Realization

So tonight while drinking a bottle of wine I realize that I have lived my life in reflection.  I have loved, I have been loved more than I have loved, and most of all I have thrown away meaningful relationships because I have not loved myself.  While watching planes land over the Potomac Bay, sipping a glass of fine wine, with my friends dog (Ranger) by my side...I sit again inside my head.  Reflecting over the past and brooding the future.  My mother tells me I live in my head to much, sometimes disregarding reality and the feeling it may hold.  She's right.

I'm in Washington D.C. again, my newest home.  So much over the past few months has gone by in a blur because I have failed to accept this as life.  I'm being forced (am I really though, I have a choice) to move from Europe back to the United States.  What have I been searching for all these years?  I submit that is has been myself.  Even in the throws of love, I have been hesitant to engage and lose myself as many other have done.  Someone, recently, has told me there is a sliding scale of love.  Every time you fall in love it seems deeper or meaningful than the last.  Each time it counts as love, but each new realization is a deeper level of feeling of acceptance of feelings and.....what.  What is it that draws me in to relationships.

I aptly remember a quote from a James Bond film "James, I truly believe you fall in love with each girl your with."  It goes against every preconceived notion of love you grow up believing, but I think it has been true for me.  Have I been spending all these years trying to accept who I am before fully let someone love me for me?  I mean, its almost gratifying everyone you meet loving you and wanting you in their lives.  For instance I just viewed 6 different homes with room shares; each wanting me to be their tenant and friend.  That should count for something right, but in the end it hasn't.  I do realize that I have lived a life that makes people envious.  I have lived a life trying to fulfill a hard to define hole with experience as opposed to love.  There are times I have truly and deeply given myself to others.  In fact, I think most relationships (romantic and not) I give others what they need and want.  Very few people have realized that it is not all I have to give, and challenged me to give more.

What am I searching for?  One of the sweetest quotes I've heard through my life is "home is not a place but a person."  She loved me, the girl that told me that.  She wanted an everlasting life, and children, by me.  I could not submit.  I can't explain why, but I felt there should be more.  I felt there was something fundamentally wrong; and now I realize that was me.  That I was, and might be still be?, incapable of returning the unconditional love that was felt.  I know love, I know its sweet embrace.  I know how much I would love to fall asleep every night holding someone sweet.  Am I ready?  Does anyone ever truly know?  I console myself that my relationships have been culminating to a qualification of what I do and don't want in a life partner.  Many people think that as a gay phrase, but what else could fully describe someone you will spend the happy and worst times that lay ahead in someone?

So the question always remains who am I, what do I want?  I can't answer that yet, and do I really want to know?  I have done unspeakable things in peace and war.  More unspeakable sacrifices lay ahead if I continue to live the life I have deemed as a dream.  Would I really benefit those around me with that life?  I have distanced my family and friends.  I lay at night jealous of those that have submitted/accepted others in their lives to life long commitments.  For what?  For a feeling of individuality; convincing myself its because I won't concede to what lays before me rather what lies ahead.

This next week is going to be dreadful.  I will start if off flying to a home not to be.  The first place I have truly chosen to reside, and due to whatever powers may be was not.  The first day I will meet with a girl I realized much to late I loved;  I tried to deny that feeling with doubt about age difference and feasibility of a future.  The second I will see my boys, that I brought in to this world with blood, sweat, and tears.  I will pick up my dog; the current love of my life.  I will meet with the girl who I had thought previously broke my heart but now realize it was my actions and feelings that cause that heart break.  I will say good bye, will it be temporary?, to each friend I have made in Germany.  Spending the last few days trying to be a father to a boys whom deserve more of me in their lives.

I am off to start a new life, a new chapter in life.  Will it be one that will be like the last, and the one before it?  Will it be more or less fulfilling, will I learn to give myself up to life?  These are questions that constantly flow through my mind; chipping away at the armor I have "felt" I have had to build to keep myself from being hurt as I have hurt myself in the past.  I mean honestly, can I really claim such a bad life?  I have inspired admiration, jealousy, and respect and most people I've meet.  I can get along with the damn devil.  I have reflected nothing but potential and confidence in each of my leaders.  I have had great friends and lovers.  How can I feel empty?  I'll admit I might be prone to feelings of loneliness that have gotten worse as I have matured.  Jebus!  what a proclamation for me, matured.  I have thought of myself as a self accomplished Peter Pan; never having to fully grow up because I've been functional.  I mean I have a Costco card now, and I honestly thought that should count as something.  The truth is I'm scared.  I'm not scared of anything life has to bring me because I have seen and survived through the worst.  I am scared because I....I am scared of myself.  I am scared I will never fully commit.  Commit to someone or something.  I think I have valid reasoning for this concern.

