end we have our libations in time for St. Patrick's Day to arrive.

After the beers, we got lost in the Miners College and happened upon a howitzer in front of the music building. An undecided venture, we then took un-scheduled howitzer tour by ourselves by crossing the campus to find all the various cannons. After our short little history bit, we decide to finally go to the mountains. Not much at this point, just the house of a Woody Allen movie, buffalo, dinosaur tracks, and racing speedway.

On our way back to the bar we are suppose to meet for St. Patty's day, we stop off for some margaritas. All the while, the driver screaming, "Don't worry 'bout me driving, I'm from Arizona, and I'm on narcotics!" A welcoming thought. We show up at Illegal Pete's in a suburb of Colorado, where another college friend is singing on stage. After a few sets of Tenacious D covers, lots of beer, and a girl with a fantastic body (but unbelievable high squeaky voice) our St. Patty night comes to the end. Only to realize, Colorado does not serve booze in stores after midnight.

We head home to the Hippie's house, and we find a 2 year old bottle of absinthe in the back of his cupboard. 5 hours later, in a lofty kind of fuzzy, I fix the Hippie's blog fixed in my scattered brained state, everyone is passed out and we are watching the last episodes of Saddam Hussein being hung - from all angles.

Waking up at the crack of noon, we then try to please the Right wing fanatic and head to the Denver gun show. Hopping in his truck with no passenger seat, sitting on a military box full of ammo, while the hippie is in the back holding on to dear life, we head to the show. Now there was a scene. Knowing at some point in time, in that warehouse, a gun, from somebody, was being pointed directly at the hippie. It brought a smile to my face.

There are so many details I left out on this story, but I just noticed that this is quite lengthy so I will try to hurry up and finish.

All in all, they drop me off at my hotel; I go to work, then off to Detroit. Nothing there, except all I can say is that you can buy a lot of food for cheap! Now I know why Detroit is the fattest city in America.

As usual folks…. Enjoy life, and don't let the hippies bring you down.

A Very Spanish Holidays

2007-03-26T23:03:00.000-07:00

I know, I know. I have been a horrible blogger. I haven't updated this thing in ages. So I am actually forcing myself to write this. In fact, this is a wonderful procrastination tactic when I don't want to do work at home.

So, in order for easier reading, I am breaking apart the 3 month write up into different sections. So, you, my humble readers can slag off at work and quickly read before your boss looks over your shoulders. Smart, ain't I?

Let's start with the end of the holidays. The trip to San Diego was a blast. The whole time was dealt with drinking margaritas and dancing flamenco, samba, rumba, meringue, you name it. We danced it. Oh it was like sweet monkey love. The thing is, a beautiful flamenco dancer was adopted into our family over the holidays. She taught us many moves. The kids absolutely loved it. I know I did. Oh, and Miss Flamenco Dancer? I promise, I will paint you your painting. I just need some time to get my studio ready.

The holidays also included going to my Dad's Doctor, whose house overlooked the ocean. And yes… his house also included margaritas.

But it wasn't all just fun and margaritas. We went to the beach and saved 4 little star fishes. I was humbled. So my nephew and I had to pose for the Tiger Crazy Monkey Claw attack move. Also, being the cold weather person that I am, I had to jump into the ocean. It positively, absolutely a must. It is sort of like a parallel to that cliche, "Why do we climb a mountain? because it's there!" Well, same thing with the ocean, "Why do I jump into the ocean.... it's there!" Oh and it was refreshing.

2 Month Catch Up - Including ANNUAL WHISTLER TRIP!

2006-12-05T20:39:00.000-08:00

The Monthly Catch Up!

October
Let's see… Oh yes, October - that was that Halloween month. Although I was battling a fierce cold, I was dragged out of my condo by friends, while rushing to put on my makeshift costume. I was "The Shanghai Kid with a Vengeance." Since it was a while ago, it now is such a blur. Anyhoo, there were a few more parties of the sorts, B-Days, Ballard Art Walks, and just your general lolly gagging around town. Nothing too much that comes to mind.

But what I really came to talk to you about was the Annual Whistler Trip 2006! Weee!

Whistler II: Thanksgiving Weekend 2006
So my cohort and I finally arrive at Whistler. The snow started to come down by the time we got passed Squammish. With the NWA blaring on the mp3 player we knew it was going to be a good trip.

A quick stop at the liquor store and off to our usual digs. That weekend, Whistler had its best snow since 1994. Completely amazing. Top of the mountain was -22 Celsius (-8 F). My sideburns actually had icicles running off them. It was rad man! So to capture the event, like last time, I create yet a longer movie of our escapades. Since Youtube only has a 10 minute limit for the free account, I had to separate the movie into 2 parts. It pretty much just speaks for itself. And as usual, what happened in Whistler - stays in Whistler.

Except this shout out to Tara: Tara! I would have taken you up on your offer, but I was just way too thrashed. Maybe I will see you next time! If you are still there, you crazy Ontarian Diamond. Shine on!

Now we come to December.

Busy with the remodel, as usual, but I have recently joined some figure drawing classes to get me in the mood to paint again. A break from the regular house painting. Totally cool. I am so psyched of these classes, I had to go out and buy a bunch of art supplies. Here are my first few sketches.

As for now, my mind is blown from all the creative junk. The creation of the movies, the figure drawing and of course trying to find the words for this blog.

The month ahead, I will be off traveling to Phoenix then to San Diego for a little surfing. I will try to post before hand, but if not Happy Winter Solstice and a Merry New Year!

Flashback Dialogues: The New Saint, circa 1995

2006-10-24T00:02:00.000-07:00

My first year in Seattle, I was on the verge of being homeless. Being a muralist in Seattle at the time, the only place that I could find cheap to live was in an artist commune. Five collective artists renting out a 2000 square foot warehouse in the middle of the SoDo District with a show gallery in the foyer. The loft consisted of two painters, two writers and a pianist who had to build our rooms. We had church pews for a dining set, airline seats for our lounge and a swing that was attached from our 25 foot ceiling. We set up the swing from a broken down office chair, and if you got high enough, it would shoot through our 12 foot windows and you can basically float above 1st avenue. Every Sunday we had to endure the opera, La Boheme, while the writer tapped away at his vintage typewriter. After so many Sundays, the rest of us would head to Torrefazione for our morning coffee, then to Elliot Bay Books for a little reading. We had a resident homeless guy that slept outside of our service elevator which was the entrance to our suite.

We also had a wet behind the ears, token Asian guy. The female writer took it upon herself to mold this kid into a metro sexual effeminate male. He was the heir to the maker in China of those cheap crappy sunglasses you buy at 7-Eleven for 6 bucks. My drinking buddy, the couch surfer at the time, and I usually stole him away and took him to his first of many strip clubs and brought him home drunk more than half the time. The female writer did not appreciate what we did to him that much. But we showed him the life. He personally thanked us later with a box of cheap sunglasses when he arrived back in China.

