Hello, peeps. Yes, I've been actually having a life and not blogging about one. Lynn and I have been in a serious state of canoodling for the past week. Yes, a week. About 1/3 of the time of our last romantic encounter. And I must say it is probably the happiest I can remember being. We have been inseparable. Doing everything together - including showering. And the sex is amazing. OK, this is probably TMI and will gross you out, but I so love the taste of a woman. Heidi was fun. But she was very conservative when in comes to sex. Her idea of getting wild was doing it with a candle lit. Nothing but the missionary position for her. And seriously - nothing oral, at all. She said she didn't like it. I told her that was probably because she never had it done well. She agreed, but was never adventurous enough to try it with me. I really missed it. Lynn is - well - amazing and adventurous and - wow.
Tonight we parted, briefly, so I could go home - wash clothes and get another weeks worth. Later (after the last dryer load) I'll be headed back to her apartment in Los Gatos.
I have the key to her apartment again.
Maybe I'll get a drawer or two.
Sigh. (of contentment)
I did go paddling with paddle girl on Sunday morning. This was the only time I paddled in the last week. And I simply cannot keep up with her if I don't some extra mileage in during the week. Need to do something about that.
Anyway, she asked about my love life and I gave her the reader's digest version as we shared a thermos of french roast on the dock after our paddle. College buddy, to drinking buddy, to bed buddy, to cheating bitch, back to bed buddy again (new readers, go read here, here, and here, that's the gist of it).
"Do you trust her?" she asked
"Naw." I replied. "But I lover her."
"She's a lucky girl." She shook her head, "Men are weird."
Monday, December 7
Monday, November 30
Moth to a flame
I think we all knew this post was inevitable. Yup. I did it.
Wrong. So absolutely wrong. I did it anyway.
Here’s the thing. I wanted it. I really wanted it. I know my friend Kristen said that I should be able to stay away for myself. But that assumes that I want to stay away. I don’t. I so f-ing love her. I always wonder why girls go back to the bad boys. Why do I go running back to the bad girl?
Why does the moth fly into the flame?
You know, I do a lot of things that are bad for me. I eat fatty foods. I mean really fatty food – I eat hollandaise sauce. Which is really just egg yolks and butter whipped up together. These are two of the worst foods on the planet for folks who might develop heart disease. Guess what? I’m an American, in all likelihood going to die of heart disease. I love steak sandwiches slathered with mayonnaise. I love eggs benedict. I drink. I drink a lot. I like the way that alcohol makes me feel. I think nothing of sitting down and drinking a bottle of wine – at one sitting. No point in dying of that heart attack and having a pristine liver.
If it feels good, do it. I’ve made peace with the fact that this philosophy will probably shorten my life substantially. And it will result in hangovers, and all manner of other problems. So be it. Maybe one day I will regret this. But for now, I’m being true to myself.
It was Sunday. I was still recovering from a day on the water with paddle girl - so I wasn't up for any outdoor activity. I had read and re-read all the blogs I follow. Check all manner of e-mail accounts – nothing new here. I was bored. No, I knew what I was thinking. I was alone. She was alone – well I presumed she was alone. Maybe she’s banging her neighbor, or another co-worker. Who knows. I wanted to know. I was so hoping that she was alone.
When I could no longer stand it, I called her.
“Hey” she said answering the phone “it’s been a while.”
“How you doing?”
“Not that bad. You?”
“I’m hungry again.” She knew that that meant.
“Good for you. I knew you’d get there.”
I’m glad you had faith that I wasn’t broken for life. I wasn’t so sure. I didn’t know what to say next.
“Are you OK?” she asked.
“Yeah, I just… I’m…” I sighed. Here goes. Hold on heart. Here we go again. “I’d really like to see you.”
“I’d like to see you, too.” was that a sob I heard on the other end of the phone?
There it was again. Yes, it was a sob. Of shame? Joy? Elation? Remorse? Sorrow? Who knows.
