Failure.

I started with a few drinks, some zip ties, a donated pair of Truck Nutz, and a burning desire to embarrass my friend Becky:

I waited till she went to bed and then set to work on Operation Blue Balls. Fortunately she parked her car outside that night instead of in the garage, so I had a lot more room to move around. Then I worried because at first, I couldn't find a good spot on her VW Passat to hang her balls from. I guess there aren't too many people hanging plastic testicles on that particular model of car. In the end, I had to use a lot of zip ties, but I got the job done:


I left Becky's house the next morning feeling pretty good about what I had done. However, my joy would not last. I received the following e-mail from her just a few hours into the day:

Ha! I told you once that I had beans so I didn’t need a set of blue balls, thanks for thinking of me.

Now I know why you wanted those damn zip ties so bad!

I’m guess you did it last night so your triumph was short lived. It was barely light out this morning when I made my way to McDonalds and when I couldn’t go thru the drive thru with the bikes on the car I had to go in. That was my saving grace….due to my piggy-ness I discovered your tasteless joke. I saw it immediately when I left the restaurant and fortunately, I had a pair of scissors with me for today’s event so I immediately cut the offending sphere from my car. No one saw me, you were foiled in your devious trickery.

Vengence will be mine!!!!

Vengeance is hers, failure is mine.

Winter? No thanks.

I realize that winters in Arkansas are relatively temperate and that it doesn't get all that cold, but still, it gets cold. So when some dealers asked me to come down and do events in Florida in the middle of January, I gladly accepted. I was pretty stoked to be wearing shorts and flip flops my first two days here, but now we're going through a bit of a "cold snap" so it's only been in the low 60's the last couple of days. That's okay though. I'll take low 60's over low 40's any day.

All three of my events this week are in the Tampa area, so instead of shelling out for three nights in a hotel, I pitched my tent at Fort DeSoto County Park. I'm gonna go ahead and say that of all the places I've camped thus far, this one is my favorite. Really all it's missing is a good mountain bike trail. Yesterday I paddled around a bit and then rode my bike around a little.

My sweet bike kickin' it on a sweet beach.

The view from my campsite.

My campsite from the water.

This morning I decided I didn't really feel like riding since it was hella windy, but I remembered seeing some signs on the way into the park referring to some "historic fort." I thought it would probably be stupid, but I had some time to kill, so I figured I might as well go check it out anyway.

Turns out, it was really cool. There were all kinds of signs and stuff, but all you really need to know is that this was a sweet fort. It sits right on the point of the island and there's some huge ass guns. These guns could launch 1000 lb projectiles 5 miles out into the gulf. Pretty impressive for the early 1900's if you ask me.

Huge guns. I did resist the urge to straddle them, but that's really only because I was by myself.

The pier from the top of the fort.

Another view from the top of the fort.

The fort was definitely worth the half hour I spent walking around it. Apparently there's a canoe trail around the park somewhere, so I'm hoping to locate that tomorrow and do some more paddling. Oh, and the raccoons there are the most fearless raccoons I have ever encountered. Those little bastards were walking across my campsite with no disregard to my personal space.

Before I go, here's a funny photo from this weekend's event. I'm not exactly sure what Troy is trying to tell his dog, but I'm gonna be pissed if my tiger gets violated:

You should also check out my appearance in my pal Chris's blog. I'm flattered that she thought my e-mail response to her was blog-worthy. I was really tired and irritable when I wrote it. Speaking of Chris, doesn't she look a little bit like a Wookie in this picture?

Chris, if you had a really hairy face, you'd be a dead ringer for Chewbacca.

Well kids, I've spent far too much time not working today, so I'd better get back to it. Don't feel bad for me though. Work is actually quite pleasant when your office looks like this:

Short and Sweet.

I don't have a lot of time, so you're getting another random list. Mostly I just want to be able to say that I blog more than Sarah does.

• I had a fabulous week in Wisconsin to start off the New Year. Except the weather sucked.
  
• I found my party dress and I'm pretty stoked about it.
  
• I've slept in my own bed a lot lately and I'm seriously going to miss it. My flannel sheets are killer.
  
• I have not ridden my bike in the last three weeks.
  
