Following one of the best weekends of my many days, I was struck down by a bout of influenza. I woke up around 4 a.m. Monday morning with a little anxiety about a pain I was having behind my breast bone, above my heart. I had been aware of the pain throughout the night, but it was the wild thoughts of a festering tumor in my chest that eventually pulled me out of bed all flustered and panicky. I immediately began searching the web for a diagnosis of my symptoms. I came to a site that offered just that; and after spending 50 minutes answering over a hundred questions regarding every aspect of my health, I was prompted to enter my credit card number and pay $25 before receiving my professional diagnosis. I was perturbed. But I was thankful that I wasn't some senile old person who was having a truly life threatening occurance. The massive questionaire did calm me down a bit, as I realized that there were a lot of "conditions" that I didn't have, like irritable bowel syndrome or genital warts and the like. Anyway, after searching some more, I willed myself to believe that I was having a very bad case of acid reflux. My symptoms were exactly those associated with the problem; and considering I had basically fasted through several hours of work and a bike ride on Sunday then gorged myself on Pollo Rey, it seemed to make perfect sense-it was definately acid reflux. I'd buy some Tums tomorrow. So I slept better after that. Monday morning, before work, I came to suspect that my poor ol' body was dealing with more than just a little acid reflux. Muscles I hadn't used in a while were sore like I had just spent a day at the gym. Soon after I arrived at work, I knew I shouldn't be there, as my skin became clammy and my entire body was weak. I really really didn't want to relive what I went through last year around this time, so I really really wanted to go home and rest/sleep. Unfortunately, we were already missing an employee that day, which left two regular employees (Sandy and I) and Mike (who is often running errands, and isn't often available to help with customers). Instead of going home to rest and head off the sickness before it got too bad, I worked harder than usual. Whenever there was a lull in business, however, I would sit down and read a magazine with my weary head resting in my hands. When I finally got home Monday I made myself the food item I was first able to eat after suffering through mono last year-mashed potatoes and gravy. Sure enough, I felt better instantly. I drank a lot of water, took a couple acetemenaphin, watched tv, and went to bed early. Before bed, I began to perspire quite a bit, which was reassuring, because I correlate sweating with a fever breaking. In the morning, after a decent night sleep, I felt quite well. Today, I've just tried to take it as easy as possible. I did make a visit to Fern's around 5pm in order to sample her Martha Stewart inspired scalloped potato dish with thyme seasoning. It was excellent and happened to be a form of that food which seems to work so well for me when I'm sick-the tuber. Fern and I went for a walk into the North End to her landlords house in order to drop off her rent check, and then made our way to the Flying M where I bought a chai tea, chocolate chip cookie, and read the paper. It was good to be somewhere I often go when I'm not sick just to help me forget about my current state for a moment. I went home soon after Fern left to meet her sister, who was celebrating her 21st birthday at a downtown bar or two. I spent some time researching music online. I listened to quite a bit of new music on Amazon.com and read several interviews with the Shins and Modest Mouse. I was very surprised to learn that Isaac Brock of Modest Mouse was a huge Shins fan back when the Shins were just upstarts, and that Isaac is more or less responsible for getting them signed with Sub Pop. Its very interesting, because both bands are on the top 5 list, if not top 3 list, of my favorite bands, but before today I had no idea that there was any connection between the two. And their sounds are pretty different.
Anyway, Eric just got home. He asked me if I had felt cold/clamy when I got sick, and I said yes, and then I asked him if he has a sore throat, and he said yes, so now he's worried that he's coming down with the same thing I have, which wouldn't surprise me. The only good news is that this flu seems to be on the verge of ending after only a couple of days. And, of course, I'm pretty sure by now that I don't have a tumor. Which means I'll sleep just fine tonight.

Great weekend. Friday was a beautiful day. A perfect day for staying indoors; cleaning my room, detoxing the bathroom, doing laundry, the dishes, etc. That evening, Fern and I stopped by church, and ate at a new Mexican restaurant downtown. Fine atmosphere and food, just a little too authentic to be tasty.
Saturday was perfect. I slept in before being picked up by Fern and beginning the days adventure. We stopped in at the Flying M and got Mochas to go. The day's main event was next-snowboarding at Bogus Basin. It was a gorgeous, relatively warm day. For the first time we both utilized our very own equipment and passes. It cost us nothing to spend several hours having a blast on the mountain. I became a little concerned about my board selection after having difficulty turning on the first run of the day; but during the second run, down an intermediate slope, my advanced to expert level board felt much more manuverable and at home. I made a decent amount of progress that day, my third time on "the hill". I had several smooth runs with plenty of turns, and had a ton of fun in the process. I left satisfied but knowing that I had a lot I still needed to pick up on. Back home that afternoon, I zoned out in front of the TV for an hour or so, then cleaned up and met Fern (who was running a mild fever) for an evening out. We ended walking around town a bit before catching a movie at the Edwards 9. We watched "Freedom Land", a suspensful murder mystery packed with intense scenes in which Samuel Jackson and Julian Moore flexed their enormous acting muscles. A good film for reasons other than just the acting. Afterwards, we grabbed a bite to eat and consumed some vino at Grenika.
Today I slept in, worked, and met Fern for a Mountain Bike Ride(!). The temperature outside must've been near 51 when we headed out. The wind was brisk and the trails just a smidge muddy, but the ride was great. It was just what we needed. It has literally been months since we last went on a mountain bike ride together. I was impressed with how well Fern rode after all that time. We went our seperate ways after the ride, cleaned up, and met at Pollo Rey for dinner. I ordered two items on the menu-a stuffed carne burrito and a roasted chicken quesadilla-because I was starving from missing lunch (work was busy). After dinner we drove to Barnes n' Nobles where I looked at a couple progressive magazines as well as a few music mags.