“Come over. I’m home. Whenever you’d like.”
“I’ll be there soon.” I hung up.
I took my car (not the truck) and drove down to Los Gatos. I’m sure that I was speeding all the way. As I pulled into the parking lot of her apartment building, I saw her standing in the parking lot. I pulled into one of the visitor parking spaces and she walked up to the car on the driver’s side. I got out and she hugged me tight. We kissed. She started to cry. (I’m just going to assume that these are tears of joy). I cried, too. We stood there in the parking lot for what seemed forever. She pulled back, put her hands on my cheeks, looked me in the eyes, and said “I love you, Rich.” She kissed me again. “I’ve always loved you.” This was like the end of Slumdog millionaire – but without the Indian music and the dancing. You know what I mean.
We hurried to her apartment and stumbled in the door. We hastily undressed each other – leaving a trail of clothes from the door to the bedroom. She was wearing that blue camisole that I just love. I stopped momentarily to admire it.
We made the maddest, most passionate love ever. Twice.
We collapsed into each others arms and I drifted blissfully off to sleep.
Wrong. So absolutely wrong. I did it anyway.
Here’s the thing. I wanted it. I really wanted it. I know my friend Kristen said that I should be able to stay away for myself. But that assumes that I want to stay away. I don’t. I so f-ing love her. I always wonder why girls go back to the bad boys. Why do I go running back to the bad girl?
Why does the moth fly into the flame?
You know, I do a lot of things that are bad for me. I eat fatty foods. I mean really fatty food – I eat hollandaise sauce. Which is really just egg yolks and butter whipped up together. These are two of the worst foods on the planet for folks who might develop heart disease. Guess what? I’m an American, in all likelihood going to die of heart disease. I love steak sandwiches slathered with mayonnaise. I love eggs benedict. I drink. I drink a lot. I like the way that alcohol makes me feel. I think nothing of sitting down and drinking a bottle of wine – at one sitting. No point in dying of that heart attack and having a pristine liver.
If it feels good, do it. I’ve made peace with the fact that this philosophy will probably shorten my life substantially. And it will result in hangovers, and all manner of other problems. So be it. Maybe one day I will regret this. But for now, I’m being true to myself.
It was Sunday. I was still recovering from a day on the water with paddle girl - so I wasn't up for any outdoor activity. I had read and re-read all the blogs I follow. Check all manner of e-mail accounts – nothing new here. I was bored. No, I knew what I was thinking. I was alone. She was alone – well I presumed she was alone. Maybe she’s banging her neighbor, or another co-worker. Who knows. I wanted to know. I was so hoping that she was alone.
When I could no longer stand it, I called her.
“Hey” she said answering the phone “it’s been a while.”
“How you doing?”
“Not that bad. You?”
“I’m hungry again.” She knew that that meant.
“Good for you. I knew you’d get there.”
I’m glad you had faith that I wasn’t broken for life. I wasn’t so sure. I didn’t know what to say next.
“Are you OK?” she asked.
“Yeah, I just… I’m…” I sighed. Here goes. Hold on heart. Here we go again. “I’d really like to see you.”
“I’d like to see you, too.” was that a sob I heard on the other end of the phone?
There it was again. Yes, it was a sob. Of shame? Joy? Elation? Remorse? Sorrow? Who knows.
“Come over. I’m home. Whenever you’d like.”
“I’ll be there soon.” I hung up.
I took my car (not the truck) and drove down to Los Gatos. I’m sure that I was speeding all the way. As I pulled into the parking lot of her apartment building, I saw her standing in the parking lot. I pulled into one of the visitor parking spaces and she walked up to the car on the driver’s side. I got out and she hugged me tight. We kissed. She started to cry. (I’m just going to assume that these are tears of joy). I cried, too. We stood there in the parking lot for what seemed forever. She pulled back, put her hands on my cheeks, looked me in the eyes, and said “I love you, Rich.” She kissed me again. “I’ve always loved you.” This was like the end of Slumdog millionaire – but without the Indian music and the dancing. You know what I mean.