The floor below was occupied by an S&M shop that created whips and other naughty toys. Every once in a while, you can hear a whip crack and a sudden scream right after. The floor had cracks between the boards, and every once in a while, I would come home to all my loft mates sprawled out on the floor with eyes to the cracks watching the whipping or lashing of a women, a short scream, then immediately after, you could hear a guy say "That works!"

Above was a personal trainer. Every other Wednesday, we could hear the aerobics go up and down our ceiling, and shortly after, the squeals and panting of the women that the trainer had seduced afterwards.

Down the hall, we had a thespian that would dress up in the Italian clown outfit, donning the top hat, full body polka dotted suit and the Venetian character's Zanni mask. He would live above the refrigerator while his roommate would sleep on the pedestal in the middle of the room. He never spoke a word.

All the while, next door, Bill Nye the science guy had his studio. Walking by, we would always see his moss covered van and some kind of flashy lights within his window. Every once in a blue moon the Promise Keepers would hold meetings in the King Dome directly across the street from us.

For extra cash and to pay the bills, I bartended at the Art Bar located in down town Seattle. The things I would see. The Fetish shows, the after hour rave parties, 24x7 partying, VIP rooms, free booze, backstage access, midnight shopping at the S&M shop, celebrities, fashion models, strippers, free cover to any venue, penthouse parties, private suites at the Key Arena, and stealing AC/DC's beer while they played. The type of partying where you didn't want to stop or else you would feel the guilt trip for the weeks to come. We were kings and queens of Seattle.

The painting shown above shows how ashamed, if there was a god, he would be with the state of the world in its condition at that time. Maybe it was just our mindset at that time that seemed out of place. In the background, you can see the long lost forgotten god of my past. Agog, the god that helped me through my college years and its debauchery, the god that let me live through all the cliff diving experiences, the lost idol that helped me through all the torments of youth.

Flashback Dialogues: Viva Liberation, circa 1993

2006-10-12T20:13:00.000-07:00

Ah yes, the university years once again. This piece is still a mystery to me. Let me give you a little background of where I was at during this time.

My 3rd year in college I used to live in this mad house. It was off the beaten track and we had plenty of roommates and a barnyard kind of scene. 5 dogs and 3 cats that always used to play chase throughout the whole house. I wanted a couple chickens to chase the cats just to add to the mix. I never did get any. This is the house where we had the infamous nude parties, which entailed drinking, body painting and all other forms of artful expression.

One day after a day of class, I arrived at my home. Only to find the door wide open and in direct line of the doorway was our piano, and on that piano sat my good friend Perry. Butt naked playing and singing "Imagine" by John Lennon on the piano, with a half full fifth of Vodka for the entire world to see passing by. I walk past, shaking my head, and into the kitchen. Where my three other roommates are, with glazed over eyes of crazy men. They are apparently cooking something. I ask and they reply with eyes wide open and an evil smile, "Hash brownies, man!" Meanwhile, in the garage, the catholic school girl and her gothic entourage are raving it up with a huge pile of crystal methamphetamine. I put my hands in the air with defeat and head back to my room, passing the Hippie's room, I look in, and he is drumming slowly on his djembe drum chanting "Schumbi… Schumbi… Schumbi." Earlier that day, his dog "spoke" to him, and the name he was chanting was what the dog said that he wanted to be named. I turn direction and entered my room - the so called opium den. With its colorful tapestries hanging from walls and ceiling, fish netting holding shells and odd trinkets, the custom made hookah chair in the corner and the psychedelic cloth prints on the wall laced with phosphorous for when the black light kicked on.

Here in my snuggly little fabricated womb I found solstice and I went on a quest for that dreaded "L" word. Yes, love. So I asked one of the female roommates about how to find a woman. She said, "You are not an asshole. Women love assholes and you are just not one of them."

With this new enlightenment, I head to a party later that night with two fifths of tequila and my new costume of "assholiness". That night, I was slapped 33 times. Apparently I played the part of the "Too much of an asshole." Giving up, I partake in the finishing off both bottles of tequila. Around 2am, my bottles are empty and I am little out of my mind, I decide to call it a night and go home.

I remember getting to my truck, then looking at the keys in my hand, then looking back at my truck, looking at the keys, the truck. I do this a few times then just laugh out loud and throw my keys at my truck. I decide to walk home since I was in no state of driving. It's a good four mile walk.

Walking down a barely lit back road in the middle of a Flagstaff forest, I happen upon a Volkswagen Bug's hubcap. At this point I thought it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I snatched it up and shoved it underneath my shirt. Now walking in the middle of the road on the yellow line, this is the first time ever that I can remember that I lost motor skills. My legs gave out beneath me and I am now lying in the middle of the road upon the yellow line. Staring at the stars, I just say "Wow. What the hell just happened?" Pick myself up and continue walking.

When I was a boy, I always heard of horror stories of the local Apache Indians of how if you crossed into their reservation, you had a good chance of being stabbed. I later found out this was just a scare tactic so that I wouldn't run off without my family.

Walking again now with the hubcap under my shirt thinking to myself, "Oh yeah, I am well protected! Somebody please try to stab me! I can survive!" This was apparently the crazy tequila talking. Behind me, I see headlights coming down the road. I walk to the side and stick out my thumb, getting tired of walking. An old '78 Ford pickup passes by and stops for me. I jump into the cab. The Navajo inside asks, "Where ya headed?" I tell him, and he says he can drop me a block off of my destination.

Now sitting in the cab, hubcap in place, I am repeatedly thinking over and over again, come on, stab me. Stab me! I ask the man his name. He says "Nick." I think to myself that that isn't a very Native American name. After that, we get along gloriously.

Without incident he drops me off a block from my home, I thank him for the ride and I press on. Now thinking on the way home, "I am going to rape Perry". Perry always plays that "gay" card with me at other times. You know, the straight man's game of trying to test your best friend's manhood? Blowing kisses, fondling my chest, the works. So I decide to turn the tables on him.

I walk into the house and jump on him. He hits the floor and I am on top trying to rip his shirt off. To this day, he still believes that I was trying to sodomize him. After much wrestling and maniacal laughter, I see London. London was this creepy chick that used to hang around our home. She was this gorgeous half Cherokee, half German girl with these gigantic glasses but her mind wasn't always there. When I see her standing over us, I release my grip from Perry's shirt collar and he falls to the ground. I grab London and throw her over my shoulder and make for my bedroom.

The next morning after London left, on my drafting table, I noticed a sketch of what you see here. I don't even remember sketching this thing. I later water colored in the rest, but I believe it was a commentary about love and relationships. Not to mention the stings of the 33 slaps.