Funny thing, I've got nothing to say. Of course, I know that's not true, but it is true that I'm typing this not because I have to get something off my chest. Nor am I feeling compelled to share some amazing new insight into the nature of being human, alive, beautiful, or dead sexy. I'm pretty sure I just like the feeling of my fingers tapping rapidly and rhythmically on the keyboard. And then there's that pleasant tinge of excitement I feel each time I'm about to think into unthought-of territory. Going where none of Josh's brain cells have gone before!(sorry) Actually, 9 times out of 10 I'm probably reitterating something I first scribbled in my journal when I was 14. Who cares. If 10% of the time I think of one idea that is new to me, even if its just one phrase surrounded by a plethora of obvious observations and simple reasoning, then I'm stoked.

Speaking of being excited, what's wrong with me? I get so amped up at work sometimes. Take today. Soon after I got to work I jumped on my bike, rode to the Fish and Game center a half mile away, and purchased two maps of a chunk of southwest Idaho including Boise, the Boise front, Nampa, Caldwell, Melba, Emmett, Horshoe Bend, the Snake River, Marsing, Homedale, Parma, and all of the surrounding area. The aquisition of these maps was something I had been planning to achieve for some time, ever since we created a new sitting area in the corner of the shop. I enjoy showing people exciting routes they can take on their road bikes, so a while back I made the decision that we would buy and display a detailed road map of the area. What's extra cool is that I decided to do it and I did it. My job grants me the freedom to determine what I think needs to be done, and I'm almost always able to do it without objections from the bosses. The entire shop-the largest bike shop in Boise and one of the largest bike shops in the country-is one big project that I get to work on every work day. Making things more organized, efficient, clean, and beautifully displayed sometimes feels like playing a video game. I'm not sure why. It may have to do with the satisfaction I get when each small improvement is made and I can stand back and stare at it, satisfied with the change. Its like making it to the next level. And rarely is a project difficult to accomplish, just like Super Mario Bros-fun!
Anyway, I hope I'm not making anyone sick with all of this "aint my job great" stuff. My job isn't great enough for me to not ask for a raise, which I plan to do in the coming days. Its been over a year since my last one, and I think its only expected and fair that the bosses grant me a 10% increase, especially considering profits were up around 20% since last year. (I wonder if anyone's heard me say that before)
I really hate sounding like a "company man". Its way to easy to become one of those people who seem to live for their jobs. Becoming good at a job is one of the lamer ways to gain a sense of pride, in my opinion. One might begin to rely on their job as their source of pride. If you do something often enough for long enough, you're going to become good at it, but that doesn't mean you're automatically a well rounded, healthy, and happy person. Accomplishing something on the job can be your drug, and you end up not being happy unless you get your fix. And that's not cool. That said, I'm having fun seeing the shop progress with my help. Otherwise, when I'm not at work, I've got other things to think about, talk about, obsess over, and have fun with. Which is funny, because wasn't I just talking about what I did today at work? Ah, screw reason! Logic is so over rated. Let me tell you what else I did today! I called a man about getting some unfolded Ridge to Rivers trail maps. He stopped in and dropped them off. I took them to Kinkos and had them backed with foam core. I reorganized the cyclocomputer area, making more room for all the different models and significantly decluttering things. As a part of that project, I made an organized, easy to use compartment system for our computer accessories. I vaccummed and mopped the corner area. Yeah, and I did some other stuff. I've lost the love for listing things off and talking about work.
I received an informative email from dear ol' Mom today. I learned that it snowed so much in Arkansas that church was cancelled. You'd think that a people who pushed handcarts all the way from Independence, Missouri to the Great Salt Lake could drive their cars through 4 inches of snow two miles to church. Oh right, they might want to avoid another Donner Party cannibalism episode. I also learned that "my sister the lawyer" will have a letter published in People magazine in the March 6th issue. My youngest sister recently came upon an accident on the highway and had to help a man who was injured when his car was struck by a semi. And that's exciting, in a morbid sort of way.
I've been watching the Tour of California on ESPN2 for the last 3 nights. America's best riders-the riders who usually only race in Europe-have all shown up to race in California. Nearly all of them are currently in the top 10 and within a couple minutes of each other in the general race classifications (total elapsed time). Its been great to see professional cycling get such great coverage in the U.S. And I'm sure I'm not the only one who is excited about the possibility of this race becoming bigger and bigger every year.
Wow, apparantly I've got some things to say, but nothing extremely intellectually stimulating. At least those things aren't for me, so I'll guess they aren't for most everyone else reading. I'll abide by the rule that if its not stimulating, you might as well stop it; therefore, goodnight.

I just accomplished a small errand. I rode my bike back to 7/11 in search of my missing wallet. The clerks didn't have it so I began retracing my route home and soon found it in the chiropractor's parking lot. It lay splayed open with my debit and credit cards dislogded. Relieved, I picked it up, stuck it in my jacket pocket, and zipped the pocket closed.
It was dumb riding my commuter bike with a gallon of milk swaying from the handlebar while guiding my road bike along side with my left hand during which my jacket pocket was unzipped wherein resided my wallet. I won't ever do that again.

Today I became annoyed at stupid holidays when I couldn't gain access to the post office to send off the jeans I ordered online which don't fit me. I also worked. Then I sipped a glass and a half of vino at Opa! with Fern. Afterwards we talked about how she used to think that guys' balls were just a reference to the particular anatomy of the schlong, and how I used to think that women gave birth out their butt holes. Of course, we were both like 17 when we thought these things. Just kidding.