We hurried to her apartment and stumbled in the door. We hastily undressed each other – leaving a trail of clothes from the door to the bedroom. She was wearing that blue camisole that I just love. I stopped momentarily to admire it.
We made the maddest, most passionate love ever. Twice.
We collapsed into each others arms and I drifted blissfully off to sleep.
Sunday, November 29
Your butt is steaming
That's what paddle girl said to me as I got out of my boat on Saturday morning. I usually wear wet-suit pants with a dry-top. But unable to remove the funk from the wet suit, I opted for a better smelling fleece pair of pants. Paddle girl makes me work pretty hard - and I work up a good sweat (hence the funk). My fleece pants were drenched with sweat (sorry if that's TMI) and it was probably 45 degrees out. And it was a funny sentiment.
She then invited me out for breakfast. I agreed to go if she let me use the shower at her house first. Her car is in the shop, so we loaded up the boats onto my truck and headed back to her house. She lives a couple minutes from where we were paddling. I took a shower and changed into fresh smelling clothes. Then she cleaned up. She lives in a 2 bedroom house with 1 small bathroom. She shares it with 3 other girls. She has 4 boats in her garage - including a surf-ski and an olympic racing boat. Cool.
We headed out to a local eatery near campus that caters to college students. While we were waiting for our food, and lingering over coffee, she put her hand on mine. OK, I've been dodging this for a while. Looks like I need to take it head-on.
"Um, I think you're really great, but, I'm not at a point where I can get involved with you." I pulled my hand out from under hers. She looked hurt, and surprised.
"The guys from the paddle club. They talked to you."
"Uh, yeah, they did."
"Bastards. I wish they'd mind their own business. They can't tell me who I can date."
"Before you blame them - first, they didn't tell me not to date you. They told me not to hurt you. There's a pretty big difference. I think they really care about you. At least they mean well."
She shook her head, "Yeah, I guess."
"Even if they didn't talk to me, I couldn't get involved with you, not now."
"Why?"
I might as well come clean. "I'm in love."
"I thought big boobs was gone?"
"No not her."
"Runaway bride?"
I laughed - "Shit, this is complicated. The girl that broke my heart."
"Are you with her?"
"No. But... I don't know. I'm not over her. It wouldn't be fair to you."
She narrowed her eyes. "What? You're going to pass on relationships until you're over her? What about Big Boobs?"
"Big boobs was a bad idea. And I know, it sounds stupid - especially when I'm talking to someone as cute as you. Give me some time. We can paddle together. You'll find some young college stud..."
"You mean immature, poor, boys?"
I laughed. I remember being so unhappy about Lynn being involved with inappropriately older men. Now, that I'm older and wiser, I can see some merit to the arrangement.
She then invited me out for breakfast. I agreed to go if she let me use the shower at her house first. Her car is in the shop, so we loaded up the boats onto my truck and headed back to her house. She lives a couple minutes from where we were paddling. I took a shower and changed into fresh smelling clothes. Then she cleaned up. She lives in a 2 bedroom house with 1 small bathroom. She shares it with 3 other girls. She has 4 boats in her garage - including a surf-ski and an olympic racing boat. Cool.
We headed out to a local eatery near campus that caters to college students. While we were waiting for our food, and lingering over coffee, she put her hand on mine. OK, I've been dodging this for a while. Looks like I need to take it head-on.
"Um, I think you're really great, but, I'm not at a point where I can get involved with you." I pulled my hand out from under hers. She looked hurt, and surprised.
"The guys from the paddle club. They talked to you."
"Uh, yeah, they did."
"Bastards. I wish they'd mind their own business. They can't tell me who I can date."
"Before you blame them - first, they didn't tell me not to date you. They told me not to hurt you. There's a pretty big difference. I think they really care about you. At least they mean well."
