StupidHurts

“So I just quit my job to pursue my writing career full time kinda scary but I’m having faith in my talent and actually you were one of the people that inspired me to chase my dreams – truth.”

I was told this last night by a friend of mine. I hadn’t heard from her in a bit, but I was instantly glad I have two hands. On one hand I was really glad for her, and I hoped she has nothing but good luck. On the other hand, there was an instant and hard hitting feeling of guilt. In my own eyes, I have done nothing with my life, and deal with a constant sense of failure. It forces me to get out of the bed most days, so I guess it works. To help with her quest, I gave her the information of a close friend who is a writer, hoping she might offer any information that she has. I also plan to give her the information for another writer the next time I talk to her.

Earlier in the week I was out in the country-side enjoying the weather, and my bicycle. I was lost in my thought pedaling along fairly happily. Then I had my pace ruined when I had to stop for a row of ducks crossing the road. About thirty or so ducks, leaving one farm and heading to another. On a mission it seemed.

Normally large groups of birds tend to ignore me.

Except of course for today. I found out there is a “Do not feed the birds,” sign out behing the library for a reason. It was an odd sight to round the corner heading to the back of the library only to quickly find myself crowded by birds. There were lots of them. More than I could get into frame at once, and they seemed ok with me digging into my bag to dig out my camera. So they deal with people all the time

I kept saying to myself that I wasn’t going to blog about this. I was hoping maybe not thinking about it would help me get over it, but honestly I was wrong.

I got up early this morning to ride my bicycle to the social security office. I needed to look into options since I got denied for Medi-cal a few days ago. I spent a few hours talking to the woman at the counter who proposed I get an appointment for the next day. I then went home and started gathering paperwork.

Later on, while I am reading the disability website, my dad calls me into his room to tell me I need to do more with my day than just sit in my room and waste time. He then hands me a number and a website for a job. When ever I say I am looking for a job they degrade me and ask me what kinda of a job do I intend to keep, and then tell me not to look for one. This is getting ridiculous if nothing else.

Plus he handed me an ad for a job that requires a Drivers License.

Now that he knows I have an appointment with the social security office. He is suddenly interested in going with me. I have a bit of an issue with that. He doesn’t know why I am going, nor did he help fill out paperwork or do foot work. He doesn’t understand I would rather ride my bicycle across town in the rain instead of deal with him. And that I pay the girl down the road at the copy store so I don’t have to ask him to use his printer.

I am sitting here, setting the alarm on my cellphone for tomorrow. In my head I think tomorrow nine-thirty a:m should be perfect since I need to be dressed and ready for ten a:m. After setting my alarm for 9:30, I quickly realize that some one is going to knock on my door at nine-twenty a.m., and the first words of my day will most likely be. “It is to early for this shit.”

Tomorrow is a two hour car ride to Sacramento with my family. Not my first choice by far. They want me to come along for some reason. I am kinda curious about that fact. Mostly considering the fact they haven’t  talked to me unless they needed something for several weeks. Originally when my dad told me to be prepared, he wouldn’t tell me what for. I hate when he does that. It took me asking my grandmother what the trip was about.

Luckily, I have lots of vicodin and dark sunglasses. So tomorrow should be simple enough.

No matter how many times you have done it in the past. No matter how manner times you double check it. That first time you go to test-ride on a bicycle you built. It can be really scary. This time was no different.

Part of the problem with building bicycles. If one thing breaks, it can take other things with it. Including the frame. Or worse it could end me. I am going to double check everything again tomorrow morning, but tonight I think it rode well. A few small kinks of course. I think different handle bars would be nice. I am afraid I don’t like my base bar very much. It has limited hand positions, but I will try to give them a try first. That aside, until I ride the bike some more, I can’t form a concrete opinion.

Shame I might have to sell it soon.

I have a job interview on Monday, and I have four places to call tomorrow. Unfortunately I don’t know what to do in the big picture. I have had five seizures in the past two days. I know the increase is mostly caused from my anger with my family, but I don’t know what to do in the short term.

Unfortunately my family insisted since I dealt with the health dept. incorrectly. So they would handle it correctly themselves today. This morning they gave me excuses. Tomorrow is the deadline, so it looks like I will be riding my bicycle to the health dept. in the rain. Tomorrow I go to finish things  the way I expected to in the beginning.

Sitting here I am looking at the front end of my bicycle. I am done running all the cables and parts from the handle bars. Of course I ran my shifter cables backwards the first time. But when I was finally done with the cables. I actually sat there, and looked at the way the cables ran from all the controls to each of their specific parts. They looked balanced, almost like art. I am also glad it came out somewhat neatly in the end. Cable cutting can be a little aggravating.

