Saturday, September 28, 2002
I went out to some bars last night in Huntington Beach with some friends. I got turned away from Fred's because my Driver's License was expired. My drivers license. Which, although expired was state issued, proved I was who I said I was, and proved that I was well over 21. A full f***ing decade over 21. The risk to them was minimal. Yet they turned me away. There is no common sense in the world. None.
Jim Parisi
Friday, September 27, 2002
The last time I was in Vancouver, I did a little house shopping, just to see what I could get for my money there compared to SoCal. For those of you who don't know, OC real estate has gone through the roof. The median home price now pushing $460K. It's crazy. In Newport $350K might buy you a dilapidated, 1000 square foot condo. Next to a freeway onramp. And a sewage treatment facility. Maybe. When I was in Vancouver, I looked at an amazing 1800 square foot, two bedroom, two-level, downtown loft in the trendy Yaletown district with exposed brick and concrete floors, 20 foot ceilings, fireplace, spiral staircase, open master bedroom loft, two bathrooms, gourmet kitchen, and a private roof deck for $550K Canadian. That's $350K US. I think I could get used to the rain for a place like that.
Jim Parisi
Thursday, September 26, 2002
It always looks better from here. I guess that's why I have stayed there so long.
Jim Parisi
Wednesday, September 25, 2002
Someone keeps finding my site looking for pictures of "peanut butter bikinis." I swear. For the life of me I have no idea what that means - and I thought the internet had exposed me to nearly every conceivable form of erotica. If you found this looking for chicks wearing peanut butter, rest assured, you won't find any here. Now put down the Skippy and go get help.
Jim Parisi
Speaking of exchanging money, nearly every store in Canada accepts and will exchange US dollars. And they don't mind. They don't complain. Don't put up a fuss or look at our money like it came from a board game. Very nice people. And no one ever wants to blow up Canadians. They can proudly sew their flag onto their backpacks. Can you imagine walking into any store in the US and trying to use any money other than our own? You'd get thrown into the street. We really can be international brats. A bunch of cultural adolescents who just happen to own damn near everything. Makes me want to move.
Jim Parisi
You know what I miss about Canada? Aside from the obvious. I miss the exchange rate. It's been quite stellar recently. Well, stellar for the visiting yank. Case in point. If you go to a Starbucks in Vancouver, order a cafe latte or two, a biscotti, a bottled water and maybe a muffin, the total comes to roughly $20 Canadian. Hand them a $20 bill US. And get roughly $20 Canadian back in your wallet.
Jim Parisi
Tuesday, September 24, 2002
I have good friends. Today a large anchovy pizza was delivered to my house with the words "There's other fish in the sea. Love LVG and Denise" written on the box. I don't eat anchovies, but it was still very sweet. Twisted for sure. But sweet. Thanks you two. Thanks.
Jim Parisi
Monday, September 23, 2002
I'm still so conflicted I feel stretched. Frayed. I want answers but there aren't any. I'm still hurt. I still feel empty. I miss her so much my head tightens behind my eyes. It feels like someone took a giant melon baller and scooped out everything from my collar bone to my abdomen. But I'm angry she left. I'm bitter and hurt and frustrated. But I can't get mad at her. It would be so much easier if I could. I love her too much to hate her. I still can't sleep through the night. I wake up every morning with thoughts or dreams or memories of her in my head. Climbing should help. That focus and fear and exposure and perspective should help. But every time I climb I think of how happy she would be out on the rock. And how happy I would be if she could share those travels with me. She wants to be friends. She misses me. But her friendship is my torment. A reminder of what I have lost. It's a thin replacement for intimacy. Like a tissue when you desperately need a blanket. She wants space. She needs space, and I don't want to push her away. But the space leaves me terrified. It's like being afraid of the dark. The space is a cold unknown. How much space? How can I not tell her every second how much I need her? How much I miss her? If I give her space will she use that time to build a taller, stronger wall between us? Will what we shared just fade into a comfortable memory? I still have hope for us. I remember how she looked at me. What she told me. How she touched me. Everything we shared. And I can't fathom how she could feel so differently now. But I ache. And it's the hope that fuels that ache. Without hope, the pain can grow dark and cold and I can move on. But I'm not ready to move on. I want to understand what happened. Why she lost hope. How she could walk away. But even if I could understand what happened, I may not be able to change it. I want to fix things. Make it better. Yet only she can fix this. She has to be willing to try. She is frustrated with me. But how can I not fight for her? At what point do you give up? Walk away. It's not in my nature to back down from something, from someone I feel so strongly about. The whole thing is splitting my head apart. And I don't know what I can do, don't know what I should do. Other than keep breathing and hope she finds her way back to me and be prepared to accept that she may not be able, or willing, to do just that.
Jim Parisi
Added some new Owens River Gorge pics. Enjoy.
Jim Parisi
Sunday, September 22, 2002
I made it back from another weekend in the Eastern Sierra with hopes to clear my head a bit. Maybe heal my heart. Spend my 31st birthday dangling off cliffs in the Owens River Gorge. I survived. Not sure my head is any clearer or my heart is repaired, but it was a nice weekend otherwise. Perhaps not the birthday weekend I had hoped for. Certainly not the weekend I anticipated. Never thought I would be alone. But it was good to be outside. The climbing was stellar. Even if my head was not. I'm out a few hundred bucks for an unfortunate speeding ticket (wasn't paying attention coasting down the 74), maybe a few thousand after my insurance gets jacked (mustang's aren't cheap to insure). But other than that, no injuries. Perhaps I'll post some pictures later. Right now I'm just looking forward to a shower, some food and the Soprano's. And if I'm lucky, my first full night's sleep in more than a week. That would indeed be a nice birthday present.
Jim Parisi