She shook her head, "Yeah, I guess."
"Even if they didn't talk to me, I couldn't get involved with you, not now."
"Why?"
I might as well come clean. "I'm in love."
"I thought big boobs was gone?"
"No not her."
"Runaway bride?"
I laughed - "Shit, this is complicated. The girl that broke my heart."
"Are you with her?"
"No. But... I don't know. I'm not over her. It wouldn't be fair to you."
She narrowed her eyes. "What? You're going to pass on relationships until you're over her? What about Big Boobs?"
"Big boobs was a bad idea. And I know, it sounds stupid - especially when I'm talking to someone as cute as you. Give me some time. We can paddle together. You'll find some young college stud..."
"You mean immature, poor, boys?"
I laughed. I remember being so unhappy about Lynn being involved with inappropriately older men. Now, that I'm older and wiser, I can see some merit to the arrangement.
Friday, November 27
Give me all your fries
Today I took paddle-girl on our "date" to the paddle club pot luck. I brought a bunch of my turkey rollups in gravy. These were a resounding success, though I did take a bit of good natured ribbing about them not being proper beach food. It was not a great day for a beach party. The temperature never got much over 50 and it was overcast and threatening to rain, fortunately it didn't.
I picked her up in my car at about 10 in the morning. I had the top down, and the windows up with the heater on. She was waiting for me outside of her house. "This is your car?" she asked, with a bit of disbelief.
"Uh, yeah. I can't haul the boats around on it so it's not really practical - but it's really nice. You want the top up?"
"Naw, keep it down. Wow this thing is great." I had pre-warmed the passenger seat with the seat heater. She got in. "Oh, wow - heated seats. I love this. I thought you were poor. You drive that crappy truck and have a cheap boat. I bet you get a lot a girls with this car."
You know, it's weird. I never thought that girls would pay any attention to cars - I always thought it was a guy thing. But girls really do notice this ride. If I had any idea that driving an expensive car would actually be a chick magnet I would have bought one sooner.
Anyway, paddle girl was bringing jojos (fried potato wedges) as her dish to the potluck, and asked me to stop at the local Safeway to pick them up. We went to the deli counter. She told the guy behind the counter "Gimme all your fries." There must have been 4 pounds of them. We took them on a deli tray with a couple of fist fulls of ketchup packets.
"I though this was supposed to be leftovers?" I asked her "What's you do for Thanksgiving?"
"Cheeseburger." She shrugged.
"Not even a turkey sandwich?"
"Naw, just me and my roomates. We need the time to study, not cook." I had long ago forgotten the pressures of carrying a full load of classes.
We arrived at the potluck just as food tables were being set up. The beauty of this arrangement was soon obvious. There are a bunch of club members who are older and do to whole thanksgiving thing, and have a ton of left overs. And there are bunch who are college athletes, with no money and voratious appetites. The kids get fed and the older folks don't need to eat turkey casserole for a week. Win-win.
Maurizio showed up fashionably late, bringing a couple of cases of beer in a cooler. He put the cooler next to the food table, extracted 2 beers from it and made a bee line for Brad. Looks like the two of them will be a couple, if Maurizio has his way.
Debbie sat down with paddle girl and me and proceeded to gossip about folks that she worked with and folks in the paddle club. She quite acted like she was talking with a couple of the girls, which I found amusing. But paddle girl seemed to be annoyed.
Even though this was not a paddling event, some of the guys brought surf boats and were out playing in the waves after lunch.
The event lasted well into the late afternoon. Paddle girl and I headed out about 4 in the afternoon, as the sky began to darken. She was uncharacteristically quiet as we were headed towards Santa Cruz. She is usually quite cheerful. I though something might be wrong.
"Can I ask you a personal question?"