I was thinking about something today that fits in perfectly with the mombo jumbo I sometimes write about in this blog. It pertains to the concept of being "alive". Not just "being", but really feeling "alive". I'm sure you already get it, but just to hone in on the idea some more, I'll use a few examples. Some people really feel alive when they go for a good run, or watch the sunset, or camp out, or read a stimulating book, or play with their newborn baby, or whatever. Perhaps this is painting a more generic picture of what it means to be alive than my original thought. I want to zero in on the word "growth". To be alive in the purest sense is to be growing and develping more than you are dying or loosing it, so to speak. Babies and children are very alive in the most obvious physiological ways. They grow like weeds, their metabolisms are on fire, their full of energy. To be alive mentally, there needs to be growth and a relatively high degree of activity in the brain. Mental/cognitive growth is physiological, primarily. When someone learns something new, neurons connect in the brain, new sequences fire off. This process of learning, as far as I know, doesn't diminish as one ages, as long as one activily seeks to learn and do new things. So, there's a couple of obvious ways to be alive in this growing sense-physical, mental-but there's a more common understanding of the sentiment, and that is doing what one is passionate about or what causes one joy. Someone could be old, crippled, and retarded; but if he/she was engaged in activities that he/she truly loved to do, that brought him/her joy, then most would agree that the old crippled retarded shemale (hehe) would be quite alive-perhaps more so than the average person who has no true passions or interests.
This gets me closer to what I wanted to talk about. I guess. I've said that I want to live a passionate life. I suppose that one might imply from everything I've written that my definition of a passionate life, or really being alive, is being and acting sensually, as well as having fun and experiencing new places and things. Its a pretty generic definition of a passionate life that happens to give away my age, I think. From what I can tell, a lot of young people, as well as older people strive to live this way.
I want to take full advantage of my youth and health by utilizing my physical assets through exercise, play, and pleasure-seeking. I want to share my time with someone who is also youthful and energetic. Essentially, seizing the day for me involves really enjoying myself as much as I can by doing whatever it is I want to do. It may sound simple, shallow, and self centered, but its what I wish for every other living being as well-which is a very unselfish sentiment.
A big anyway is overdue. ANYWAY, it has occurred to me on more than one occassion that I could live my life in other ways. Mainly, my thought is that I could devote my life to the study of something like philosophy, or I could spend all of my time composing music. It is sad that life is so short and that there is only one per person. While I wouldn't change a thing about my life right now, I do have SO many interests. I could feel so alive emmersing myself in any one of a plethora of interests I own. The way this utter-devotion-to-something idea differs from the way so many live their lives is obvious. Right now I live like a lot of people do, because I share the same basic philosophy on life as most--enjoying it as much as it can be enjoyed. But I've always said that I don't want to live a conventional life. While I seek after the same enjoyment as others, I believe that I can still lead an exceptional, unordinary life. The hope to do the ordinary things better and more by living smarter. And I'll constantly have an mind and heart trying to steer me towards the things in live that are novel, new, unusual, and unordinary. I'll keep my interest in the mode of living of artists and scholars, that utter-devotion and singular passion, and tap into it whenever I can.
I guess what started this random thinking was the simple feeling that its just too bad we can't live more lives, just to experiment with all the different ways we could live. My life is great, but I still wonder what it would be like to be born in another country during another time. I wonder what it would be like be a reclusive artist in New York City or a philosophy student in Paris. The wondering part is what's exciting. If it were possible for me to magically be someone else somewhere else, I definately would NOT choose to make the change. Its just that sometimes one life doesn't seem like enough.

Hey, great! I didn't let this weekend go by without getting nice and buzzy, er drunk, er whatever. Really, there needs to be another word for drunk that isn't "drunk", cause when I say the word drunk I think of someone who can't walk straight, who slurs his speech, and makes a complete jackass of himself. That's not me. I'm just feeling good. Why can't we call feelin' the alcohol "feeling good", or something along those lines? I've got a good buzz. That's the best way the English language allows me to express the way I'm a' feelin', but somehow it doesn't do it justice.
Let me say that I don't know why Long Island Iced Tea and all its various forms, like the Black Opal, aren't absolutely famous for their ability to do the job, so to speak. The drinks regularly push the $5-7 mark, but their bang for the buck is unmatched. And unlike beer, their "drunk" is quite nice.
So, I just arrived home from "Humpin Hanna's". A quality establishment I've got to admit. Whereas people smoke and converse at the Neurolux, my usual hangout, folks are fun-oriented at Hanna's with the plethora of pool tables, the foozeball, the dance floor, live music, and all. Fern and I played a few rounds of fooseball (who the hell knows how to spell it, and who cares?). I don't know if there's anything that pumps alcohol into the system faster than a fierce game of table hockey. Other than the table hockey and public make out sessions, Fern and I enjoyed a middle school dance to a Cindy Lauper song as sung by Rockie Johnson.
I skipped out on the last 2 hours of work in order to buy a season pass to Bogus Basin for the sale price of $200. Very excited about that. What's extra great about it, is that the pass for next year will gain me access for the rest of this year. So, if I can buy a snowboard, boots, and bindings, it won't cost me a thang to spend a day on the mountain.
I worked to day because I traded a day with Sandy a couple of weeks ago. Work was busy-business is amazing considering its February. Sold a $2500 bike. Customer was grateful for my help, which always makes me feel good.
Inway, that's it. Night.