Flashback Dialogues: Los Dios de Muertos, circa 1992/93

2006-10-02T22:21:00.000-07:00

UPDATE:

Okay, so the owner of this painting viewed this blog and was in shock of the really horrible photograph I took 12 years ago. (Lets face it, I didnt take Photography that early). So, the owner snapped a shot from his digital camera and sent the file to me - to you. He wanted you folks to see all the color and glory that now dons his wall. Thanks Lono.

WARNING: REALLY LONG - I TRIED TO CONDENSE - BUT HEY, WHAT CAN YOU DO?

During this part of my life it was all about Mexico. Attending so many Mexican cultural functions in Phoenix one can only go so far. So I had the opportunity to hitch a ride with an eccentric NYU English professor to Guaymas Mexico, where she worked at the University teaching English. It was quite the experience to remember. So let's begin.

After a drunken spell and some self loathing due to missing a date with a beautiful girl, my next door neighbor pulls me out of my house in Phoenix. He bandages my fist to clot the blood that, somehow, the stereo, wall, doors and other things around my room sliced it open with fury. He carries me to his truck, and drives out of town towards the girl that is now beckoning me.

The next day, I am dropped off at a Frank Lloyd Wright house where Dr. Elaine Rice meets me. I am to help her and drive to Guaymas Mexico where she now resides with her five Shih Tzu's. She drives a Dodge Omni.

I remember it was a humid day in August and we stop at the store to buy 150 dollars worth of dog food. The monsoon season was upon us and the rains came pouring down. The rain was so bad that at one point our windshield wipers were useless. I was driving blind for a good 15 minutes just hoping the road was straight.

We arrive in Green Valley Arizona and take quarter at a friend's home of the good doctor. Jebediah Horner - who seems to be a burnt out old beatnik, but I later found out that he used to be some famous director on the Broadway circuit. He was a welcoming man and I learned a lot.

The next day, we cross over into Mexico beyond the Free Trade Zone, while being held up at the last border crossing. At this time the doctor speaks to me of Mexican revolution and how they will soon attack America. Being green at this, I feel the hairs on the back of my neck rise as the Mexican military comes up to my side of the door wielding his automatic rifle. 4 hours of detainment we finally are let go and we are shakily on our way. As we drive I see all the burnt out freight containers atop of derailed train beds. Within these containers, families are living and staring at us as we drive passing. I can still see their haunting eyes staring at me.

6 hours later we arrive in San Carlos. Driving in a bogged down Omni through jagged dirt roads we pass feral dogs running along side, a Federali station and finally her home. The doctor points me to my small room which actually is for the dogs. Yes, I am literally living in the doghouse with 5 Shih Tzus. I grab my external frame pack and try to make it as comfy as possible.

During my stay here, I met a crazy man. Gerhard, a schizophrenic German artist who was exiled to Mexico for some reason or other, who lived off of carving wooden fish and selling them to the tourists on the other side of the mountain. Thank god for him. He brought the casks of wine and all three of us would talk of revolution till the wee hours of morning while the bull frogs hopped at our feet.

During my stint, the Doctor gave me some Spanish flash cards so I can brush up on my language skills. I helped her out at the University as her Teachers assistant - which in turn, the students usually took my out for drinks later on and showed me the Mexican nightlife. Ahh… the women I wooed that night, dancing away to salsa music while the moon showered diamond's sparkle on the ocean from the view from the bar.

At the end of my stay, Hurricane Andrew came rolling through. I remember I was on top of Dr. Rice's roof with my black and white camera snapping away. The winds were picking up like crazy. I remember I enjoyed this since the humidity was killing me. The gusts of wind were welcoming. I finally head in late at night. I fall asleep. Two or three hours later complete chaos. Dogs barking, someone screaming, I am jolted away only to realize that smoke is crawling along the ceiling. There was about 3 feet of clear air, so I drop to my knees and open the door. The kitchen is ablaze - fire spewing out of the electrical box and Dr. Rice in mid throw of a bucket of water. I think, oh god - electrocution. Luckily it didn't happen.

Lightning struck the ground, traveled through the wires and caught her house on fire. From here on out we had no electricity. I slept my last few days out on the hammock along with the frogs.

After a week or so, my time was finally up. I had to catch a train back to the states. This is where I meet Salvador. At first he seems to be homeless, but he ends up giving me 2-40 ounce beers for my travels. He cries on my shoulder. Telling me of stories of past week, were banditos robbed the train, and his brother was shot and killed.

My train arrives, and I am on my way. I can hear Salvador screaming my name "Jonathan!" I look back and there he is with both arms up and waving. I scream back "Salvador!" This goes on for a while until he becomes a speck in my train window. After a 10 hour train ride riding on nerves I finally arrive back at the US/Mexican border. After an unnerving taxi ride which ended up on sidewalks and through the border I am finally in the US - only to lose my ID after I bought the tickets for the grey hound bus. Border patrol comes on, and I am looking Spanish as ever. Dark tan, curly black hair I have to think quick, donning a surfer accent I explain to the patrol my situation. They laugh it off.

I arrive in downtown Phoenix. Right next to the night club, where the girl I started the story with hangs out at. I poke my head into the door and there she is.

Full Circle.

After a few weeks of detox and back in Flagstaff at the University I get some studio time to paint an oil panel painting - 'Los Dios de Meurtos". This currently resides in Colorado in a private residence.

A Rare Opportunity: Top of the World!

2006-10-01T22:03:00.000-07:00

Last Thursday, I had the rare opportunity to eat lunch atop of The Paramount Theater (A picture from the outside), a venue that hosted such famous artist as Elvis Costello, DEVO, and Bill Clinton. My fellow co-worker invited me and another to this exciting little excursion. We grabbed our teriyaki sandwiches from 2nd and Pike and headed over to meet his friend. After dealing with a manual control elevator, a few narrow stair wells and a treacherous climb up some old fire escape ladder to the top we arrive to the top of the world. I have to admit, it was kind of hard at first to climb in a pair of Italian leather dress shoes, but we managed.

As this was a great photo op, we grabbed out cameras and snapped away. My co-worker got a hold of this fantastic panorama of us sitting down and enjoying the view. Since flickr.com doesn't allow large images, the panorama was reduced highly, but I can assure you that the original image is breathtaking.

…And now for something completely different - my catch up monologue of the last week or so.

Last weekend was Freemont's Oktoberfest. Ah yes, the days of fall and drinking are coming alive. All too well. The start of the drinking season is about to begin. And we started off in the usual escapades. Put it this way, I personally started to drink around 10am at my house while playing with a miter saw and pneumatic nail gun. Power tools and booze is always a fun combination. I head to Freemont and wait for my friends at the George and Dragon. 4 Vodkas. Then meander to the festival. I can't count the beers at this point. Then off to Taiku for our Yohimbe drinks. It was quite a nice night.

That is all for now. LIFE - LIVE IT!