Whoops, I thought. During the day there had been nothing "date" like at all about aour outing. While I am truely flattered that a 20 something college girl might be interested in me - a romantic relationship with her is not what I want. "Sure" I replied to her query.
"Are you gay?"
I tried really hard not to laugh - and almost succeeded. She had been talking with Debbie.
"I mean, you told me about big boobs, and your runaway bride - but, I mean you could have been talking about guys."
"Do I seem gay to you?"
"Well, no, but you can't always tell."
"Good point. No, I'm not gay. I've always had a real weakness for women. My buddy Maurizio, however, has always had a weakess for men. Anyway, at the club meeting last week Debbie started talking to me to find out about Maurizio. Sometimes I'll let girls think he's straight - for the occasional humorous outcomes, but I told her he was gay. She just assumed that since I was with him I was gay, too. That it rubs off somehow. I never corrected her."
"Oh, good." She seemed quite relieved at this. "Hey, you want to pull a dawn patrol tomorrow?" I need to get some more hours on the water.
Oh, no. I really don't want to get up that early. "Can we make it morning patrol?"
"Sure. 8:00?"
Much better. "OK."
"My car's still being worked on. Can you pick up me and my boat?"
I do need to keep from getting entangled with this girl.
I picked her up in my car at about 10 in the morning. I had the top down, and the windows up with the heater on. She was waiting for me outside of her house. "This is your car?" she asked, with a bit of disbelief.
"Uh, yeah. I can't haul the boats around on it so it's not really practical - but it's really nice. You want the top up?"
"Naw, keep it down. Wow this thing is great." I had pre-warmed the passenger seat with the seat heater. She got in. "Oh, wow - heated seats. I love this. I thought you were poor. You drive that crappy truck and have a cheap boat. I bet you get a lot a girls with this car."
You know, it's weird. I never thought that girls would pay any attention to cars - I always thought it was a guy thing. But girls really do notice this ride. If I had any idea that driving an expensive car would actually be a chick magnet I would have bought one sooner.
Anyway, paddle girl was bringing jojos (fried potato wedges) as her dish to the potluck, and asked me to stop at the local Safeway to pick them up. We went to the deli counter. She told the guy behind the counter "Gimme all your fries." There must have been 4 pounds of them. We took them on a deli tray with a couple of fist fulls of ketchup packets.
"I though this was supposed to be leftovers?" I asked her "What's you do for Thanksgiving?"
"Cheeseburger." She shrugged.
"Not even a turkey sandwich?"
"Naw, just me and my roomates. We need the time to study, not cook." I had long ago forgotten the pressures of carrying a full load of classes.
We arrived at the potluck just as food tables were being set up. The beauty of this arrangement was soon obvious. There are a bunch of club members who are older and do to whole thanksgiving thing, and have a ton of left overs. And there are bunch who are college athletes, with no money and voratious appetites. The kids get fed and the older folks don't need to eat turkey casserole for a week. Win-win.
Maurizio showed up fashionably late, bringing a couple of cases of beer in a cooler. He put the cooler next to the food table, extracted 2 beers from it and made a bee line for Brad. Looks like the two of them will be a couple, if Maurizio has his way.
Debbie sat down with paddle girl and me and proceeded to gossip about folks that she worked with and folks in the paddle club. She quite acted like she was talking with a couple of the girls, which I found amusing. But paddle girl seemed to be annoyed.
Even though this was not a paddling event, some of the guys brought surf boats and were out playing in the waves after lunch.
The event lasted well into the late afternoon. Paddle girl and I headed out about 4 in the afternoon, as the sky began to darken. She was uncharacteristically quiet as we were headed towards Santa Cruz. She is usually quite cheerful. I though something might be wrong.
"Can I ask you a personal question?"
Whoops, I thought. During the day there had been nothing "date" like at all about aour outing. While I am truely flattered that a 20 something college girl might be interested in me - a romantic relationship with her is not what I want. "Sure" I replied to her query.
"Are you gay?"