Oh yes, after getting season passes and before hitting the town, Fern and I created an amazing Tofu Stroganofff; which, since the recipe came from an eclectic vegetarian recipe book, was more like stroganof and a big bowl of simmering vegatabley goodness. We mixed the two together and it was great. Then we took Chester (Jennifer's house-sitting dog) for a walk to Camel's back.

This will be an exercise in brevity as I am tired and wanna go to bed.
Woke up this morning and had a bowl of wheat chex. Went over my list of around a' bout 30 items that I wanted to get done or buy to determine the order in which I would do and buy things. Bundled up with multiple layers. Went to the bank and deposted checks. Went to Albertsons and cashed in about $14 in coins using the Coinstar machine. Road my bike to Garden City to the UPS warehouse to pick up my package-two pair of AG jeans I ordered on-line. To Home Depot in search of a variety of things, including supplies to make a hanging pan holder device for my kitchen. Gave up on the idea and left with several spray bottles of cleansers. Went to Target. Had a hotdog with sourkraute and a Coke at the Target deli. Bought a hyacinth-cented candle, an atomic wall clock, a 3-bulb floor lamp with tall paper shade, large German-made crystal, a fancy corkscrew, and dry-erase markers. Shoved it all in the two packs I brought and rode home very gingerly. Found a place for everything I bought. Cleaned my body and straightened the apartment. Met Jennifer at a house she was sitting. Took dog for a walk. Ate pizza. Drank stuff. Played cowboys n' indians. Or something like that.

Well wasn't it nice to have the old Josh pop in for a visit? It had been a while since I last attempted to bring anything of substance to the table. Its fun to do every now and then. And its totally worth risking making a fool of myself if in the end I either sit back satisfied by the accuracy and skill of my articulation or later I'm able to see some glowing fault in my thinking. Usually, if the latter happens, greater understanding of the subject-usually myself-occurs. And that's always nice.

For example, I sometimes doubt whether I'm justified in idealizing sexuality. When imagining a life that is sexually fueled-where sex, passion, love, and attatchment are all very much interconnected-I sometimes experience a passing feeling that such a life doesn't completely capture what it means to be human. Tentatively speaking, perhaps I'm completely missing out on those feelings associated with family; with being a father, with loving a son or daughter (hey that rhymed), with receiving love and admiration from from my own children. I say this with almost no impetus. I really don't feel a desire to have children at all. If I try, I can imagine having a great time with kids. I think I would be a good father. But the point is I don't care to be, at least that's how I feel right now. And its this lack of interest in something that obviously is a huge deal for everyone else in the world that makes me wonder if I'm a missing out on something emotionally. I don't mean the feelings one has towards their children. I mean some feeling I should have now towards people in general.

I'm totally content with the way I am. By that I mean being obsessed with primarily two people: Jennifer and myself. I'm very much cool with it. When I was wee there must have been just enough social turmoil to lessen my comfort and enjoyment of most things of a social nature. That said, I've had some of the absolutely greatest times of my life doing things with friends. Obviously I don't choose to spend time alone or with Jennifer because I can't go out and have a good time with others. Its a preference thing. By myself I experience peace, comfort, and passion (with music and art) that I can't experience in social situations. With Jennifer, the intimacy of verbal and non-verbal exchanges far exceeds anything I experience alone or with casual friends. Intimacy is something my "soul" has always cried out for (sounds like "arrrrggh" in case you were wondering). Besides the intimacy of our relationship, the joy that Fern radiates by simply being herself is another incentive for spending so much time with her. Ultimately, joy tends to manifest itself as "having fun", and we have plenty of that.

Whether or not a passionate life lacks all of life's emotional rewards is a mystery to me. All I know is that my motivation has been to live a passionate/romantic/fun life. I've yet to feel compelled to dedicate my life to feeding the children. Mother Teresa I am not. Whether I'll someday be a father Josh is a question that can only be answered with time.

If only I had another 5 hours in the day and another 5 hours worth of energy. I'd push back my chair and attack this mess of an apartment with a ninja-like flurry of strikes, throws, and sprints. I'd run around collecting dishes, tossing junk mail in the trash, lofting dirty clothes into the dirty clothes basket, vacumming the floor, wiping down the kitchen counter, putting up CDs, and placing bikes in their proper spots. With my apartment decluttered and deep-cleaned, I could truly relax.

A comfortably lit, clean, cozy home filled with music-a swaying melody, random kicks of bass, and reaching vocals-inspires creativity and action. I'd love to have that right now. The music is playing and I'm feeling a little ball of joy in the middle of my chest. I think I'm feeling inspired. Ryan Adams is singing through the stereo. But while my apartment is a mess, I'm not going to stretch out on the floor and write lyrics, or pull up a chair next to my keyboard and compose a melody. Its just the way it goes.

Two years ago, I sat at this desk and began typing, "Hi, my name is Josh Travis..." as though I were a recovering alcoholic. A new emotional low had struck and I felt as though my mind and life had been derrailled. The events that led up to that moment, when I attempted to regain my sense of self through an objective examination of who I was, wouldn't make for an interesting story. I also doubt that what I went through was very unique. What was unique, I think, was how I dealt with the emotional pain and desperation of the time. I'm glad to say that through patience, self-examination, and most importantly, through serious thought, I've learned so much that I doubt I'll ever have to feel so low again. If that's a little vague, don't worry, its just the nature of segways. Anyway, as a result of those difficult times I arrived at a few conclusions about the ways in which I'll live my life that I've been trying every since to put into practice. Here, let me share a few with you...

