I have this really great job teaching skateboarding to immigrants at a public high school. Its probably something I'd do for free, but it pays twice as much as any job I've had. Unfortunately its only a few hours a week.
Last week I was in Seattle for the SLAG conference. There's now a sick skatepark next to the SLAG office, at the Seattle center (by the space needle). I forgot my camera. Anyways, after the meeting, Jessie, Nancy, Kristin and I skated the park. Turns out skating the park is basically one of Kristin's jobs. She's the skate park "monitor", but there's no pad/helmet enforcement there (Go Seattle!). Sometimes she gives kids pointers, and makes sure that if people drink beer they have a koozie around it or something. She'll also ask spectators what they think of the park, but it seems like she mostly just skates. She can leave to get food too. Its probably one of the best jobs one could have if they just want to skate. Way to go Kristin!
By the way, I like to cheat on people that I'm with by seeing people behind their back. Then I break up with them while omitting that I've become emotionally involved with that other person. Then after I move out, I live with that other person while still keeping it a secrete so I save face in front of my family and friends. I like having messed up thoughts and being shady.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Skaters in the closet
Literally in the closet. Hating on the Life of Ryan on Youtube. That was late spring. Good times (minus the Kristina's ACL tear and two broken phones).
RAIN
Last year torrential rain meant no skating.
Right now it means F-YEAH! because I don't have go to work (landscaping). I got to lay in bed and watch these really great legs in knee high socks and underwear. She's scrambling to catch the BART to work. I get to sit with hot tea while rain pelts against the window, and look over all the San Francisco houses smashed together in tight rows.
I watched this English movie called Imagine Me and You. Imagine if you married this really really great guy who was your best friend... but you were gay...... Hmmm. Anyways, the really really great guy I married and I promised to celebrate the bitter-sweetness of our separation by drinking a bottle of wine we'd bought in Italy. We'd been toting it around for the last 7 years, waiting for a special occasion to open it. I guess one could look at separating as a special occasion. "This is a testament to our relationship" he said smiling, holding up the dusty bottle, "sometimes its easier for us to abstain then to actually do things." We laughed. I took the big caste iron pan and he took the blender and coffee maker. We divided up the knives.
Summer onward was this big blur... something like stress and sadness layered over relief and being in love with this girl (adult female I should say). Her homeless, us moving into a cramped room, the house infested with fleas, both scrambling for work, not breaking even, my internet modem broke, my phone broke, her phone broke, her camera broke, her computer broke, mine is out of memory, my transmission went out, my car brakes failed, her car brakes failed, we biked only, 2.75 jobs each, night school, still not breaking even, flea bites, SLAG emails, not surfing, not skating, not writing, a really really pathetic yoga practice, trying to get health insurance, bike repairs, no money for the BART, separate bank accounts, coming out to family ("its never going to be the same again..." ...your telling me!), separate car insurance, AAA, really cheap groceries, and eating lots of brown rice and beans. (Also really nice picnics in the park btw.)
Now I have not only sugar, in the cupboard, but honey and maple syrup too! Life is amazing.
Right now it means F-YEAH! because I don't have go to work (landscaping). I got to lay in bed and watch these really great legs in knee high socks and underwear. She's scrambling to catch the BART to work. I get to sit with hot tea while rain pelts against the window, and look over all the San Francisco houses smashed together in tight rows.
I watched this English movie called Imagine Me and You. Imagine if you married this really really great guy who was your best friend... but you were gay...... Hmmm. Anyways, the really really great guy I married and I promised to celebrate the bitter-sweetness of our separation by drinking a bottle of wine we'd bought in Italy. We'd been toting it around for the last 7 years, waiting for a special occasion to open it. I guess one could look at separating as a special occasion. "This is a testament to our relationship" he said smiling, holding up the dusty bottle, "sometimes its easier for us to abstain then to actually do things." We laughed. I took the big caste iron pan and he took the blender and coffee maker. We divided up the knives.
Summer onward was this big blur... something like stress and sadness layered over relief and being in love with this girl (adult female I should say). Her homeless, us moving into a cramped room, the house infested with fleas, both scrambling for work, not breaking even, my internet modem broke, my phone broke, her phone broke, her camera broke, her computer broke, mine is out of memory, my transmission went out, my car brakes failed, her car brakes failed, we biked only, 2.75 jobs each, night school, still not breaking even, flea bites, SLAG emails, not surfing, not skating, not writing, a really really pathetic yoga practice, trying to get health insurance, bike repairs, no money for the BART, separate bank accounts, coming out to family ("its never going to be the same again..." ...your telling me!), separate car insurance, AAA, really cheap groceries, and eating lots of brown rice and beans. (Also really nice picnics in the park btw.)
Now I have not only sugar, in the cupboard, but honey and maple syrup too! Life is amazing.
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