I tried really hard not to laugh - and almost succeeded. She had been talking with Debbie.
"I mean, you told me about big boobs, and your runaway bride - but, I mean you could have been talking about guys."
"Do I seem gay to you?"
"Well, no, but you can't always tell."
"Good point. No, I'm not gay. I've always had a real weakness for women. My buddy Maurizio, however, has always had a weakess for men. Anyway, at the club meeting last week Debbie started talking to me to find out about Maurizio. Sometimes I'll let girls think he's straight - for the occasional humorous outcomes, but I told her he was gay. She just assumed that since I was with him I was gay, too. That it rubs off somehow. I never corrected her."
"Oh, good." She seemed quite relieved at this. "Hey, you want to pull a dawn patrol tomorrow?" I need to get some more hours on the water.
Oh, no. I really don't want to get up that early. "Can we make it morning patrol?"
"Sure. 8:00?"
Much better. "OK."
"My car's still being worked on. Can you pick up me and my boat?"
I do need to keep from getting entangled with this girl.
Tuesday, November 24
Stuffed Turkey Breast
I love roasted turkey. I hate leftovers. After 2 days - turkey goes bad (at least as far as my palate is concerned). So Thanksgiving is a dilemma. Usually I go over to someone else's house. Last year it was a visit to Liz and Tom's. (I just re-read that blog entry - wow has my life changed in the past year.) This year - probably since I'm not hanging out with Lynn - I was not invited to the usual festivities. That sucks.
Anyway Thanksgiving dinner is just me and Jason here at the house. So this year I decided to try these turkey roll-ups - so as not to have gobs and gobs of food that gets thrown out. But still get that great taste of roasted turkey and stuffing.
a 2 pound turkey breast
2 cups fine bread crumbs
2 tablespoon minced onion
3 tablespoon minced celery
1 tablespoon minced fresh sage leaves
1 1/2 teaspoons minced fresh thyme leaves
5 tablespoons melted butter
1/2 cup cream
salt and freshly ground pepper
For the bread crumbs I usually take some stale french or italian bread and run it through the blender. You can use stuffing croutons (but then go light on the sage) but you'll need to crush them for this application.
You can do any of the usual stuffing variations here - add bacon, sausage, use cornbread crumbs, whatever you like. But you need to keep a fairly fine texture.
Some folks don't like celery - you can substitute all onions or add some carrots.
Anyway, just mix all the ingredients up in a bowl. It should form a kind of paste - if it's dry and crumbly you should add an egg yolk or more cream.
Take a turkey breast and slice it into 1/2" to 3/4" thick steaks against the grain. Pound them out to 1/4" to 3/8" thickness. You're looking to make them about 6 or 7 inches long and about 4 or 5 inches wide.
Salt and pepper to taste. Spread on a thin layer of the stuffing - about 1/8" thick and roll it up. Tie with butcher's string.
Brown well in a skillet (not a non stick one - you can't brown it well, and then you can't make a good gravy) then place in an oven proof dish and bake in a 350 degree oven for 20 to 30 minutes until the internal temperature reaches 160.
Use the pan drippings to make a gravy. Serve with mashed potatoes.
Thanksgiving without the leftovers!
Anyway Thanksgiving dinner is just me and Jason here at the house. So this year I decided to try these turkey roll-ups - so as not to have gobs and gobs of food that gets thrown out. But still get that great taste of roasted turkey and stuffing.
a 2 pound turkey breast
2 cups fine bread crumbs
2 tablespoon minced onion
3 tablespoon minced celery
1 tablespoon minced fresh sage leaves
1 1/2 teaspoons minced fresh thyme leaves
5 tablespoons melted butter
1/2 cup cream
salt and freshly ground pepper
For the bread crumbs I usually take some stale french or italian bread and run it through the blender. You can use stuffing croutons (but then go light on the sage) but you'll need to crush them for this application.