On happiness:
First, Since I was a young lad, I've had a hard time coming to terms with the nature of love, lust, and beauty. For example, when I was still a member of the LDS church, I couldn't understand why sex was wrong. As I grew older and began thinking more for myself, I declared that sex was not wrong as long as you loved your partner. By the time I entered my late teens and stopped going to church, I had determined that there was nothing wrong with sex at all; unless, of course, someone ended up hurt. Still, until just a couple of years ago, I couldn't get over the fact that physical beauty sharpened or caused feelings of love. It seemed wrong to feel something so strong and seemingly important based, at least initially, on something as shallow as physical beauty. Well, I think that I've come to terms with this inherent "immorality" of human nature. I've accepted that beauty AND lust AND sex DO affect our deeper feelings towards others. Love, respect, attachment, fondness, friendship, happiness--all that--is still more important that momentary sexual pleasure, but I'm no longer disturbed by the fact that there is such an interdependence/interplay between love, lust, and beauty. I've embraced the marriage of these phenomena; which, in many instances, can exist exclusively from one another. But, the ideal, and I think the natural mode of existence, is for both sentimental and sexual feelings, as well as attraction to beauty, to be embraced all together. The way this conclusion has affected my life is that I take being sexual quite seriously. Most importantly, I strive to feel sexy and I want my partner to feel sexy as well. Feeling sexy means feeling physically and mentally healthy and vibrant. But it also means being keenly aware of your ability to give and recieve pleasure. There's an excitement in that which heightens the experience of living even when you're not in the bedroom. To know that you are desirable, and to desire, is an aspect of living that I will always work to keep. I'm an idealist. I believe that there is no limit to progress, and this applys to sex; which, for me, is another reason to be excited.

My conclusion about the interplay/interconnectedness/interdependence of love, lust, and beauty led me to focus on the importance of a sexual self-perception and feeling, and not so much on the importance of love and beauty because I've always thought highly of love. I've held love higher and apart from sex and beauty. I still find it more important, but I've granted sex and beauty much greater significance, despite the primitive drives of sex and the shallow, unjust pull of beauty. Physical attraction is something we can't turn on and off like a switch. It happens more or less involuntarily. So, in recent years, I've only become more committed to taking care of myself and looking good. I really don't think that its silly or shallow. Its healthy. And it can be a fun hobby, being into fashion and design, and looking forward to becoming more and more fit, more and more stylin'--without sacrificing personality.

Another conlcusion that's changed how I live my life has to do with reconciling passions and priorities in life. This is going to sound cheesy, but I determined a little over a year ago, after some careful thought, that no hobby or work or interest or any other passion should come close to "outshining" your significant other. In other words, your most loved hobby should be your relationship/affair. Instead of spending 4 hours a day building a model train landscape, you should spend that time doing things that in some way contributes to the passion of your relationship. Instead of dedicating oneself to becoming the best lawyer in the state, what if you put that sort of energy into living life passionately--fun, excitement, experience. (have I said "passion" enough already?) You get the point.

Ok, next conclusion. This may sound a bit like the last. It follows from... I'm a devout agnostic. I tend to think that believing in before and after-life or a god is one of the most retarded things you can do. (sorry) Of course, as an agnostic, I've got to include the disclaimer that I remain open to the possibility that an after-life or god exists. Still, there's a possibility that I could win the lottery tomorrow, but that doesn't mean I'm going to quit my job today. Anyway, these are not original or uncommon thoughts. I'd dare say that agnostisism is the fastest growing "religion" in the world. It just doesn't get the recognition or respect it deserves. My non-religion, like most religions, are based on simple axioms from which implications can be derived. Essentially, my beliefs lead me to view life in sober, honest terms. We are young and healthy for only so long. Life is short (or atleast we'll say so right before we die). Death is just around the corner. It could be tomorrow. THEREFORE, (I now present the worlds biggest cliche) we must live for today. We must seize the day. I've gone on and on about this before. Still, for some reason I feel compelled to bring it I think that its an idea that could be taken more seriously, especially among the religious/traditional set out there. I'll remain committed to the motto "carpe diem" for as long as I live, no matter how cheesy I seem whenever the words issue from my mouth. So help me, um... god?

Where oh where have all the chocolate pudding cutie pies gone? Why oh why do I only see fruit filled cutie pies on the shelf at 7-11? Is it possible that the Hostess man stocks the shelves with fresh chocolate pies at the start of the day, and that by the time I absolutely need to satisfy my cutie pie craving at 10pm, other's have walked off with every single morsel of chocolatey, creamy goodness?? If so, its way beyond unfortunate, its tragic.
This morning I woke up somewhat early in order to shave, shower, and get to work in time to sweep and mop the floor before we opened. For some reason, I was thinking that it was Valentines day, so I began formulating plans to send flowers to Jennifer at work. I thought it would be a nice surprise, especially in light of the fact that I don't put much stock in Valentines Day-I think its one of those manufactured holidays that I didn't sign off on; and besides, every day is supposed to be a Valentines Day, right? Well, I'm glad things were just busy enough at work this morning to keep me from carrying through with my plan. Needless to say, I would have felt a little embarrassed if I had sent the flowers on the wrong day.
There was little time to rest at work today. As is often the case, I had to put my lunch on hold half way through in order to help a customer. I sold a $2000 bike which happened to be one of my favorite road bikes, so I felt good about that deal. I also talked with a gentleman (the lingo we choose to use when referring to male customers) for a length of time about the Specialized Roubaix-a full carbon bike that's known for its stable handling and smooth ride-a bike that I felt would be perfect for the RAAM (race across america), which the customer was going to be a part of in June. I talked to this customer until 6:12 or so, several minutes after close, and then rushed over to the Jordan Ball Room at the BSU sub to meet with Fern and listen to a short talk by Seymore Rush (the last name is wrong--don't know why I just forgot), a well known journalist. It was an entertaining and informative talk. I found Seymore to be a likeable fellow, although I was just a little uncomfortable not with the fact that he was biased/partisan, but with the fact that he was extremely biased/partisan while being a journalist. Bush's policies and the horrors of the Abu Grabe torture/shaming episodes deserve even greater outcry and investigation than what Seymore has done---I'm just saying that sometimes an extremely one-sided, passionate position expressed in opposition just seems kinda dumb to me. Preaching gloom and doom is soooo Republican AND Michael Moore, if that makes any sense. Its not attractive.
Anyway, afterwards, Fern and I walked to Winco and picked up some meat on which to poor Stubs BBQ sauce. At her home, we cooked up the pork chops, some brussel sprouts with houlendaise, and un-deluxe macaroni and cheese. A great meal, for sure. That's all.

