colorado, 13 July - 19 July 05

On Monday morning of this week I woke up around 9:15 on my pal EP's living room floor in his rented condo in Boulder, CO. His wife J had already taken off for the day, and his dog Sagan was staring at me. EP was boiling water for coffee, and I got up off the floor to pack a one hitter.

EP had to go to his bike store job, and I had the entire day to myself. He left me keys to the truck, Sagan's leash and driving instructions to the mt lily trail just outside of Estes Park. I checked email and found that an ex girlfriend is getting married. I decided to bury that for future mental examination. I got hi, I got the dog into the truck and I got on the road.

Mt Lily is a good 45 minute drive from Boulder, passing through some of the most fantastic natural beauty in the United States. I asked myself over and over what the fuck I'm still doing in Chicago, when it's become obvious that after seven years of living here it's kind of run its course...

I'm finding the city to be more of a pain in the ass than usual lately. Considering that I could look for a job in the Denver area, I'd rent a small apartment or cottage - at least a half hour out of the city - and live on the mountain with a mountain view.

All the shit I like to do outdoors is there, whereas this city can only accomodate long distance bike rides, and not much of anything else. even that is a pain in the ass with all of the fucking guidos and dickheads with large trucks on the street... since when is being a fat piece of shit revving SUV engines at a stoplight a cool thing to do? Fucking Italians.

Anyways, I'm missing the positive mental clarity provided by the west, and hating on the metropolitan commuter smells like some old man shit himself on the train a half hour late for work where nobody does anything but talk smack anyways. bullshit...

Wednesday the 13th was a travel day. EP picked me up at the Denver Airport, had a beer and hitter waiting in the truck, and we drove into Denver to meet up with my 25 year old still in college total flake druggie sister to score some shit for the week.

She's dating this dude who looks a lot like that dude in the Tao of Steve. He's a physical therapist for babies and grows bud with the medicinal license he somehow got from the government. This was my first time meeting him and I thought that he was pretty cool. We crashed on the floor and were out of there by 10 a.m.

Thursday July 14th
We drove through to a camp site and set up shop. We drank tea and assembled el scorpio. Paranoia ran a bit high after sampling some of EP's mushroom tea. I wasn't sure if EP or one of the animals in the forest was plotting to kill me, so I kept a swiss army knife handy in my backpocket, and a watchful eye on my comrade.

The heavy drugs soon wore off and we ate hot dogs off the fire and looked at the new issue of Playboy.

Friday July 15th
We drove straight through to Winter Park to begin two days of downhill mountain biking.

This is downhill in a nutshell:
you take a chair lift up about 2,500 feet with your bike hanging on a hook next to your seat on the lift, and from just like skiing, you get to the top and have several runs to choose from. All of the runs we rode down were pretty much the same: single track through wooded areas, switchbacks, and cutting across ski runs. The trails are fucking steep and loaded with large rocks, tree roots, loose gravel, and dirt. You end up riding your back brake the entire time because if you loosen up, you end up going way too fast to handle the trail.

So your hands begin to hurt from the constant braking (make a fist for 40 minutes straight -- it's like that), and your arms get tired from the constant jackhammer motion of the bike fork riding over all kinds of obstacles on the trail.

However, your mind switches over to a purely reactionary, spatial problem solving at 22 mph mode and you get into a zone. You're surrounded by large solid objects (like, "trees") -- that could seriously fuck you up -- but your athleticism and coordination keep you from wrecking.

I wrecked twice: once going too slow down a pass with too much dirt (I got a dirty arm), and the second time from riding off the trail from going too fast (I cut up my hand and scraped up my forearm). EP wrecked once in a spectacular wipe out. He was a bit shaken, but fine.

See, EP really fucking likes to point it out when you crash, or slip, or fuck something up in some minor way. That's fine, that's human. He loves to tell his wife about it immediately so that they can both get a laugh out of it and remind each other that EP is the greatest in the universe.

However, when EP wrecks like he did that day, it's like the fucking end of the world... he's injured, his wreck is horrifying, and he's lucky to be alive... so, there's great concern. I didn't want to laugh at him, but his wreck was a wild one and didn't look like he could have gotten hurt. He was fine, we moved on.