Flashback Dialogues: Father Sun, circa 1992

2006-09-22T19:37:00.000-07:00

I just recently found this scratch board piece that was part of the Epiphany show along side of the 'De-Evolution' piece. As you can see, I loved the sun. Raised in Phoenix I thought I would hate the heat for the rest of my life, hence I moved northbound to Flagstaff. Here is a story that might explain my train of thought at the time and where my mind was focused.

I used to live in the dormitories, the highest building in Flagstaff - 8 whopping stories. I lived on the 7th. Odd what a university does, it bonds people together in a brotherhood of sorts - a brotherhood of alcohol.

During the time of this scratchboard piece, our brotherhood heard of a toga party in Tucson - approximately 230 miles away. Yearning for the heat we decide to head down there. Gathering bed sheets and odd pieces of cloth we head south. They decide that I am a driver. So we all cram into my blue 1984 Chevy Cavalier. There was another truck that carried others. I can't remember how many of us where on the road trip but best guess will be at 10.

On the way down, my car decides to have a tantrum. So luckily, my parent's house was on the way. We swap cars out for a 1980 blue Chevy long bed pickup truck. Don't ask me the deal about the blue Chevy's that run in the family - just coincidence.

After some time we finally arrive in Tucson. We head to a liquor store and I pick up a fifth of tequila (This was my usual way fare at the time). We then don our togas. Funny thing about a few of our togas - they were bright red. That didn't matter though. So now my brotherhood and I head to this party looking almost like Hare Krishna's, except for the bald head. I remember at one point I was standing on adobe wall while staring off into the desert. Fifth in hand, drinking out of the bottle, all of a sudden I go into some kind of crazy dance. Dance of the liquor? Maybe. But it was joyous dance.

Also this point in time, I pierced one of my nipples at that time (Three days prior to the trip). The only thing I can remember of that night was that damn nipple ring snagging on the toga and tearing out. Luckily the end of the bottle of tequila saved me.

Next thing I remember, waking up in the back of the blue Chevy pickup, cradled in the spare tire. I stand. I am not in Tucson anymore. We are 45 miles north heading our way back to Flagstaff. Suddenly I notice I am only in my boxer shorts at the time. From what I gather later on, the toga flew off somewhere on the mad dash away from Tucson.

Looking around, squinting my eyes from the brightness of the sun, to get my bearings, I notice am in a parking lot. 3 Rows over, in the other tuck that accompanied us on this trip - there was one of my friends in the same predicament. Both standing now, in a busy parking lot only in our boxer shorts we stare at each other in disbelief. We started cracking up hysterically. I look behind me and notice the Burger King. All of our friends are already inside eating and waving to us through the window.

After a putting some clothes on, a burger and some fries, I feel up to par and continue our journey northbound. It was one of those road trips. On that day, I realized the sun was good and I knew that I was in good hands. Friends, sunshine and a good road trip make for a warm feeling.

Flashback Dialogues: De-Evolution, @1992

2006-09-19T20:54:00.003-07:00

Sorry about this one… no humor to be had here.

Living in Flagstaff Arizona I used to always hit the local coffee houses for a cup of java and to people watch. Heck, I still do - the people watching. As I was doing this, I was noticing a change in society - maybe for the worst. Maybe I was just too naïve to just pick up on it at the time and it always was there, but I finally noticed. Due to my post-teenage angst, I really started to hate people. Maybe it was that what I saw was a primitive set back. I would see couples walking by, and whenever another male would leer at the taken female, the coupled male would beat his chest like a crazy ape protecting his territory. Animalistic needs taking over the so called 'civility of humans' through primal emotions.

Watching all this, I thought to myself, "My god, I used to hear stories about a generation that had tact and pleasantries. A society built on the foundation of good will towards men and women, where honesty and kindliness ruled the land." I saw none of this. I saw jealous rage, greed mongers and outright zealots nay saying and pointing fingers. As if I saw the degradation of society turning backwards in time, starting with the Inquisition of free thinkers, and recessing into the Paleolithic period of Cro-Magnon man beating down others while protecting his property.

So with a knife and scratch board in hand, I started to scratch away and thus the piece 'De-Evolution' was created. It wasn't a man evolving, but the exact opposite - a man trying to struggle away from his ultimate fate, aiming for the Sun for his freedom, while being chomped down from the evolutionary chain, where his ultimate demise is to eventually be swallowed by the primordial ooze that once started life.

After completing this work, it was submitted into a judged art show where I eventually had my own solo gallery opening among other pieces of mine, and it was then published in a literary magazine, Epiphany, that was distributed all throughout Oregon. It was my first published piece of work.

Flashback Dialogues: Prologue

2006-09-19T19:54:00.001-07:00

So, I just decided to have a little side project here on the 'WOO'. Every once in a while when I get into stories, I sometimes say, "But that is another story for another time." Well, I thought it would be good to finally write some of these things down.

I am not sure if you faithful readers out there know it, but I am a painter as well. No? Well I am. No I'm not a commercial painter….nor do I paint monkeys - hey - that actually might be kind of cool. Anyway, I actually have a Bachelor of Fine Arts degree from a University. Wow! I still can't believe I got edumicated.

Along my journey, I have dabbled in a few paintings. I haven't painted for a while since I lost some studio space, so I figured this would be a good time to post my past paintings, sketches, illustrations etc. etc. and I could tell the story behind the image… or at least tell how the picture came to be. In a way, it will be like VH1's "Story Tellers" but about paintings and stuff.

I will try to at least try to write a story once a week… but I am not guaranteeing anything. Besides, I have to find time to hack those dead hookers apart and hide the pieces. ;o)

So watch out for the 'Flashback' dialogues.

Another Day in the Life of Juanito El Bandito: Part II

2006-09-14T00:45:00.000-07:00

Okay, back to being sober and I can continue with this entry.

Last I left you; we were heading from the massage parlor to a communal print house. I love hanging out at this place. They have litho printing presses, intaglio studios and a bunch of artists' studios all through out the building. We hang here for quite a while going to all 3 floors while chatting to each individual artist. All in all it was a great time.

Dirt, Wind and I get hungry and after much debate we finally just say "Denny's". On our way there, I get side tracked and lose the two elements. I head into a 7-eleven for a pack of smokes and low and behold - I see an imitation Barbie doll for 4 bucks. I had to get it. I don't know if it was the vodka talking or the bright lights of 7-eleven.

So now I am walking down the street with a pseudo-Barbie doll in my back pocket - and I finally arrive into Denny's where Dirt and Wind are waiting for me. I pass the pseudo-Barbie to Wind and we have a joyous greasy meal. At the end of the meal we pay the check and we show the pseudo-Barbie to the clerk. Big bald dude that looks like a biker grabs the pseudo-Barbie and slams it the floor behind the counter. All elements and I were on the floor rolling in laughter. It was the Apex of our evening.