I have ruined/ended every relationship that could have fulfilled a life long relationship.  Wow!  That was a hard statement to write.  I suppose that every person single at this point can admit the same, but it is a hard realization.  Feeling like you have so much to offer there are times you blame the powers that be for being alone.  The truth is that you have to take responsibility in your actions and status in life.  What do I want?!?

I want to lay my head in someones lap, whilst they stroke my hair, and feel truly safe and happy.  I want to engage in conversation and feel challenged.  I want to have lustful nights.  I want to laugh until I cry.  I want to be constantly surprised.  I want to fall asleep every night with a slight smile on my lips.  I don't care where, but I want a feeling of wonder.

Its funny how much emotion you can pour into a handful of paragraphs.  Things that have taken a life time to realize.  Am I ready though for what I want?  That remains ever the question.

Dive, Dive, Dive!!!!

Nina, Maria, Santa Maria?  I'm in a Sub drinking sangria!  Lemonhead, nachos, my Dads sub, if we tip it's cool my (something that rhymes with sub and references penis) can float.  Oh did I mention that I was on a submarine today, no?  Well let me enlighten you on the unexpected. 

I'm not talking a little mermaid sea deep explorer or hanging out with Jason trying to lose weight on subs....no I'm talking about a nuclear powered, missile toting, air rebreathing submarine of the United States Navy.  Now there a few things I, as a former Soldier (of FREEDOM), will never give the Navy respect for: come on they have their name tapes sewn above the right buttocks pocket (so you know who your taking from behind) and their new combat uniform a digitalized pattern of blue.  Don't get me wrong, if I worked on a ship and wanted to commit suicide that would be the perfect wardrobe, but as a death fearing man I would want my uniform to be prison orange if there was even a 1.26% chance of falling in to the water in the deep blue ocean...just me I guess.  The one thing I will give to them is the pure power you feel upon stepping on one of their subs, as a male this might cause instantaneous erections. 

As I board the poop deck (though don't really call it that to my disappointment) I am met by a Chief, not the Indian kind, who is to be my chaperone during this "duty" day.  As he leads me straight down the "gang" hole (I might be making up these Navy names, I'm not sure yet) straight in to the heart of the boat, he explains the basic parts of the ship.  I am beginning to fill with questions like a 15 year old around seasoned prostitute (who works down by the beach in Honolulu and asks saddening questions..screw that lady!), and can't wait till he’s done with the introductory brief.  Oh by the way this is Valentine’s day, a made up holiday by industry leads of the heart shaped box/candy manufactures in an effort to make people feel really bad about themselves for being single or lighten the bank accounts of those who aren't.  I recommend if you find yourself the former, celebrate it by going on a Navy Sub, you will fulfill that little hole people like to create with this holiday. 

"Question", as I feel the urge to raise my hand but resist, "If you nuclear powered submarine were to engage a whale named posidien, how fast would it achieve victory?"....blank stare.  "Question; is it true farts are recycled on the ship?"...blank stare.  "Question; is hot coating it the leading cause of homosexuality in the Navy?"...harder blank stare.  These are the questions that might or might not have been asked during this official sounding tour and an effort to break up the child like wonder I was feeling aboard this ship....and yes I would/would not be the person posing such serious matters.   

I have throughout my life compared myself to the many greats but I can tell you that over the last few weeks I have never felt a closer kinship to James Bond than before.  What’s that?  Oh last minute business trip to Hawaii, uh yeah I guess.  Oh, you'll pay for the hotel, rental car, dining, and keep me decently employed while I'm there....um, I guess.  Just because you chose a life that can be open as any book and mine will forever remained veiled in mystery and delight, with a few sacrifices, don't judge me prostitute....you don't get to go on Submarines!  That night I am proud to say I drank a fancy drink, think tropic Bond, of the Mai Tai and reveled in how my life has come to such a point.  Full power ahead....it's Hawaii adventure time!

Mukalulukana (my hawaiian name...I googled it)

Departing the airport, I was awash in the sense of travel.  A new place, a new smell of humid sea air punching you in the face as the electric sliding doors of the baggage claim exit whirred.  It was about 10 pm local and black as night out, I was immediately filled with sense of relaxation as I asked a near by security which way the rental buses were....'over there brah, they should come in a bit.'  After a short ride to the rental car agency, I walked in to the greeting of ALOHA! by three attendants, they were happy and relaxed with a no hurry shuffle about them.  Of course I was asked to upgrade to which I politely declined, then set off to the Airport after a few tips of local bars from the attendants. 