Yesterday's post is and isn't the sort of thing I'm going for. Yeah, late in life I want to be able to remember the things I did when I could do anything, when my body could take it and my heart did not fear it; but presenting just the facts does little to reproduce my life. I've got to remember to share some thoughts and feelings. Moreover, I'm hoping to sharpen my vision, my ability to observe the little joys and humor of day to day life. Fern is great at that.
So, the day started with a lack-luster wardrobe-induced anxiety attack. The jeans I chose to wear to work had come out of the dryer so shrunken that I felt like Joey Ramone after putting them on. I believe that noone should rock the painted-on jeans look unless they are indeed a rock star, or a female, and even then, its not always the best move. Later at work, after the jeans had stretched out a bit, I realized that I was happy with the fit. Jeans that are too tight work much better for me than jeans that are too baggy. The latter is unacceptable.
Now that I've revealed to the world that I'm a shallow self-centered fashion fiend for the umpteenth time, let me tell you about the rest of my day. Before work, I managed to bend my legs in my tight jeans just enough to pedal down to the Flying M and have a mocha with Jennifer. As usual, we engaged in good humored Joshifer banter that doubles as a comedy bit for anybody within earshot. Sometimes I'm amazed that folks nearbye remain composed, pretending to read their books or papers, when the two of us are on a roll.
Work was busy. I felt particularly outgoing and articulate with customers, riding a small wave of motivation after my trip to Specialized. The Specialized professors demonstrated a level of professionalism, knowledge, and enthusiasm that was above what I was accustomed to, and it was a great inspiration for me. I came away from the experience clearly seeing how success in business and sales has so much to do with the attitude you project when dealing with people. You want to demonstrate confidence, concern, and passion. I put some of this wisdom to use today. It was great practice. By the way, I will not rest until I reach ultimate perfection and enlightenment and am translated directly to the kingdom of heaven. I'm kidding.
After work, Fern gave me and my new set of Powerblock weights a ride home from the shop. I'm excited about the weights. They are essentially two sets of dumbells, from 10 to 45 pounds. But each set is integrated into a large block, and the weight is selected by moving a pit from slot to slot. Both 10-45lb sets sit on a custom 3 foot high stand that takes up no more than two square feet of my living room floor. Its such an easy to use, ergonomic, streamlined set up, that I think I'll actually use it. I will not stop lifting until I look like Sly Stalone in Demolition Man. I'm kidding.
So, I worked out for about an hour. Then I cleaned up the house a bit and had dinner. Later, Fern picked me up and we went to Barnes n' Nobles and selected several travel books about San Francisco and got comfortable. That's about all.

I'm back in Boise, feeling as though life is returning to normal. The strict schedule-related stress of the trip is all but gone, and I'm nearly caught up on sleep. Since stepping off the plane yesterday, into the brisk winter air of a non-mediterrainian climate, I've fervently sought out the comforts of home. First, I dove into bed in an attempt to recover the massive amounts of energy I lost while sitting on my butt for so damned long. Seriously, travel is almost as bad as shopping when it comes to draining one's living essence. Curled up in bed, surrounded by the familiar, I managed to fall in and out of sleep for about two hours. Its funny how not quite sleeping sometimes has much the same effect as sleeping. I crawled out of bed somehow feeling reinvigorated and took a long shower. Fern came over for pizza and a chat that evening.
Today, I met Fern for a mocha at the Flying M. We walked through downtown afterwards, stopping in the Lux, a used clothing store; Renewal, a consignment furniture store; and the Idaho Historical Museum-also a place with a plethora of old stuff on display. We had lunch at Mai Thai, Boise's best Thai restaurant. Then, after a break at Fern's apartment, we hopped on the Tandem and toodled down the greenbelt to veteran's park. We played at the park (what else would one do at a park?) and rode to the theater to view Munich (a predictable movie with distastefully graphic scenes that was somehow made acceptable by a powerful male sexual presence...am I right?) It was a frigid ride home in the dark along a fast flowing Boise river. Back at Fern's, the two of us warmed up and wound down, then went our seperate ways.

And those are the facts, only the facts. Its all you'll get today, as I'm dead tired. Goodnight.

