Finjuries

As it turns out, finjuries aren't just for people. I got a call from the Board Medic last night telling me that my fin box is loose. I guess when Bluepath's fin hurt me, I hurt it, too. Sounds like a dysfunctional relationship. So they're going to replace the fin box. Poor Bluepath... one operation after another!

I'm sitting in the dentist's waiting room right now waiting to get my chipped tooth fixed.

Yesterday, under Johnny's instructions, I climbed the orange route without using the side wall at all... twice. It was not easy... but what it was was definite progress.

Sent from my BlackBerry device on the Rogers Wireless Network

Douche vs. Colostomy

I've never understood why "douche bag" is an insult... why not call someone a colostomy bag? It makes much more sense. One holds cleaning solution, the other shit. Seems to me to be a no-brainer.
Sent from my BlackBerry device on the Rogers Wireless Network

Still sleep deprived, apparently.

Note: I fell asleep while composing this yesterday, so I'm back dating it for midnight +1 minute.

-----

I tried to come up with a list of surf injuries for this season, but I had trouble compiling the list... possibly because I suffered a level 1 concussion on Wednesday when I dinged my board with my skull.

I know that there's a chip on my right central incisor (getting it fixed Wednesday morning)... there's a hard, longish bump on the front of my right tibialis anterior (a "finjury")... there's still a sore spot on the left side of my jaw... there is a collection of big bruises on the insides of both arms... there's a big bruise on the inside of my left thigh... my left ear has taken to ringing and my right ear just plain hurts...

One thing that I've noticed though... is that all the pain is coming from getting whacked and not from over-exertion... this can be interpreted as progress... I've been surfing so much that my arms and back don't get sore now unless they get whacked... progress! If I could figure out which waves to go for and when so as to avoid getting whacked... that would be even more progress.

I loaded my 11' NSP into the car today... and went and got a thermal rash guard thing to keep warm... both my winter wetsuits are super holey... and the shop hasn't received their shipment of winter suits yet. I don't shop around... so I have to stay warm and wait. I didn't go out for a surf tonight though... I checked a few beaches, but the onshore wind was pretty strong... besides which, I didn't have Bluepath... so I went for a climb.

It had been over a week since I've climbed... I was the only one there... so the climbing gym dude belayed me... and gave me step by step instructions on two very familiar routes. His instructions made those routes so difficult that I couldn't do them... in fact, it made them so difficult (and me so tired) that even when he told me to do my own thing, I kept getting lost and stuck, like I would on difficult routes that I had never been able to do. I had no more strength in my hand grip by the end of the session. So I guess I have to keep going... and often... until like Beowulf, my hand grip has the strength of 30 men.

During my short trip to Victoria earlier this month, I noticed that hoodies are not that common an article of clothing-- very few people, in fact, wear hoodies. I used to know this... but having sartorially acclimatized myself to Tofino, I had forgotten that hoodies are, in North America, commonly considered the outerwear of choice for skaters, surfers, and criminals, rather than something owned and worn by a majority of the population, such as, let us say, a sweater. Ever since I remembered this detail about the hoodie-free world in which I used to live, I have been mentally transposing hoodie wearers into various other environments, with great comic effect. Picture a big mechanical arm coming out of the sky, picking up five people in hoodies from downtown Tofino, and dropping them at the intersection of Pender and Thurlow... the mechanical arm notwithstanding, this would turn heads-- half the hoodies would be on age and income inappropriate people. I am performing these and other mental exercises in order to not get too lost in the far, far away planet of Tofino. Always ask... "how would this look at the corner of Pender and Thurlow?"... normal here isn't normal elsewhere... it's good to try and remember.

Back at the medic's

Bluepath is at the Board Medic getting looked after. Remember how I said I got whacked in the head on Wednesday, and that it really hurt? Well, as it turns out, I totally dinged Bluepath with my skull. I'd forgotten all about checking for dings (just never had to, for all of these years)... and today, while I was being slow, DCMS was checking out the Bluepath. He wanted to see the repairs that Stefan did last time, when I dropped my board on gravel... and then he found this huge ding! At first, I wondered where the ding came from... but upon closer examination (and you can see this if you click on the photo)... there was a hair caught in the broken glass in that ding! So DCMS helped me tape it up and we went for a surf... I caught one super awesome ride that was so fast, I couldn't walk to adjust where I was on the board, I hopped.

When Stefan saw the ding, he pressed on it, and found the whole ding to be mushy. He's apparently going to have to backfill it, and put on new cloth. I don't know exactly what that means... but he tells me that my head actually went into the board when it hit... the foam bounced back, but the glass is all broken and delaminated. He was really surprised that I wasn't knocked out. Apparently I have a hard head... I guess that's not news, is it?

Bad Wife

Remember how I said I had to check for dings? I didn't! I forgot all about it... and today, DCMS was looking at Bluepath and pointed out this huge ding, which he helped me tape up.
Sent from my BlackBerry device on the Rogers Wireless Network

Car le monde et les temps changent

ULTE1 parked on my driveway today. In the two years, eleven months, and twenty-seven days since I met him... he had never once parked on my driveway. I was a little surprised, and asked him whether there weren't other parking spots... he seemed amuse by my comment.

Maybe it means absolutely nothing, and he gave it no thought... but somehow, this goes against my understanding about where we park our cars. Sure, I park in his driveway all the time... but I don't have five million of my friends living on his street and driving by his well-treed house twenty times a day.

I was sufficiently neurotic about this turn of events that DCMS is now crediting himself with having upset the delicate balance of my ULTE with ULTE1, which appears to me to be a skull-sized kingdom's ruler's assumption-- I doubt that ULTE1 pays enough attention to notice... and am attributing this to the cyclical oscillations that are inherent in LTEs.

The Perfect Excuse...

We are one another's soul mates, but due to circumstances beyond our control, we could never be together; we will therefore remain alone for the rest of our days, subsisting on the knowledge that we are profoundly and steadfastly connected by the most intense and perfect love. It's very Héloïse and Abélard.

Blargh!

It's an old story and a bad one. Why do so many insist upon it? To become more comfortably ensconced in our tiny, skull-sized kingdoms? To justify being uniquely, completely, imperially alone, day after day?

By definition, if it doesn't work, it isn't perfect. So let's just all move on already. I shall repeat this to myself during my surf session tonight-- the only thing that's perfect in this type of set up is the excuse.