This is where things get a bit weird, first Honolulu is apparently and alien nation devoid of legible street signs and directions.  By the graces of GPS I was able to find my hotel after circling it like an Indian tribe around western wagons I finally found a parking garage entrance.  Pulling in to the garage a woman about twice the size of me (Samoan) fumbled around like the jolly green giant passing me a parking pass which looked like a postage stamp in her catcher mitt sized hands, I was intimidated.  Strolling in to the lobby, I was reminded of the 1970s a bit of shaggish carpet decorated by Aloha wearing security guards and clerks.  Oh, crowding the lobby was what I thought to be an evacuation of Japan at least 40 Japanese tourists whom all seems to have some sort or another electric device surgically implanted to their hands.  After checking and settling into a room that must have seemed like a lavish palace 40 years ago, so much so it would never, ever need to be updated ever again.  I decided to get out and get my bearings, explore a few pubs at 11:30 on a Tuesday....genius idea!  I walked for a bit and was shocked to see ladies of the night, sirens of ocean, on almost every corner.  Obliviously because of my good looks (or non-hobo looking attire) I was asked if I wanted company/a date/a good time/a life changing hour and such from about 4 women and 2 very manly looking women (shims).  I finally found a decent sounds pub with a que, "Moose McKinneys Macrobarbery..." or something like that, I hop in the que.  Now understand it's late, I'm not at the top of my game, so I don't immediately notice I'm approximately a decade older than most patrons here...and am not sporting a high and hooah (or marine Mohawk).  I pay the $10 cover (who has a cover any more!) and launch immediately up the stairs to a packed house, I'm think sweet dear jesus a drink!  After a short arm scratching, dying of thirst, wait at the bar I'm happy to see it's Two Dollar Tuesdays....it was like a present from the beer gods.  So I grab a drink and start to slowly squeeze my way through the room (it had more people in it than I'm usually comfortable with) the dance floor was hopping and I was a bit to sober to enjoy the tinny speakers blasting Gangnum style like it was going out of style.  Finally establishing a perch like the English claiming an island, I'm able to survey things a bit more.  I felt like I was accidently led on to a screening party for some flash trash shooting of Jersey shore...Hawaiian style.  Hawaiian style for this place being not a single native, but a bunch of 21 year old women swearing, grinding, and throwing themselves at marines/soldiers/jocks for a two dollar beer.  I don't mean to sound dour, there are some nights when I enjoy places like this, (like a lion finding a gaggle of sick and lame llamas) but this is not one of those nights.  I just want a nice chill pub to relax away the 18 hours of travel I've just endured (well really explored and drank through), so I depart after 20 minutes squeezing past 90's babies with a headache growing in each step....I felt old.  Wtf!  I felt old, I'm motherfreaking Peter Pan man, Banger-rang! I shouldn't feel old....let me re-phrase that, I was in culture shock and much more classy then them.  Now while there was an Irish pub across the street it seemed to be a bit two packed for my tastes, and the puking girls next to the hot dog stand kind of put me off.  So I decided to wander about a bit then head back to the room for a short nap before making some calls. 

There are a few times I have let the words of a woman get to me in my life, the following is one of them.  While wandering back to the hotel, I thought I'd dip my stinky (yes they did smell, I was wearing shoes for a full day!) in to the ocean in hopes of killing a shark.  On a corner across from the beach stood a small gaggle of prostituti (that's plural for prostitutes) where as one asked if I'd like a date; why yes prostitute let me court you and share your life of disease...no it's cool I support your work baby, I wouldn't mind you if you keep working while we date it's an income right?...what a weird way to phrase "would you like to pay me for use of my mouth."  Another desolate lady of the lagoon stood apart from the rest.  Don't think of that phrase as a romantic one, by any means, perhaps she was an outcast due to a bad gas problem or had really bad halitosis?  She called out to me with a voice crisp and clear (devoid of the gruff undertone of man) "Hey baby"....my reply "Yes?"..."Why are you in paradise alone?"  A quick realization hit me, I'm 31 and alone in paradise for an undetermined amount of time, this isn't a vacation.  I honestly couldn't even respond, and how could this seerer of ceiling cut so straight to the heart of my life?  I shuffled away without response.

I'm self sufficient, independent (through long years of lonely missions and travels), and responsible to the point it might be a fault.  I'm not too shabby looking and for what I don't have in looks I make up in wit, intelligence, and humor....but I still couldn't fathom a response to a prostitute as to how my life has lead me to being alone.  I know that my decisions are my own and this is a choice of mine and mine alone, but why then does it feel like there's an injustice?  Am I really hurting myself by holding out for someone that can provide more than love to me....someone that I feel complete with and am able to lose myself in love again?  Screw you prostitute.  After a brief moment of rest on the beach I head back to the hotel for a night of restless sleep.