I'm not going to brag about the weather here in Morgan Hill, California. Its not like I'm responsible for it. But damn, its nice. It reminds me of why I nearly moved here. Today it was 74 degrees and sunny.
Its Wednesday. I've been here since Monday night. The majority of my time has been spent sitting in a chair in a "classroom" listening to a "professor" tell the class all about Specialized products. The experience has been made bearable by the free caffeinated bevarages, my doodling, and the occasional new bit of information thrown my way.
For the last two days, my roomate and I have received wake-up calls at 6:20 am. I don't think the wake-up call dude understands that I prefer to get out of bed 10 minutes before I'm supposed to be somewhere so that I can run around in a panic while skipping breakfast. Alas, I've been getting up on time and choosing a breakfast from a number of healthy, freshly made options; like scrambled eggs, waffles, toast, bacon, fruit, milk, juice, sausage, and so on. Weird, I've discovered that a nice breakfast is an incentive for waking up.
Yesterday, we students did a "no-drop" ride on $5000 to $7000 road bikes. A no-drop ride is a ride in which nobody gets dropped. Usually that means that the pace is slow n' pleasant. Funny thing was that our Specialized escorts dropped the hammer as soon as we left town. By the end of the ride, 6 out of 30 people had survived together to the finish, 3 of which were Georges riders. It was a blast.
Today, the class crowded into oversized vans and headed to a large field/hill in order to ride $4000+ mountain bikes on newly cut trails. The trails were rather boring. The sole entertainment we received came about when one of our more cocky "professors" thought that he was going to drop off of a ramp 5 feet to the ground and immediately catch another jump of 5 more feet or so. The drop off was beautiful, perfect form and all. What happened next was tragic, as he missed the second jump, burried the bike into the ground, and threw himself ass over teakettle several times before coming to a stop. He got to his feet soon enough-an action that was accompanied by some reassuring applause by the whole of of the class-but only a moment passed before I heard someone remark about the blood gushing down his white shirt. Then, it was apparant that something wasn't quite right with his nose/face area. From a distance, I declared confidently to all those near enough to hear me that he broke his nose. Moments later I felt concerned enough to ride down the hill to see if I could help, at which point I learned that while crashing, Gabes forehead just above an eyebrow had been gashed open by the jagged end of his own cycling glasses during the time in which his face met the ground. Everyone looked at Gabe, and then at each other, and agreed that stitches were going to be needed. A lot of them.
Anyway, it was neat. But sad for Gabe of course.
More later, maybe.

It was a big day on the hill. Fern, Eric, and I snowboarded for atleast 4 hours, if not 5. It was a beautiful day-blue sky, bright sun. It was soooo fun. Pure unadultered fun. Its a really simple thing. It defies analysis or elaboration. I went up, I went down. I turned this way, I turned that way. I fell, I flew. What else do you need to know? All in all, way more fun was had than harm, although every now and then I'd have a painful fall. My hands took the most abuse. I accidently caught air and landed on my tailbone. But I think I was too thrilled by my own progress to let a little pain get me down.
The other news of the day is my poor diet. Donuts, coffee, string cheese, apple juice, fries, onion rings, pudding, toast, and cereal. What the!? I'm paying for it now. I feel feverish and naseous and weak, although better than I did a half hour ago.
Finally, I'm flying to California tomorrow to attend Specialized Bicycle University at Specialized headquarters south of San Jose. There, I'll go on amazing bike rides with the owner and employees of my favorite bicycle company. I'll be there to attend classes, or clinics, on specialized products and salesmanship. I'm looking forward to it but I'm also sorry to leave Fern for 4-5 days. It'll be a change of routine to say the least.

12:40 am. After a night on the town. Just a little drunk.
The day's activities began with meeting Jennifer at Function. Yesterday, I received a call from the proprietor of the establishment informing me that two new models of Citizen (of Humanity) jeans had just arrived (yes, I'm now on the Function call list). This was my motivation for visiting the high-end clothing store today. Jennifer's motivation was the possibility of finding a hip t-shirt to spend her gift certificate on. It was raining as we met up and entered the store. I found the new jeans comfortable but rather boring. Jennifer found nothing to blow her certificate on. We left and sought out a Flying M mocha. Unfortunately, everyone else in Boise loves Flying M on Saturdays, so every seat in the hause was taken and Joshifer could not engage in the desired day-off M experience that we had been hoping for. We waited, got a slice o' pie at Guido's next door, and tried again. Again, every sitting spot in the M was taken. So, we made our way to the corporate giant Starbucks a couple blocks away. With our mochas in hand, Fern wrote in her journal while I read more on the dysfunctional reasoning behind marxist philosophy. Next, we trotted down to the Book and Gift store and read fashion and music magazines. BTW, I'm only becoming more and more metrosexual the older I get. Being fashion conscious is fun. Anytoot, after all that, Fern and I went our seperate ways, as has been our habit on full days together-to take a break, a nap, or whatever in the middle of the day so we can reboot, so to speak. We rebooted, and a couple hours later I met her at her apartment for some R&R. Then, it was on to Savors. On the way there Fern told me about Brangelina's tatoos and related topics. I listened while marveling at the western sky, which after sunset had turned a pasty yellow beneath a band of black clouds with wisps of grey. Stunning really. At Savors I hunted for a cool suit jacket (preferably grey), a hipper bag than the messenger bag I carry, and pasta holders. As is so often the case, I left Savors empty handed, although I almost bought a brownish pcoat. At the last second I decided that the coat only served to make my small head look really, really small above the coats broad shoulders, collar, and overall fit. Good call, I thought. (I always feel good when I'm able to determine why something isn't good enough for me) After that experience, we went to Ross. Ross is one of those places that can make you sick with all of its diabolical pieces of clothing, yet a wonderful gem sometimes pops up among all the shit. This is why one visits Ross. Tonight, Jennifer struck gold. She purchased a pair of sexy red pumps for something like $9.00. She also found a hip hat for like $6.00. I also lucked out, buying a 2 CD collection of Johny Cash hits for $7.00 and a 10 CD set of The Greatest Classical hits. I love Cash and I love classical music. Up until today, I just haven't owned much of either. So yay for me and yay for Jennifer for her two aquisitions. After Ross, we stopped by TJ Max in search of red curtains for Jennifer's apartment. We didn't find any, but we had a pretty nice shopping experience anyway. TJMax always has interesting things to look at, even if I always walk away not buying anything. After the Max, Fern and I took care of our hunger issue at Wendy's. Its rare for us to eat fast food, but tonight we were all about business, for we wanted to continue the nights festivities while we still had energy for it. We drove back to Fern's, modified our attire slightly, and walked to the Balcony downtown. When we arrived, Fern realized that she left her wallet at home (she is a leaver of things), so I volunteered to run back and grab it for her (she wore the pumps she bought today, so she wasn't able to run around all that comfortably). I did so, we entered the Balcony, ordered drinks, and began feeling really good. The outward manifestation of us feeling good at a dance club is an overabundance of making out, as well as getting freaky on the dance floor whenever the DJ plays something nasty. An observer may find the scene stimulating or hilarious, either way, we don't care because its all good fun. I had a long island ice tea, a sex on the beach, a vodka colins, and half a cosmopolitan. Needless to say, I felt great. Fern drank vodka colins and cosmos. She was loving life as well. We got our freak on out on the dance floor for a few songs, but mostly we watched other more "interesting" people shake their groove thangs. Then we walked to her apartment. I borrowed her bike and rode it home. That's all. Good day.