You can do any of the usual stuffing variations here - add bacon, sausage, use cornbread crumbs, whatever you like. But you need to keep a fairly fine texture.
Some folks don't like celery - you can substitute all onions or add some carrots.
Anyway, just mix all the ingredients up in a bowl. It should form a kind of paste - if it's dry and crumbly you should add an egg yolk or more cream.
Take a turkey breast and slice it into 1/2" to 3/4" thick steaks against the grain. Pound them out to 1/4" to 3/8" thickness. You're looking to make them about 6 or 7 inches long and about 4 or 5 inches wide.
Salt and pepper to taste. Spread on a thin layer of the stuffing - about 1/8" thick and roll it up. Tie with butcher's string.
Brown well in a skillet (not a non stick one - you can't brown it well, and then you can't make a good gravy) then place in an oven proof dish and bake in a 350 degree oven for 20 to 30 minutes until the internal temperature reaches 160.
Use the pan drippings to make a gravy. Serve with mashed potatoes.
Thanksgiving without the leftovers!
Monday, November 23
Ouch
Every... muscle... in... my... body... hurts...
Every single one. It hurts to type. It has been 3 weeks since I was out paddling. It's amazing how much strength and stamina you can lose when you stop exercising. Even for just a couple of weeks.
I've been sleeping in gloriously late in the mornings. Typical wakeup time last week was about 10 a.m. Getting into the office at around 11 - like most of the other engineers. It is so nice. But since I'm sleeping better than I have in ages, there's no time to paddle. And no anger driving the paddling.
But Sunday, I had agreed with paddle-girl to go on our morning paddle, which is at 5:30 a.m. in Santa Cruz. She calls it "dawn patrol". At that hour the sky is just starting to let through some daylight. We're usually on the water by 6. We can see where we are going, but just barely. We do wear strobes on our pfds so the occasional early morning fisherman can see us (and I can see her when she gets too far ahead of me).
Paddle-girl says she took it easy on me - but I was completely dead by the time we were done with a 90 minute work out. I needed her help to pull my 58 pound boat out of the water.
After I slightly recovered she suggested going for coffee.
Gasping for breath I waved at my clothes "I don't think I can go out in polite society like this."
"There's a place up the road with outdoor tables - you're fine."
Trust me, I've got a lot of funk in my wetsuit. I'm not fine. "Sure." I said.
After we loaded the boats onto our respective vehicles I stripped down to my briefs and hosed myself off on the dock and changed into some spare clothes I had in the truck. I think it helped. And paddle-girl laughed at me while I took a very cold hose shower.
We drove up to the coffee shop and ordered some lattes and muffins and sat outside. It was pretty cold - so we had the outdoor seating to ourselves.
"You look more relaxed than usual. Did you make up with 'big-boobs'?"
"Nope. I haven't heard from Heidi since before I went to on my trip."
"Got a replacement for her?"
Umm, why do you ask? I'm starting to wonder if paddle-girl has designs on me. "Nope, my therapist says I shouldn't be sleeping around."
"You're in therapy?" she seemed slightly alarmed.
"Uh, no, bad joke. I kinda had a bad break-up, and Heidi was the 'rebound-girl' I'm ashamed to say."
"Why are you ashamed to say that? I would think that someone with big boobs would make a good rebound girl."
I laughed. I'm hoping she was joking. "I think I hurt her - and I don't feel good about that. Heidi was really fun, but I couldn't give her what she needed."
"Wow, a guy with a concience." She took a long sip of coffee - she seemed to need to think about this. "Hey, are you going to the 'left-over' potluck on friday?"
"Yeah."
"Can you give me a ride? I'm having this guy do the brakes on my car over the weekend."
"Sure, I can drive you."
"Great, it's a date, then."
Every single one. It hurts to type. It has been 3 weeks since I was out paddling. It's amazing how much strength and stamina you can lose when you stop exercising. Even for just a couple of weeks.