In my most desolate moments I have always prevailed by picking out the best part of my situation and holding it above all others as an....least this is cool.  That object, my friends, the next morning was a pineapple.  Not just any pineapple, no a pineapple of GOLD!  Well gold color at least, coolest lamp ever....a pineapple gold immlunator of the dark that has probably seen more debauchery than a grandfather, stood glowing in the corner of my tropical papered room.  I will return to steal said lamp before my journey concludes, hence I will not reveal the name of this hotel until after it’s in my possession. 

First day of my working vacation was pretty chill, a lot of work in a lot of sun...I left fully charged with vitamin D (if you live in a dark area i.e. Europe...take a supplement trust me!) and a lobster colored tan glowing not only my cheeks but nose as well.  There is so much turmoil and unexpected paths in my near future I'm trying to focus my gold pineapple light on the small things so the bigger things seem distant.....oh Jameson, will you help me?

Starmotherfreakingbucks

Tip: If someone else is paying for your travel, arrange a very long layover in a place you want to see enroute.

 

So, Seattle what I can I say about this place that hasn't been said?  Ok first of all I booked a 1st class flight here from D.C. through Alaskan airlines.  Do not, I repeat do not, book a first class ticket through Alaskan Airlines.  First (and this may sound a bit posh) there is no 1st class lounge to take advantage of in D.C. for Alaskan Airlines, you get to chill out at the gate with the common people.  Secondly, the biggest perk of first class (for a lush at least) is unlimited drinks.....not so much on this airlines, yes I got cut off after 4 vodka/orange juices (that may seem enough for you some of you, but lets be honest you can't put a limit on free).  I think this is mainly do to the fact the guy next to me had terminal colon cancer and kept telling me jokes,  so in an effort to make him feel better I was laughing a bit harder than usual.  I think laughing can cure cancer, at least that’s what I've heard/read online.  Oh yeah, I love absolutely love hearing peoples "story", everyone has one but nobody really wants to hear it.  The guy sitting next to me on this flight, with terminal cancer, was in the United States Marine Corps. for four years, then joined the food service industry.  He opened up the first Starbucks in D.C. (if you've ever been, you know that it's an essential life blood of the D.C. culture) and then started working in the Restaurant business.  After a fall out with his wife (I guess ex-wife if you want to be completely correct) he promised his in-laws he would remain until his daughters (twins by the way....very beautiful, very, very, beautiful) had graduated high school.  So he spent the next ten years working in 3 to 4 star restaurants throughout the D.C. area (he made some quite peculiar recommendations) and then moved to Alaska.  In Alaska he managed the ferry's (apparently there’s very few because he stated this very matter of factly) service section for 15 years.  He shared stories about homeless and extra sunny days.  He told me about how he had just taken a trip across country to see his daughters and sold his car and old camper to his friends, for $3.75 because he lost a bet and he didn't need it any more.  More than anything I think this guy needed someone to listen, cause he had a lot to say. 