The next day occurs. After I grabbed the truck - I headed to the city dump and flung huge glass pains into the air. I was proud to say I was the loudest guy there. Between the window panes and the fake marble for the shower - it was shatter city.

I went the lumber store again, and bought all my molding for the framing of the doors. That was a pain. I sliced up my arms pretty good too, while carting all the wood from truck to condo. After that, I then drive to my brother's in-laws to pick up my new leather couches. I am so happy about this. I now have the living room livable.

After that is done, now I have to race time to meet up with the Elements for our friend's art opening. The Elements, meanwhile, were trying to set up a blind date for me. I am an hour late. I miss the opportunity. So the Elements and I sit down and drink a beer before going to the café in which the art resides.

Moment I walk in, I see children cuddling their entrails. This is the artwork my friend does. Actually pretty good illustrations, I was actually impressed due to the amount of swag that usually clogs the galleries. Out of nowhere I hear this voice,

"Cookie?"

"Why yes", I reply.

"I cooked them myself", says the artist.

So here I am eating wonderful cookies and admiring entrails. It was a good day.

That's all I can remember of the weekend, but today something fun happened. Dirt and I decided to do lunch at some highly talked about deli. I guess they make their own meat. The place was called Salumi's. There was a half hour line and the sandwiches were amazing. I would highly suggest it, if you had the time. But the fun part was, not only did I buy a sandwich, but I also bought salami. So here I am walking down the street with a big cheese eating grin on my face with a pound of salami in my pocket.

I will leave you with that image to ponder on. Until then… have some salami, wont you?

Another Day in the Life of Juanito El Bandito: Part I

2006-09-13T00:28:00.000-07:00

So I was eating a cookie and watching children cuddle their entrails. Yes, this is what I did last weekend.

To start this story, let's begin from the beginning… or shall I say the end. I am drunk typing right now relying on this Microsoft Word to help me with spelling and grammar. Drunk you say? But of course… what's new. It started with the cleaning of the condo and ended up with a bottle of wine while listening to my "Girly Tunes" play list on the computer. So in my stupor, I decided to write about my past weekend. Nothing much, just the usual as the blog title explains.

So let's get this thing started.

Friday… hmm… get home and pass out at 5:30pm and don't wake up till the next morning. So can't say much about that day. All I know was that I was really tired due to the past weekend of SCUBA, lack of sleep, and amoxicillin for my ear infection.

Saturday, I wake up refreshed and cheery eyed - ready to conquer the world so to speak. First things first, I need to send off my SCUBA tanks to get their annual visual inspections (VIPs) and off I go to pick a truck from my brother. I need the truck for the items I need to do that are rolling through my head. Head to my brothers house and pick up the vehicle. This is no ordinary vehicle; it's the exact duplicate of the truck from 'Back to the Future - Parts I & III' minus the roll bar and KC lights. I need to make a trip to the city dump which includes my … wait just a minute… that was Sunday.

What the hell happened to Saturday?

(A long moment of thought occurs here)

Screw it, I can't remember. So Sunday, my brother and I head to my house and grab some random stuff to take to the dump, along with his stuff already loaded in the truck. He leaves and I have a whale of time of throwing…

Wait a minute… I remember going to Dunn Lumber to look at wood on Saturday. A HA! Now I remember, after checking out the wood at the lumber store, I call my good friends (I will use Elements to name these folks now) - Dirt and Wind. Just by chance, it happens to be the Ballard Art Walk. I accompany them to view all the local artist work.

First things in order - I need a drink. So after I meet up with Dirt and Wind, we head to Hazelwood's and check out the photographs from the Midwest and East Berlin. I grab a vodka tonic. I see my favorite girl there and she is having an art opening on Sunday. Sweet! Not much here, but since I haven't eatin' anything, the vodka takes over. I head next door to the tattoo parlor and start yapping it up with the artist. No sir, didn't like their style. I pass.

Next bar was a new one… something about Hardware or something. I cant remember the name, the drinks were weak, but they had a good deck.

Then I think we went to a massage parlor where they served us free wine and food. I just had the wine. Taking it in, I sit down and relax. Not much to see here kids - move along.

Last part of art walk, we head to ….

Did I mention I was drunk right now? I tend to ramble, don't I? I swear I can a write a 200 page novelette about a one hour excursion. Sort of like Robert Jordan (inside joke for us uber geeks).

GEEZ… I just realized the time… I need to get to bed for work tomorrow.

This will have to continue tomorrow…(9/13)

90mph to Underwater Shark Dreams

2006-09-05T19:51:00.000-07:00

After the traffic jams and road rage, I was screaming through the U.S. / Canadian Border with a fully loaded car, racing down Highway 1, around the city of Vancouver, at 90 miles per hour taking curves at 80. Every bump I take shoots sparks out of the bottom of my carriage. I finally arrive at the Horseshoe Basin Ferry terminal. Cutting across 7 lanes I aim straight for the toll booth. The lady waves me down and yells, "You're the last one! Go! Go! Go!" The credit card flies back into the air and into my hand. I race towards the ferry bottoming out every time I hit one of those god damned speed bumps. Damn those speed bumps, they keep slowing me down. I hop the Ferry and take the very last spot. I made the 8:25.

Hello folks! Nice story above, eh? It was all true, well, except for the sparks flying out. Oh and actually, I gave the credit card first to the lady - she threw after she swiped. That was just the start of my Labor Day weekend.

But before I get to that, I got "Lots of essplainin' to do…" Why I haven't written as much as have in the past? First things first, as you already know, I am officially moved into my house. It took an extra month to get internet back up due to obvious family emergencies as mentioned a blog back. I have been very busy with the move. I started phase one of the renovations, and I am 80% done. I re-wired the whole darn place and replaced every outlet, switch and thermostat with new Decorum and went all digital. I even have timers now in the bathrooms. The painting is done in the main rooms and I have already chosen my molding and started to paint small amounts of it. So, that is where I am today. The molding hopefully gets done next week or 2 weeks. I can't decide. I am having too much fun.

So let's start with my diving story. After my eventful day of arriving at Porpoise Bay Charters, the next day, we wake up early and grab a quick breakfast. I scramble to load all my gear into the skiff. We head out to the Agamemnon Channel. Suit up. I get Bob the angry diver, as I call him, for my dive partner. He wants to go deep (130 ft or more) on the first plunge. I nod and say okay. By the time I get to the 119 ft, I start to 'narc' out. Nitrogen Narcosis. First time that's ever happened to me. Things get all dizzy and my lips start to go numb. Imagine drinking 8 martinis. Well, that's how I felt. I alert Bob and tell him I'm heading up a few more feet to get out of the craziness. He was well below me at this point. After my head comes to normalize at 60 feet we spent a good deal looking for stuff. I had this great shell but it was so brittle in broke in my hands.

The next dive we do is Stag wall. We drop to 80 feet and just hang out with the drift, nothing too spectacular on this dive.