Saturday July 16th
We drove to Keystone for another day of downhill. Keystone was better than Winter Park, and more challenging. I would recommend Keystone over Winter Park, but only if you've downhilled before (Winter Park was actually a really good warm up for Keystone). That night we drove back to Denver and had dinner with EP's wife J and a few of her friends in her teaching program. We were beat, a glass of red wine nearly knocked me out.

Sunday July 17th
EP had to work at the bike store, and J had a paper to write, so I got out of the condo with my bike and smoked and biked around Boulder. There was an art fair going on on Pearl Street, so I went to check that out.

Boulder (and it seems all of Colorado) is full of totally fucking hot women in their 20s out doing the type of outdoor shit -- like ride a bike.. everywhere. -- that I've adopted into my lifestyle that the clueless money lusting women in Chicago haven't figured out.

Beyond that, the hot women in Boulder actually make eye contact and smile at you like you're a fuckable human. And when I say hot women, I mean toned bodies from physical activity, sun kissed skin, and real social skills.

None of this high gloss make up with a fucking $500 purse the size of a TV remote control, and way too obvious materialism petty cunt attitudes. Oh, I guess you might say that I'm over the crazy bitches in Chicago. Make that the midwest.

Go ahead materialistic crazy bitches... marry that fat fucking piece of shit with male pattern baldness. However, don't be suprised when your old, aging ass is dumped at age 45 for a younger model... that's the deal, retard. You've got a shelf life for that ass.

Anyways, where's my mind?

So that night after EP got off of work, we took a pair of tubes down to the Boulder river and tubed down through the submerged rocks, waterfalls and heavy current in two feet of water. It was extreme. For real.

That night I took EP and J out to dinner at a mexican place. We got hi in the truck and began to name and number all of the jobs we've had. By my count, I've had 23 jobs in the last 17 years. I drank two Fat Tires and left a shitty tip for the hair gel year round tan west coast boy waiter who appeared too stupid to handle tying his own shoes.

Monday July 18th
So I find out that ex is getting married, and drive Sagan the dog to Mt. Lily to climb and contemplate.

Whenever I've found out about ex's getting engaged, I've always thought about the same thing: I'm happy for them. I'm happy for them because they found someone that they want to marry who actually wants to marry them. I know with full certainty that I would not want to be married to any of my ex's. I know this because I know that we cannot get along. That's been proven.

Regarding this ex's upcoming marriage I have a few different thoughts because this particular person is much different from the rest. This one seems to be following in her mother's footsteps -- a person of horrible decision-making skills who is an alcoholic and most likely mentally ill -- and that makes me blue.

It's because this particular girl has so much more going for her than she knows, and because she hates her mother's example (her mother recently got married for the 7th time in Las Vegas to a fellow alcoholic who she met at a fucking airport bar after dumping husband #6). This girl is following in her mother's footsteps.

I totally loved this girl more than anyone I've met in the past 10 years. She's flawed and fucked up and fragile and free spirited. I cannot imagine dealing with the shit hand she's been dealt in her life, but she's also evil.

I used to be in great pain because she was my partner and she fucked everything up and left. I wanted her to be my friend and my woman, and sometimes when I saw little girls in public, I'd see my ex's face. It hurt me. She told me that she loved me but couldn't be with me. That went on until I cut her off in an especially cruel way (I, too, am capable of evil).

That was a calendar year ago, and now she's getting married. I can't say I blame her, because what else is she going to do? She's an emotionally disturbed drug addling totally broke cocktail waitress with no education. And she's 31 years old. What the fuck else could she do besides sell out and marry some jagoff with a lot of money. Hot women like my ex can do this because she's manipulative and a survivor.

So, finally, I hope that she's happy. I know that I made her happy on a spiritual level, and that when I finally rejected her (I had to get her out of my life), that must've hurt... but considering how badly she fucked with my head and heart, it's justified. She simply doesn't know any better and was probably really hurt when I shut her out. It really hurt me to do it.

All of this sent her in the direction she's in, and when I consider what that means, all I can think is that that's weak.

Reader... always remember this:

LIFE IS WHAT YOU MAKE OF IT.

--

I flew back on Tuesday night. I checked my email and got a very positive message from my pal Carney about a woman who works with his wife that I met at his house party before my trip. She's a knock out, and I made a good impression. Which is good because I thought that she was pretty cool. I'll take her out next week and see how it goes.

--

The universe has been openly talking to me over the past year. I've been watching for signs and listening. I think that I'm on the right path.