                 So the plane finally touched down in Seattle, and conviently having a 7 hour layover I immediately booked for the exit, why not explore right?  Just so you know, the metro or "Sound transit" is the cheapest and easiest way to depart from the airport to downtown.  I think it took me around 20 minutes, and $5.00 for an all day pass, to get to the business district of Seattle where adventure awaited.  First stop?  Pikes Place Market, for any of you that know me you know I have an aversion to food.  The market was pretty chill, a bit touristy, it had every different kind of fish, leather imprinted belts, shopping bags, and blah blah blah....I'm hungry.  I take a look at my trusty travel companion, Trip advisor app (P.S. Trip advisor I think it’s time you start sponsoring my trips), and head to Ivan's clam shack.  This place sits right next to a "curiosity shop"  and I am curious like a cat (that's why they call me whiskers...they don't but maybe they should).  It had some amazing stuff inside; like those fortune teller machines from the movie "Big", dehydrated corpses, two headed taxidermy animals, and post cards.  Ok, back to the originally point Ivan's right?  This place was set up like 1930's style wooden tables, bars, and stools.  A very big gay presence there which isn't something I'm immediately used (not adverse just not used to); my waiter, the table behind me, and the table across from me consisted of gay men (maybe it was gay seafood Tuesday).  So the Mussels/Clam Rockefeller was so amazing my mouth waters even thinking back on this meal.  Seriously they have their own self smoked bacon they add to a mix of mussels, creamy sauce, and pepper that will make you question why you don't live near the sea at all times.  It was like a chowder of deliciousness, while only consisting of a simple dish that was over far earlier than it should have been.  The fish and chips however, not much too rave about....they didn't even have HP sauce!  I then waddled over to the Columbia building, which is way taller than the Space Needle and a cheap price of $6 for military.  This place has amazing views of not only Puget Sound but of all downtown Seattle, definitely worth a trip....oh and by the way, no line.  There is the Seattle traffic radio station housed on the same viewing floor with harsh signs of "Silencio!" which is even better cause you can enjoy your view in peace.  From there I headed to Bubble gum alley, an alley infested with germs and used bubble gum affixed to a wall in a quaint alley way....if your a germaphobe this place would probably make you throw up.  I then headed to Pioneer square, walked around there little posh antique shops and then found the coolest thing ever!  The national park system runs a free museum based on the Alaskan gold rush in downtown Seattle, did I mention this was free....and awesome!  The staff, at least upon my arrival, was this older gentleman that seemed genuinely delighted with his job as a park ranger and historian and an equally excited younger woman.  He briefed me on a short history tour of the gold rush and the things the museum had to offer; let me explain this, I'm a nerd and I love little history things like this.  During my trip to Ireland for St. Patrick’s day honestly the be best part aside from the company was a butter museum with an old lady sensuously churning butter on a video.  So after a bit of very interesting intro I was led to a theater for a VIP screening of history (ok well everybody is a VIP in this place and the videos free to everyone).  Seriously the whole Alaskan gold rush thing was the same thing as a story going viral, and hitting youtube, for us but in a very serious and deadly manner.  People left their lives in hopes of a quick claim and striking it rich, and I can't begin to explain how it formed Seattle in a viable city.  They literally said that when the women (whom accompanied the men...damn right)  landed on the banks of Seattle they started crying because it was such a dissolute place. 

                 I really wish I could have spent more time in this city exploring, chilling with the homeless orphans (well maybe just homeless), and trying the homebrewed lagers but I had a plane to catch.  Oh yeah and by the way (btw) I did not, I repeat did not, have a cup of Starbucks....seriously I don't understand how some people can pay "premium" price for a cup of coffee!  Its bullcrap, its like people who poshly complain about the taste difference between coke and pepsi.....its all the same stuff. 

                Back in the Airport, a responsible one and a half hours before departure, I checked in to Alaskan Airlines 1st class lounge.  I cannot begin to say enough mediocore things about this airline!  While being checked in to the lounge the guy was on the phone the entire time, I literally waited staring at him for him to get off the phone.  After he hung up it wasn't a "can I help you, sir?" nope it was a "what?".   I told him I was waiting for him to welcome me to the lounge and give a brief synopsis of what amenities lay ahead.  Let me be clear in saying I am not a pampered man, hell I slept in a tent for 12 months in Iraq, but when people don't do their job in a welcoming manner I expect them to know it.  So after my little altercation with the friendly Alaskan clerk, I went upstairs to the free bar (yup, I'm excited too) only to find out there’s a three drink limit....screw you America, and Alaskan Airlines!  I stayed for an hour and a half precociously sipping my vodka/cranberry and witnessed a man I will henceforth refer to as "man tits bigfoot", because I took a very blurry picture of him stomping by and a guy literally fall asleep sitting.  Oh! and a guy with an eye patch, whom in my mind was either a pirate in disguise or an evil super villain (we'll go with the latter because he was using a laptop).  Flight to my next stop was chill and quiet, except I think I might have snored a bit...

 

Aloha bitches, yup I'm in Hawaii be jealous.

Magic in the Mundane

So I loved my trip to Punxsutawney!  Seriously it was kick ass, pretty much a drama free weekend which ended by reinforcing why I live in Europe.  To start this off on Friday I was recovering from being sick, I think due to the 40 degree swing in temp from day to day here...I don't know how people do it.  So after a long rest on Friday I drove all the way up to Pittsburg (a very dreary but chill town) from D.C. , to the outskirts or "small town murica."  My coat was still in the alterations down in DC so I was forced to go shopping that evening to some store called Dicks (sporting goods), which had a plethora of camouflaged wearing hilly Billy's scouting out the best deer piss scents and sporting orange hats.  Surprisingly, I didn't find anything my style in there so walked about the mall in search of a jacket.  I have always been a people watcher (not stalker, just watcher) and dear baby jesus was there some interesting people in this mall.  It was surreal how much availability of things there are in one place, I know I'm always like this upon returning back to the states, it was almost borderline wasteful the abundance of products just sitting about.  After a bit of digging in J.C. Penny's I found some great deals and ended up with a jacket....now we're done with the boring part.