It was nice to have something go decently well. Especially after having a crappy day. I made the mistake of looking ahead in case I don’t have insurance in a few months. I was up most of the night looking discounts and stuff. Since the medicine I am on is less than a year old. It is hard to find discounts. I made the mistake of telling my grandmother about the discount I found this morning. I have not been able to get her help reliably, but according to her this is all my fault.

I think I have had around four seizures today. I think I will try to sleep now.

I posted earlier how I was awaken by a call to tell me the bike shop was finished with my bicycle. That day was also sunny, warm, and the kind of day most bloggers post about. That was the day I also didn’t have my bag on me when I got to the bike shop. I figured I would just pick the bike up on Monday. Since it was raining side ways and I ran into Joe painting his car in his garage. I never made it too far.

But Tuesday the rain quit for a few hours. So I got dressed and got my bag. As the garage opened I watched it begin to rain again. I begin to weigh my options before I decided to just say screw it all, and go get my bike in the rain.

I think I made it to the shop in a record time. Only to watch the sun come out as I was wrestling with my bike to get inside of the door.

So I picked my bike up, gave them most of my money and rode home. Thankfully it was an uneventful ride and sunny my entire way home.

Of course once I got it home, I realized one very little,  but very important part didn’t fit. My left shifter will not fit into its hole. As I was leaving to go pick up something to make it fit. I caught on the news, “Now entering into day three of the Pacific Pounding.” Classy name I admit, but they are planning for it to rain for the rest of the week. So I think I will just hang out around the house instead. Makes for fewer blog post. But I have to deal with the, “Pacific Pounding.”  Just a little less.

I heard that term a few days ago for the first time. My Grandmother was trying to explain the reason no one in the neighborhood knows each other. Planned communities and gated neighborhoods are terms I am used to. There are several in both directions. Apparently I live in what is referred as a the “bedroom belt.” People use this part of the world, as little more than a place to keep there stuff. Aside from runners and dog walkers, this neighborhood can get depressingly quiet. At times there are days I expect a tumbleweed to roll by.

Other times it is a neighborhood of vintage cars, loud motor cycles, and a vengeful neighborhood watch program.

I have gotten a ticket for putting my trash cans in the wrong place, and I think Joe got a ticket for leaving his Christmas lights up to late. You can also see how I got lost that time since all the houses on the street are the same color from the picture.

Luckily Joe is an insane next door neighbor who really shouldn’t be allowed to get bored. But it usually makes for good a post here when ever he does. Today I was leaving today to see a formally black car being painted blue with a brush in his garage.

Like a lot of our conversations, this one ended with,”because I got bored.” I really don’t think I could argue with that even if I wanted to.

First picture of me of the new year, chipped tooth and all.

In a plain shirt as usual. When I give a damn and start shaving again, I might actually buy a few button down shirts.

At ten a.m. I was one of the first people the bike shop called. One of the first questions in that conversation was, “did I wake you up?” And the answer was of course, “why yes you did.” But he wanted to tell me my bike was done and ready for pick up.  Then I reminded him a vital part was missing. One of the perks of living in a small town. The next closest shop is the next town over.

So later I went down to the bike shop to look at the progress they had made, and because it is the last warm sunny day I will get for the rest of the week. We ended up sitting there and making the part I am missing which means I should be building the bike on Monday. I just didn’t have my bag to take it home with me.

Yeah, I know it has been a bit since I posted last. I have to keep reminding people that I live in a small town where nothing much ever happens. It is small enough that if you stand on top of the hill across the street from my house, you can see two of the city limits if you know where to look.

This is across the street from my house.

So it remains just a little quiet.

Last night I decided to break things up. I went out and hung out with one of my street racing neighbors. That was different to say the least. I do remember part of the reason I don’t have a driver’s license now. It was amusing watching the guys strut and challenge each other to races while we sat on the side of the road. I also think it has been six plus years since I ran from the police in a sports car. Let alone a Mazda Miyata.

But I was also reminded I live in a small town repeatedly. Talking to other people, I found out there was never much to do in Fairfield. So when people weren’t street racing, there used to be a fight club. When they weren’t doing that, there was always drugs and alcohol. To be a small town, there are lots of alcoholics anonymous groups, and plenty of bored people.

And lastly there is always time for cake. I was looking for someway to work this in here, but honestly I couldn’t. I found this picture by way of a porn site, and I thought it was awesome.

http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4042/4276373703_e79f30c693.jpg