Another day seized and another night of sleep to look forward to. Aint life great! By the way, it hasn't been often in my 30 years that I could say such a cheeseball thing, so I feel that I should be granted an unlimited allowance for further exclamations of appreciation (ouch, that was reaching for a sentiment...). For most of my life its been the cool thing to have a shitty attitude about the people and things in my world. Even today, with things just dandy before the jihad starts, I sometimes feel the need to pontificate from time to time, just for good measure. All in all though, ranting is so 1990s, and being the fashion conscious person that I am, I refrain from it as much as I can. Now, whenever I go on about christians, muslims, jews, neorealists, consumers, patriots, drivers, or whoever, I quickly find myself thinking "I should probably go do something productive or fun or something..."

Today, I was Jenniferless for a few hours, so I sent off payment for some bills and cleaned up the kitchen/desk some. Then, I picked up (yes, picked up) Jennifer at work and we rode the tandem to Pollo Rey for lunch. Then I went home and took care of a few more errands, including shaving my face, which for me is something of a painful ordeal 'cause my beard is thick and my razor may be a tad dull. When Jennifer got off work, I followed her home where she changed into something less work formal, then we set off on a tandem ride in the unseasonably warm weather (52). It was an extremely fun ride, what with Fern and I being ourselves n' all. Towards the end of the ride, we both noticed a slight vacany growing in our tum-tums, so we took a detour to Chili's and dined on chips, salad, steak fahitas, and molten chocolate cake. uuuYummy!! Satisfied, we went to her place, chilled out a bit, and left for Barnes n' Nobles. For on hour or so, I read GQ, Esquire, and like magazines, while Fern checked the latest on Bragelina (Brajolie??huh?) THEN, at about 9:20, we left to catch a movie at the northgate? reel theater on Franklin. We saw "The Family Stone", featuring Sarah Jessica Parker, which was just hilarious enough to like and not despise. Now, Eric is reading me excerpts from John Stewarts book "America", which is a masterpiece. I'm hungry. Thanks to Corry for the big bowls. I'm about to use one to eat me some cereal. Goodnight all.

First, let me say that Ryan Adams is not the same as Bryan Adams. Then let me say that Ryan Adams is the opposite of Bryan Adams. Ryan Adams is good. And I like him a lot. Perhaps its more accurate to say that I like his music a lot. I've never met the guy. Who knows? Maybe beneath that mop of unwashed hair is a nice guy? But its just as likely I'd end up wanting to punch him in the face. If I met them both, maybe I'd avoid Ryan and enjoy hangin out with Bryan. Its hard to say. The only thing I can say for certain, the only thing that cannot be disputed, is that Ryan Adam's songs makes me feel more human and alive than any other artist's. For those who do not know me and my elitist approach towards choosing that which I listen to, let me reassure you that the last statement is meant to be profound. Its supposed to imply something about Ryan Adam's music. That it is good. Really, really, good.
Now that that retarded bit is over with, about my day.
Today, eh hem, was another productive one at work. Did some inventoring (that a word??). Did some stockage. Just about finished my tire reorganization project. I had plenty of energy, though my back got ache-ier and ache-ier as the day went on. Lunch was cottage cheese with pineapple chunks and various little snacks. Breakfast wasn't so healthy--coffee, turkey cheese hot pocket thingy, and minidonuts (I was in a hurry and picked up breakfast at 7-11)
I brought a sexy outfit to work and changed into it right before closing. Then it was off to the Flying M for some quality time with Jennifer. The M's walls are covered in valentine inspired artwork of all kinds. They are being auctioned off silently and the proceeds are going to, um, breast cancer, er, aids research and stuff.....?? After looking it over, Fern and I rode our bikes to her apartment and cooked pasta for dinner. ...That was pretty much the evening. It was quality. (Brevity due to rush to get to bed)
I don't remember a whole lot about yesterday. Its probably because not much happened. I'm pretty sure I sold 3 bikes. Also, I spent most of the evening doing laundry, dishes, throwing things away, and cleaning my kitchen. I did watch an extremely cool program about the planning and execution of an amazing ride down a 1500 foot cliff, essentially, by a Specialized sponsored freeride mountain biker. It was a surprise to see something about mountain biking on tv, let alone an entire program. Very entertaining.
That's all.