I've been sleeping in gloriously late in the mornings. Typical wakeup time last week was about 10 a.m. Getting into the office at around 11 - like most of the other engineers. It is so nice. But since I'm sleeping better than I have in ages, there's no time to paddle. And no anger driving the paddling.
But Sunday, I had agreed with paddle-girl to go on our morning paddle, which is at 5:30 a.m. in Santa Cruz. She calls it "dawn patrol". At that hour the sky is just starting to let through some daylight. We're usually on the water by 6. We can see where we are going, but just barely. We do wear strobes on our pfds so the occasional early morning fisherman can see us (and I can see her when she gets too far ahead of me).
Paddle-girl says she took it easy on me - but I was completely dead by the time we were done with a 90 minute work out. I needed her help to pull my 58 pound boat out of the water.
After I slightly recovered she suggested going for coffee.
Gasping for breath I waved at my clothes "I don't think I can go out in polite society like this."
"There's a place up the road with outdoor tables - you're fine."
Trust me, I've got a lot of funk in my wetsuit. I'm not fine. "Sure." I said.
After we loaded the boats onto our respective vehicles I stripped down to my briefs and hosed myself off on the dock and changed into some spare clothes I had in the truck. I think it helped. And paddle-girl laughed at me while I took a very cold hose shower.
We drove up to the coffee shop and ordered some lattes and muffins and sat outside. It was pretty cold - so we had the outdoor seating to ourselves.
"You look more relaxed than usual. Did you make up with 'big-boobs'?"
"Nope. I haven't heard from Heidi since before I went to on my trip."
"Got a replacement for her?"
Umm, why do you ask? I'm starting to wonder if paddle-girl has designs on me. "Nope, my therapist says I shouldn't be sleeping around."
"You're in therapy?" she seemed slightly alarmed.
"Uh, no, bad joke. I kinda had a bad break-up, and Heidi was the 'rebound-girl' I'm ashamed to say."
"Why are you ashamed to say that? I would think that someone with big boobs would make a good rebound girl."
I laughed. I'm hoping she was joking. "I think I hurt her - and I don't feel good about that. Heidi was really fun, but I couldn't give her what she needed."
"Wow, a guy with a concience." She took a long sip of coffee - she seemed to need to think about this. "Hey, are you going to the 'left-over' potluck on friday?"
"Yeah."
"Can you give me a ride? I'm having this guy do the brakes on my car over the weekend."
"Sure, I can drive you."
"Great, it's a date, then."
Saturday, November 21
Windsurfing
It's been ages since I have been out windsurfing. When I was looking over my blog I noticed that there was only one entry devoted to windsurfing. That's not enough. So today I grabbed the windsurfer and headed out on the water. I need to find a good windsurfing club. Since I'm not hanging out with Jim anymore, I don't have a windsurfing buddy. And it's dangerous - and stupid - to go out on the water without a buddy looking out for you. But I did it anyway. It was really fun. It was cold and windy today. A good day to be out on the water. I need to wind surf more.
I'll be padding with paddle-girl tomorrow.
I think it will be hard to wake up. I've been sleeping well. And eating well, since Heidi took off. And since Lynn is single again. No more waking up at insane hours of the morning. It's weird. I thought it might have been the jet lag, but I seem to have found peace - for the first time in a long time. It feels so good.
I've been cooking again - for myself. And it's been good. Life is returning to normal.
In a completely unrelated topic, does anyone know how to get the funk out of a wetsuit?
I'll be padding with paddle-girl tomorrow.
I think it will be hard to wake up. I've been sleeping well. And eating well, since Heidi took off. And since Lynn is single again. No more waking up at insane hours of the morning. It's weird. I thought it might have been the jet lag, but I seem to have found peace - for the first time in a long time. It feels so good.
I've been cooking again - for myself. And it's been good. Life is returning to normal.
In a completely unrelated topic, does anyone know how to get the funk out of a wetsuit?
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