Apparently in PA they don't sell beer in liquor in the same store, or in regular stores at all; the reasoning behind this couldn't really be explained to me, I'm going to blame stupidity.  So after a little shopping experience popped by the, this is really the name, "Beer Distributor" to pick up 12 pack and then dropped by a bar called Monkey Pigs or something similar. 

When I first walked in to this bar, and granted this is a hick bar, I was overwhelmed with disgust/excitement at patrons of this place.  Seriously, this was a backwoods bar where all men wore work boots, jeans, flannel shirts, and baseball caps as a standard.  Women wore and array of t-shirts to glittery Britney Spears looking clothing, while trying to seem indifferent of my arrival.  I'm not a vain man, but I knew right from the start in my hadji scarf, wool sweater, and leather shoes...there might be an issue.  I sat at at free table and right off the bat this wasted guy tried to lay into saying "that's a pretty scarf you got there boy, where you from.".....in case you don't know me, I don't take shit talking laying down.  I calmly give him a buy, "I'm from Germany, just flew in this week" I explain.  He does a bit of a drunk double take, telling me he was stationed in Germany a long time ago as well...it turns out this guy and I were assigned to the same unit back in 2001 in Kosovo.  So guess who doesn't pay for a drink all night, and has a table full of shit kickers fending off people trying to mess with me?....this guy.  Looking around the bar though at people hitting on the each other, I realized (quite egotistically...yet soberish) I could be a GOD in a town like this.  Really "Rita" you work at the Clothing/Barn yard supply store, oh my what an interesting life you have, let me tell you about my travels....batta bing.  Seriously, I could have cleaned up; then upon further reflection I came to a very odd realization that makes me feel kinda old; I don't want time wasters anymore.  Yes I'm still afraid of Bears, Commitment, and Fire...but I'm tired of wasting my time with women just for amazing sex and etc.  I want what I had almost two years ago, I want a partner in crime, that will stimulate more than just a physical reaction. 

Most of these random psychotic women in my life over the past year (granted I was partially to blame with the going craziness) have been place holders in my life to validate what I do and don't want in a person.  I've learned that no, I don't want someone who constantly needs me; writing and calling multiple times a day (to finish off things with an 80 page letter).  No, I don't want a sex based relationship with someone I have trouble communicating with because of language barriers.  No, I don't want to rush into marriage or even moving in even if things feel ok.  No, I can't do a long distance relationship without feeling completely in love with someone.  But dear 6 lbs., gap wearing, baby jesus....would it be easy to fill my life with those kinda women here in the States.  Listening to the daftness of a common person over here makes me feel alien in a world that is so egocentric and consumer orientated...these people are missing something they don't even realize, fucking life!

So yeah, cool night out at the pub...had a few drinks, a few laughs, and of course met some decent people.  4 1/2 hours later, my committed/tired self is en route to Punxsutawny, PA.  The place was PACKED, even pulling in to town most streets were blocked off and parking lots were filled galore.  I tried to find parking in the local Walmart where a bus service was trucking people up to "Gobblers Knob", I'm not even making that name up.  No parking I found a side street I was able to park the car and then it was off for a 2 mile hike, at 0640, straight up hill, in 11 degree weather (can you tell I was committed?).  We made the "Knob" 2 minutes before the ceremony began and I immediately regretted not arriving earlier; people were WASTED!, dancing little polka dances and singing Ground hog songs...it was awesome.  So the ceremony in itself was pretty chill; we're going to have an early Spring according to the prognosticators of prognosticators. 

Then the fun began, after another 2 mile hike down hill in to town there was an array activities planned through out the town in celebration of Ground Hog day.  My first priority however, was coffee and some warm food.  We found a Fraternal Order of the Eagle lodge (I'm still not sure if this was a boyscout thing or not) that was serving a breakfast buffet, for the celebration, at only $8 a head.  Standing in line for over 45 minutes I had plenty of time to talk with locals about mundane things, which helped me remember how friendly small towns really are.  At about the 3/4 mark of the line, I was standing inside the lodge overlooking a family of 4 (with a total combined weight of 700 lbs) that was destroying breakfast.  The smallest kid (approx. my weight) was about 11 and I swear to god at one point took his french toast sticks and dipped them from his syrup in to his coke before consuming.  I was flabbergasted, I locked eyes with the couple behind me and then nodded towards this action.  He shocked as well, asked me "who the hell is that kid, Buddy Elf?", serious kudos to him I couldn't stop laughing for like 5 minutes. 