The last dive of the day we head to Saginaw Rock. This was the place where I played with the baby seals last time. No seals this time. We drop and suddenly get caught in all the kelp. Forests of kelp. Visibility was horrible until we dropped down to 45 feet. After tinkering around the pinnacle, Bob waves his light at me; I turn, and see him doing the universal sign language of 'SHARK!' Yup, that's right. A blue shark came to visit us, he was roughly 4 feet swimming below me. I let him pass. He was a smaller shark that was roughly around 3 ½ feet long. I gulped a bunch of air. Totally cool! After that, we keep playing around and next thing Bob alerts me to, is this Giant Nudibranch. At first I thought just to be another anemone, but he picks it up and makes it float. It starts to toss and turn, righting itself up. It was a really interesting animal.

We finally return back to shore for a 2 hour nap and a good prime rib dinner with beers. Let me tell you about my dive group. Every time I hang out with these guys, I am always the little man on the totem pole. They all consist of dive directors and instructors. So here I am getting badgered left and right. I was even their 'ice boy' for their drinks a night or so. They were there to do technical diving, getting down to 200ft depth. It was insane the equipment that they had to carry - 4 Tanks of all different types of gasses. One day I will match up with them….. one day.

2nd day we wake up to some great Eggs Benedict, then off to our last two dives. I now partner up with a couple. First dive, we head out to Stag Wall again and drop down to 107 ft. pretty much, I was searching for some sea urchin shells this time around. I found 3, but they ended up getting crushed in my pocket. I was kind of bummed about that.

Second dive, we headed out to the HMCS Chaudiere. We sit back to let the deep divers take there break, then all of a sudden hordes of seals come swimming by. There were at least 8 groups of 5 swimming around us. It was a really cool site to see. This is a 400 ft Canadian Navy Destroyer escort. I have been here before, so I take lead and head down to 100 feet, playing around the gun turrets. This is the first time I got to explore this ship wreck. I had a chance to look into the main deck and explore all around the outside of the ship. Attached to the side of the ship was this giant Lions Mane Jellyfish. This thing had tentacles of at least 20 feet long and had roughly a 3 foot wide body. It was kind of spooky; it reminded me of those sentinels from The Matrix. I felt really comfortable with this dive.

After heading back, we then pack up and say our goodbyes. We head out to the ferry and I make it back to my home, only to do a pit stop and drink with an old friend of mine. I arrive at 2 in the morning to my brand new spanking bed and dream away all the dreams. It was a good Labor Day weekend.

This was a long one… I know. But hey, I haven't written in a while.

Enjoy as usual folks!

Papa's Boy

2006-08-18T15:18:00.000-07:00

I have been always known to be a "Daddy's Boy". Always tagging alongside my father wherever he went. Whether it was underneath the hood of the old Ford LTD II or on a road trip to various hospitals in northern Arizona for business. He taught us many things which included carpentry, tiling and electical, albeit I think thats why I am afraid of electricity now a days. He always had a project around the house that kept us busy. And we learned quite a bit.

He was a quiet man. In my teens, I would always try to get him to talk about his past. A few nights I would always pour him a glass of his favorite scotch while I poured myself a glass of vodka and we would talk about his past in the wee hours of the morning while watching old James Dean movies on the television.

He even gave me the father/son talk one time in Mexico - The 3 most important things in life. The tradition was, I had to have a friend along so he had a good audience. I will never forget those. There were also the times where you knew he was human. Usually after those incidents, he would say, "Don't tell your mother about this".

Later on, he developed cancer and I could see the tides turning. My brothers and I were now taking care of him. During that time, he still kept his sense of humor although you could barely understand him with his mumbling, but he would always crack jokes and always talked with his eyes. Either flirting with the nurses or rolling his eyes - there was always humor behind them.

August 1, 2006 at 3:57 AM, my dad died. You will be missed, Pop.

Wooo! Tripping the Light Fantastic!

2006-07-10T18:24:00.000-07:00

I just love that phrase! "Trip the light fantastic." Had to throw it in here because I really do need to use it more often. Although this entry has nothing to do with it, but it really wants me to want to.

But what I would like to tell you about was my last Saturday. So. Friday night I am just packing my boxes minding my own for my big move, and I decide I have enough of that and head to a bar for some libations. Well, let me tell you friend, I actually had 2 bottles of libations while I was packing my boxes. I just needed to get out for some fresh air. So I head to Hatties to chat it up with the waitresses that know me oh so well.

Next think you know, my friend Hat (I will use inanimate objects for naming today), calls me up and asks me what I am up to. I tell him and he eventually trods over to where I am at but with his new friend - who will be known as Glove. Well, I think Hat and Glove are dating now and they ask me to do something with them on Saturday. I say sure, then they tell me that Glove's friend, Book, is actually showing up. Alright, no problem.

The following day, Hat and Glove pick me up around noon, we then pick up Book and head for Agua Verde Mexican restaurant. When we arrive, the restaurant indoors is closed down and it is take out food only. Also, take out beer and margaritas. We grab our food and margaritas and head around back towards the canal and drink and eat. After a few margaritas and much beer, we finally head to our destination of canoeing. On the way, we pick up some limes and 3 six packs of beer. Book and I grab a canoe, the beer and limes. Hat and Glove are in another. Now, I think Hat and Glove got Book and I together for their entertainment.

Hat and Glove are fairly in shape living a healthy lifestyle, while Book and I are ... well..... not so healthy living. After we paddle across the canal, Book and I crack our beers, light up our cigarettes, pull out the beef jerky and enjoy the relaxing day that will shine upon us. We constantly hear Hat and Glove laughing at us, since we are paddling with beer and oar in one hand and in the other our cigarette while chewing on the beef jerky hangin out of our mouth. Hat and Glove told us later they secretly visioned this the night before. Damn them! It was planned from the beginning.

All in all Book and I had an excellent time. She is a chatty bird. We had great conversation while paddling throughout the UW Arboretum. We spoke of the great crazy authors: Bukowski, Thompson and Dorsey among others. I even found out that Book is a diver. It was a beautiful day and everything was all in the right.

Writer's thought: "whew, this is longer than I imagined it would be"

Anyhoo, I can go on and on about the water sports we had. But I won't. We finally head out to let "The Dog Who Pees a Lot" out of Glove's house. Here, Hat and I had a little incident with the dog that involved us washing our mouths out and sterilizing with Tequila.

After a nice dinner, a crazy buzz and a slushie in hand the night ends. I will close for now. Since I think I am dragging this out wayyy too much.

Until then..... You know what to do.

Milestone: The Turning of a Leaf....

2006-06-28T19:29:00.000-07:00

Rushing out of my apartment for work this morning, I stumble across a packet that was lying at the doorstep. I stop and pick it up. I shake it. Jingling.