With breakfast complete we toured a local hotel that had Punxsutawney Phil souvenirs in three separate parts of the hotel.  In the second room I noticed a wine booth, sitting next to the wine booth was a chick about my age on a bar stool.  Upon further joking about her being a bouncer, she asked to see an "ID" and then opened this door for us; we lucked upon a damn speakeasy.  Now I can't tell you how estactic this made me, I love finding things like this, but walking in to this place my jaw literally swung open.  Now mind you this is about 0900 in the morning, not only was the place packed, but who happened to be standing in the middle of the bar?  Oh, that's right Winny "the mother freaking" Poo and a Rodney Dangerfield impersonator!!!  They were just chilling out having a drinking joking with each other (I should clarify Winny was really a man named Steve in a costume).  Greatest surprise of the day for me, I was resolved to meet both but didn't want to seem to over eager.  So I went to the bar for a round; they only carried Miller, Bud, and Coors...I asked for some Irish Whiskey and received a solo cup half full of Hennesy (for $4!).  Who decides to come over and introduce himself you ask, oh that's right my friends Winny/Steve and his friend Phil (from Lincolnshire, England).  We sit and joke for a bit, they tell me about how awesome the pre-ground hogs day party is and how I should make it for new year and such.  So, yeah are a bit of laughs and pictures they were off.  Two "whiskeys" later I went out in to the lobby and of course my friend Rodney Danger field seemed to be waiting to talk to me.  He first goes through a couple "I get no respect jokes", I gave him respect for that (be he doesn't know it) and took a few pictures with the guy....EPIC win.

Following this was my second favorite part of the day;  Q&A time with Punxsutawney Phil and his handlers. 

Needless to say these were my proposed questions:

"Punxsutawny Phil drinks a magic elixir that prolongs his life 7 years, annually.  Why doesn't he just drink it every 6 years, to preserve elixir?"

"If Punxsutawny Phil is indeed a woodchuck, who could chuck wood, how much wood could he in fact chuck?"

"What are Punxsutawney Phils views on why a rainbow is pretty?"

"Why does Punxsutawney Phil hate freedom but love the Spring?"

"Punxsutawney Phil is 127 years old, with no recordable offspring....explain?"

So the only answer I recived from this town hall like setting of questions and answers was 700 lbs., in reference to the wood question.  Bastards!

Walking around the town I also entered an Art store with 5 women drinking champagne and selling hot dogs.  One of the women also had a ground hog puppet and was pole dancing with him in the window.

(I thought the above paragraph would be of note).

Yesterday was a pretty chill day of driving back to D.C., followed by a Superbowl party of people my age.  Let me tell you this first of all, if they are an example of how I'm supposed to act my age, kill me now.  These guys were droll, naive, opinionated to the max, and most of all lacked wit.  Don't get me wrong they were good people at heart but I was one out of two men surrounded by 5 women (majority obese) and the other guy I was with acted like a whipped puppy dog.  I was very anxious to leave and did so around half time.  I spent the remainder of the game smoking a cigar and drinking Irish Whiskey like a man should!

Ground Hog day

I think at a point in everyone's life two things happen; first you watch a kick ass Bill Murray film (class actor btw, I would pay big money to chill with him and Chevy Chase for a night) and second you relate your life to that film.  Tonight is a big night for me, I'm driving to Punxsutawny, PA!  I'm going to kidnap, scratch that, watch the emergence of a ground hog;  peaking his little dented ground hog head out of a hole we will lock eyes (passionately at first) and pass intimate knowledge of our past travels and tribulations.  After which the mayor of the town will pick up my new furry faced friend (or fiend, it remains to be seen) and have a private secretive discussion.  I will await in trepidation, thinking the entire time that the little shit of a ground hog is whispering secrets it learned by locking eyes with mine...to the mayor and the world.  We'll see if he squeaks tomorrow, his life just may lay in the result.

The trip itself should be chill, I'm driving up through PA not in a rush at all for once.  I love things like this, I honestly want to plot a trip across the states in search of the most eccentric and odd things I can find (i.e. The worlds biggest balls.....of twine).  I mean who the hell knows if I'll ever move back to this selfish egotistical land but if I do, that would make a for a kick ass trip!  I remember as a kid navigating across country for my Dad, I was always the "map holder" kind of like the "key master" or the "gate keeper" (another Bill M. reference)....see Punxsutawney Phil, this trip is fate.  I don't remember a lot from before the age of 18 but I do remember being constantly on the move.

Pikey Bastards!; apparently lovingly, my parents have passed on the pikey (aka gypsy for you non-English folk) spirit in me.  Before becoming a legal adult (18 years)I lived in around 18 different places in the United States, divorced they both keep on the go throughout my childhood and I inherited being the "map holder" for each set of parents.  A stable little smart ass, who was smart enough to read a map, direct travel, estimate gas mileage and stops, and most importantly provide bad jokes to keep the driver awake...so yeah I was a little smart aleck early on.  Though most trips are a blur I remember knowing where we were going, how long it'd take, and having full control and trust of the driver.  If I was drunk at this point I would probably offer some insightful psychological reference or lesson, but I have to keep my sober wits about me...I'm driving soon.

After starting this last night, like most (think) have comitted myself to this blog thing.  I don't know if I understand it yet, perhaps its just an egotistical way to express my life by the coolest person ever (ME!)....or it really is because people have been asking me to do this for years.  Either way, now I'll be able to look back and remember the times like the one night I met someone in the train station while in Germany and with-in 5 minutes they were constructing a voo doo doll of me.  Come to think of it that same night I had visited my first Red light (didn't pay for sex...or have it at the red light), got tipped off about a cool small town party, met my first Stalker (Dorena, I think her name was) who feel in love, and had sex in a barn....20 minutres before taking a taxi ride to the train station, meeting Mr. Voo Doo.

Tomorrow we'll see if P-donka donk Phil remains alive.

There was wine, some beer, some sweet sweet jameson...and me.  I'm 31 years old, as of last Sat., divorced, the father to two wonderful midgets (Danger & Trouble), and have had one hell of a ride....I'm sarcastic, witty, egotistical, a warmongering pacifist, and not willing to say no in life.  This blog is my first, and to be honest it's going to be horrible.  It's going to be a combination of past experiences, travels, and validate many view of my assholishness;  it's going to show the entire world why not to trust men, make a 5 year plan, and hopefully at the very least raise a small smirk. 

So where should we start, eh?  Fuck it, lets start with today;  Where am I you ask?  I'm in a quant living room of a beautiful woman who will never fully realize her inner beauty, in a suburb of Washington D.C.  I've been quasi dating this girl for the last week, and things have been intense...will they work out, honestly probably not, I learned the hard way how long distance works....but who the hell knows what's normal in life, not me I'll tell you that.  I've been here for the last 10 days, 10 days of a 4 star hotel, upgraded rental car, bars, booze, jazz, and Jameson.  Suited up most days while I conduct my work and playing the classy well travelled man at night...life shouldn't be too bad right?  Depends on your view of life I guess, most guys my age are well suited in a comfortable career, married (or in deeply committed relationships), and are in a place they will call home for the rest of their lives...or so I've heard.  Where the fuck am I in that mist you ask?  I live in Germany, Stuttgart, Germany to be exact.  I have a magical little English bulldog that pulled me from the brink of depression (Lady Dog Face Churchill III), who will always dependably call the one woman who will love me no matter what.  I work for the US Government doing some amazing things I've dreamed of as a child and have a huge drunken friend network consisting of some of the oddest people you will ever meet....but above all else I travel! 

Should I validate this blog for you in the lush part or the travel, or both?!?  hmm...in the last 2 years I can honestly say I've travelled to more than 23 countries, my liver hates me.  The States has become a foreign concept to me, a quaint reality that I sometimes despise and sometimes love.   I have met people from all cultures and creeds, and have hungered for more....the replaying theme throughout these stories, it's cheesy though, is that I want someone who shares that hunger.  Honestly I had someone once and after a year and a half of love it ended, and with it a part of me ended.  That's love though, apparently, I can say a lot of it was my fault and most of bad timing...another current theme in my life. 

I don't want to sound like I'm whining in any way shape or form though;  my life motto has always been no regrets!  Each actions and reaction through life has been one that shaped who you are today, and even if you don't like that person...sucks for you, be happy with it, it's what you've got.  I've got tattoo's, I'm well read, well traveled, can make friends with the devil, and have a story for any occasion...suck it, most 'interesting man of the world'.

Ok, back to D.C. I have no idea how long I'll be here but over the last week I've explored all that is Alexandria and have been slowly reacquainting myself with 'merica!  Jesus the culture over here is weird, I can't get over two things; Everyone (I mean everyone) smokes weed...when the hell did this happen?!?  and there's not a person I know that wouldn't involve police in a personal matter in a heart beat (disclaimer I have had no contact with Law Enforcement, as of yet, during this trip). 

Not sure if that's enough of an intro but that's what we have ladies and gentlemen, we will dwell into the past, present, and future whilst enjoying a drink of your choice and you can laugh or disbelieve the ridiculous shit I get involved in; from midget fights, gypsies, crazy women, crazier homeless people, staring babies, fire like accidents, and more.  Welcome to the life of a Lush Traveler...lets enjoy the ride!