Yes. I just recieved the keys to my new place. After two grueling weeks of waiting for escrow I am an official homeowner. Now the fun begins. I have pulled together two teams for the next month or so. 1st team: moving guys. Although I am 3/4 packed up here, I believe the move should take less than 2 hours - but I won't count on it. 2nd Team - Interior decorators. I have a seamstress for the curtains, the Tommy Bahama marketing director giving me free reign of the home furnishings catalogue, with these two I will also have color assistance for the whole place, a molding person for the minor remodel and a pair of dry wallers for just in case... It will be a fun month. Not to mention, I also get to take inventory and go shopping for new furnishings!

So in fair warning, some of the images posted in this blog might not show up due to my server being moved. I have started a new Flickr account and slowly am migrating images towards that. It's a slow process.

As for now though, I will try and write you guys as soon as possible but for now I have a gaggle of keys in my pocket, trying different doors and I will be exploring the new neighborhood. Ohh.. the new mis-adventures I will have.

Until then, enjoy!

Summer Has Come and Where Are My Pants?

2006-06-18T22:36:00.000-07:00

Once again, Summer Solstice is here again. A time for sunshine, celebration, biking and naked people all over the street! Yes, Freemont had its annual Summer Solstice Parade and for the first time, I actually was at the start of it instead of passed out on the floor in my flat.

I wake up early on Saturday and grab my bike and head to Ballard to meet with my friend. Little do I know, I have a slow-fast leak in my back tire. After multiple stops and maniacal pumping of the back tire we finally arrive at our destination of Freemont. Only to realize in the frenzy of leaving my apartment - I forgot to bring my bike lock for Pepe my trust worthy bike.

On a whim, I decide to just prop up my bike against a chain link fence hoping for the best of people not to steal my bike. We then leave our steeds and search for a good view of the parade we are about to encounter. The streets are covered with meandering people with the mix of children running aloof with chalk in their hands drawing colorful pictures all along the closed off street.

We pass the George and Dragon Pub where there is a massive horde of people watching the USA vs. Italy soccer game and there is much cheering and joyousness.

We finally find a place to stand and watch the start of the parade. First the 200+ nude bicyclist stride out all in a fury riding in circles and flaunting what they have got. Then the parade master comes by on stilts and starts off the carnival of floats. It was very nice outside, after a few floats we decide to head to a bar and try to grab seats before any of the masses overcome each bar.

We end up at Dad Watsons on the balcony and the drinking begins. During this time, I go out front to smoke a cigarette and I get Tea-bagged. No, you dirty little monkies - I get a tea bag stamp on my wrist. I thought it was a brilliant idea. After much vodka and food 4 hours later, there happens to be a penthouse party above the bar. We crash it. It was a great view, and there were all kinds of women playing the game. It was a party for the beautiful people. So we steal there beer and grab our bikes and off to the next gathering of friends up the hill a ways.

Retrieving our bikes we head out and finally arrive at our barbecue we intended originally. My friend offers me some tools that I may fix my bike and we eat a nice barbecue along with playing a street match of badminton. Good times and good friends. After a few hours of sweating we decide to leave and call it a night.

On the way back to Ballard, we decide on a whim to have a night cap at the local tavern - The Lock and Keel. More drinking insues and next thing you know - the bartendar is riding away with my bike! Laughing all the way down the street. After his little jaunt he finally returns and give me a free drink. If you ever go to the Lock and Keel, harrass Mike for me will ya?

Then off to Hatties Hat where we chat with our other bartendar friends and a new gal named Tracy who has these cute dreads. Finally my night ends here. Biking back to my car then safely home I crash on the couch knowing that this will be one of my last drinking adventures. For the time are a changing with me.

Recently I just purchased a condo. Hopefully I will be moved in and living the settled in life. Until then, keep your chins up, enjoy the sun, and experience your life to the fullest!

Isle de Utila & Roatan Honduras

2006-05-21T15:54:00.000-07:00

After a week of editing videos, a nasty ear infection and my body finally normalized from the travel and the SCUBA diving, I now can update this little bloggy thingy of mine.

Lets start off with my vacation - Isle de Utila, Honduras. A week had passed since the the Whistler skiing trip and I finally jumped on the plane on Friday midnight with my dive group of thirteen. 4 hours to Housten Texas, only to find out they are having Tornados touching down throughout the airfield. We circle for 2 hours, when suddenly the pilot announces that we are almost out of gas. Quick trip to Austin Texas. After filling we stay on the tarmac for 2 more hours before we get the okay to head to Housten.

Missing our flight to San Pedro, Honduras - we take a little side vacation at the airport Marriot. This was relaxing, just sitting by poolside and meeting new friends in the Marriot Hotel bar. This whole night has a story of its own which I will not go into at this time. Great surf and turf meal, too!

Next morning, we finally jump on the plane and head out to San Pedro. Since we missed our flight the prior day, we were informed that our small little island flight does not fly on Sunday(which is the day we are at now), and our travel agency arranged a private flight to the island. It took some finagling, but after a island hop and a small sweaty aircraft we finally arrive at the bustling Utilan airport. Mind you, this is not any ordinary airport - but grand airport consisting of four poles and a corrugated metal roof.

Eleven of our group jump in the back of a truck fixed with wooden stools, and two of us, including me, had to stand on the bumper of our luggage truck. Holding on for dear life and ducking from the occasional power line whipping by - we arrive at our destination. The Utila Aggressor. A 100 foot yacht with 14 cabins, 3 decks, bar, jacuzzi, entertainment area and SCUBA area.

From here on out, it was simply amazing. A true vacation. As soon as we boarded the ship, all it was was eating, diving, sleeping and resting. Our team consisted of 4 police officers, a cancer surgeon, the owner of a car dealership with his friend, 2 IT guys and the wives of two police officers and surgeon. Amazing people all in all.

The diving was unbelievable and clear despite a few mishaps of the ship crew. I wont go into the details of all the dives but you can read this on the ship's Captain log I have archived here.

I will just give some highlights of my trip. We dove a few shipwrecks, and this was my first time for penetration of a wreck. I went into the captains quarters and throughout the holding areas of each freighter ship. I made a personal new deep dive record of 121 feet as I was swimming through some caverns which was totally intense. The walls jutted up at least 100 feet up above me. This whole time I was training for my Masters in SCUBA. All I have left, is just the Rescue Diver certificate before I can go on.

Abe, one of our dive guides was luring some fish out with food and he was struck in the middle of a fish frenzy which a grouper and snapper bit his hands.

After much photos and videos I compiled a little montage of above water and below water. Granted, that Eddy the ship captain took the video footage of underwater. Just click on the play buttons in the middle of the screens to the right to view these. They run around 6-8 minutes.

I really cant put most of into words, so I will let the videos try to explain.

The last day, we did some site seeing throughout Utila where I bought some t-shirts and drank a few Salva Vidas. Due to a generator being out for the island, there was no air conditioning around. Also, since no electricity - there were armed guards weilding AK-47s, M-4 assualt rifles and a plethora of other heavy duty weapons guarding the banks. At this point I got a chance to do some artistic photos of all the small elements of the island. It was very relaxing.

That night, we went out for dinner at the Laguna Resort, an island off of Utila. It was very warm, and we had a great dinner. I played with one of the ship crew, Nestor, a game of pool and we headed back to the ship. While waiting for our water taxi, we spyed 14 Eagle Rays. It was a beautiful site to see as they floated effortlessly beneath the dock.

The next day, we head out towards our faithful airplane and journey homeward back to San Pedro, Housten then Seattle. Another mis-hap happens along the way when we arrive to San Pedro. A local behind me was getting out of the plane, and the airplane door suddenly slams on his head. We race back to prop the door up again and at first he seems to be okay. So we go about our business until I notice that he is leaning on his knees - then removes his baseball cap. Blood pours out onto the tarmac. I yell, "MEDICO!" Something I have never seen before, but just heard about begins to happen. The surgeon in our group all of a sudden says, "Stand back! I am doctor!" and immediately assist the man. Within 5 minutes, the Honduran medical staff appear and have the man within the airport tending his needs. It was quite a site to see.

The rest of the trip was un-eventful until I got home in Seattle, where I attended a house party that night and polishing off 6 bottles of vodka with my friends. This actually helped my sea legs quite a bit.

The weeks following ended up with an ear infection and tons of anti-biotics to cure this. Which leaves me here. Finally healed and willing to type all of this for you guys.

I will end it at this point and as usual. Live life to the most and be happy for Pepe's Sake!

Another stretch of debauchery

2006-04-18T22:35:00.000-07:00

Once again, I have been lacking on the updates of this blog. So, It will be a lengthy one.

Hmm.. where did I leave you last? Oh, I remember. It was a cool breezy mid March night following the craziness of St. Patricks day.

Two weekends after, my compadre and I just went to the regular holes to fill up on the drink of the gods. Not much too interesting, but we did meet our good friends Rachel and Julia for a late night dinner. They ended up paying for some reason - next thing ya know - we owe them a meal. Next morning, we decide to hit the Brazilian churrascaria steakhouse. Oh boy, all you can eat meat. I havent done that in a while. The fillet mignon was outstanding.

The following week rolls by, and we get good and toasty on the Friday night. The next day, we are beckoned by the ladies for a fancy dinner at The Pink Door. I have always heard of this elusive restaurant. In fact, I even found it once while I was lost - never to find it again. Maybe the fact, that there are no signs to this establishment, but its only marking is - yes, you guessed it! a pink door. And that is kind of hard to find considering I am colorblind lush that can't see in the dark anyway.

So I throw on my porkpie hat and coat and get picked up to head to the restaurant. Unaware of what I was to encounter, it turns out that they had a Burlesque show that night. We enter through the back door, only to find the scantly cladded ladies swinging above us. It reminded me of Circus Circus in Vegas, minus the children running around half asleep and in a zombie daze at 4 am trying to hunt down their strung out parent who cant take their eyes off of the one armed bandit. Back to the story, there was a 45 minute wait. We head across the alley way towards Kell's Irish pub and polish off a few drinks, in time for dinner to roll by.

After our meal, where the portions are about as big as a hockey puck (but the presentation was amazing!) and as expensive as a doctors 4th wife's wedding ring - I picked up the bill and now the ladies owe US dinner.

I think we are making this a new dinner thing. But the stakes keep on upping themselves. Which will be scary in a few weeks.

The next day, my cohort and I decide to grab some lunch at the Red Door (I just noticed that there is a trend here). Once again, I make the brilliant idea of saying, "Hey, we have never been to the Tin Hat Tavern before, lets go!" So, the spur of the moment we are racing towards the underbelly of Ballard. The area that has not been ostracized by the up and coming hipsters. Turns out that the bars arent open at noon on a Sunday, but luckily next door at another Irish pub "Molly Maquires" was open.

I will have to admit, I fell in love with Molly Maguires. The moment we walked in, it was a narrow little bar. Old timey wood floors with an impressive back bar. We take a seat and notice in one of the back booths - 3 men with instruments. They all of a sudden start to play little irish folk songs. The 2 violins dancing along with the flute. It reminded me of those stories you hear about bars in the old Irish country, where all the local neighbors kick back and enjoy themselves. Not too loud, but nice enough to enjoy a pint or a game of billiards.

Four hours pass and quite a few pints.... We did the one thing we did not want to happend on a Sunday afternoon - get drunk. With our minds fuzzy and our heads full of happy little leprechauns dancing we decided to mosey towards our original destination - The Tin Hat.

Now, you have to give kudos to a bar when the female bartendar is reading her subscription of Playboy behind the bar and passing it around to the patrons. Turns out we have friends in common from way back when I used to sling drinks back at the Art Bar. It was the place where local addicts and artists discussed theories and philosophy.

After much discussion of Bukowski, Tolstoy and Dostoyevsky along with much drinking, we decide to part with our new friends and cook up a great steak! After getting lost in the Safeway, then safely making it home, Rachel appears for the grilling and we all settle in to watch a movie.

The following Thursday, I meet with my future SCUBA team at the Dive Directors house, for our briefing for Honduras. I am the youngest tyke in that group. I have a good feeling I will have a hell of a time.

This catches us up to last weekend. Old drinky boy and I, planned a trip to Whistler for the Telus Ski/Snowbard festival. It was simply amazing. This time around though, we thought to not over do it like we usually do for Thanksgiving. No fancy meals, keep the drinking on the down low and just ski. Well, we accomplished only one of those goals - no fancy meals.

Why is it that people always associate skiing with drinking and partying? Well, we associated like there was no tomorrow. We found a new spot to hang out, albeit, the waitress kept on hitting me - it was a fun time. The snow was simply amazing for April. Nightclub after nightclub and not to mention the skiing. After much footage of skiing and pain we ended up with some good video. Well, enough to make small video which I bring to you, my fellow readers. Just click on the play button in the small little screen and you can see my masterpiece. Only took me an hour to make. As for the last Whistler entry, what happens in Whistler will never leave. But some quick highlights for you:

I feel so sorry for the maid
What happend to my lovely Dawn?
Why does everyone in here look like Ricky Martin
The maid just gave me the evilest look?!?
Is this Neil Sedaka?
At least there wasnt blood this time
Really? Monday is going to be Swedish Bikini Skiing? damn.
...and gotta love those boneless pork niblets

It is quite late, while I write this. I must get sleep to try and fix this cold I am harvesting. As for the next few weeks, a lot is happening. I have my massage to work out the kinks and I have to get ready for Honduras. So, I am keeping low on the radar this week - except maybe for a nice dinner with the ladies.

Until then, LIVE!