• I schooled my cousins on some Guitar Hero action.
• I am officially a college student again. I managed to get enrolled at NWACC so I can finish the ONE STUPID CLASS I need to complete my degree.
  
• Pip is totally talking on the phone while he's pooping right now. GROSS.
  
• Speaking of Pip, his dog brutally murdered someone's cat. I found the half-eaten rotting carcass in the front yard. It had a collar on and everything! Also GROSS.
  

Sorry for the crappy post. As usual, I am behind schedule on leaving for a trip. I had every intention of leaving my house at 6:00 this morning. Now it's 1:00pm and I still have to pack before I can leave.

More later.

Insert New Year's Cliche Here.

I don't really have much to write about, but I figure that a new year deserves a new post. I hope you're not expecting to read about my New Year's resolutions because I didn't make any. I'm also not going to eat black-eyed peas today. Someone told me that eating black-eyed peas would be good luck, but I think that's a load of horse shit. I didn't eat ANY black-eyed peas at all in 2007, much less on New Year's Day, and I had a stellar year! I didn't kiss anyone at midnight and I didn't sing Auld Lang Syne while toasting with champagne. You could say I'm an unceremonious bitch.

I will mention a quick follow up to my last post, though. My little sister was deeply touched by the moving letter that I painstakingly crafted for her on her birthday. She was so touched, in fact, that for Christmas, she bought me some yarn and glitter glue so I could finally have the ornament-making experience that she so unwittingly robbed from me 19 years ago.

So anyway, I guess I should end this with something ... inspirational to ring in the new year. Instead of going out tonight, I stayed home. Long story short, I was a bit ill and I have to leave for Wisco early in the morning. So I was cleaning my room instead of drinking a lot and repeatedly exclaiming how awesome 2007 was. In a pile of business cards and old receipts I found a worn out folded up piece of paper with my handwriting on it. I wrote this quote on this scrap of paper about a year and a half ago. I was "between jobs" and was pretty anxious about where to go from there. I had a hell of a lot of time on my hands back then, being unemployed and all, so I read a lot. I remember reading this one paragraph. Then I read it again. And again. Then I thought about it all the time, but it was long, so I could never remember exactly what it said. So I copied that paragraph onto some scrap paper and I carried that paper around in my pocket for over six months. This is what it said:

You are so young; you stand before beginnings. I would like to beg of you to have patience with everything that remains unsolved in your heart. Try to love the questions themselves. Do not now look for the answers. They cannot now be given to you because you could not live them. It is a question of experiencing everything. At present you need to live the question. Perhaps you will gradually, without even noticing it, find yourself experiencing the answer some distant day. Perhaps you are indeed carrying within yourself the potential to visualize, to design, and to create for yourself an utterly satisfying, joyful, and pure lifestyle. Discipline yourself to attain it, but accept that which comes to you with deep trust, as long as it comes from your own will, from your own inner need, accept it and do not hate anything." - Rainer Maria Rilke

I stopped carrying it around when I moved back to Arkansas almost exactly a year ago. I guess I thought I didn't need it anymore. I thought I'd found my answers, but now I'm realizing that the questions have changed and that it's still pretty useful advice.

Great. Just great. Now I've managed to write something reflective on New Year's Day. I guess I'm not a completely unceremonious bitch.

A Birthday Letter to My Little Sister Johnna

Dear Little Juana:

I don't think I've ever told you this, but you really pissed me off the day you were born. You came poking out of our mom on a Sunday morning. It was the Sunday morning that we were supposed to be making Christmas ornaments in Sunday school. So that morning, when Dad came rushing into our room in his tighty-whities, I thought he too was really stoked about going to church to make ornaments. Then he started saying some crap about having to go to the hospital and some water breaking. I didn't get it. Then Lynette told me I didn't have to put on my church clothes because "the baby is coming." Then I got it. Then I realized that there would be no Sunday School that morning. More importantly, I realized that there would be no ornament making. They had told us about the ornament making the week before and I had spent all week thinking about how killer my ornament was going to be. So yeah, I was pissed.

I admit, my anger toward the little sister I didn't even know yet was briefly subdued when the nurses treated Lynette and me like rock stars. They gave us cookies and pudding and soda and entertained us while we waited for you to do your thing (which took forever, by the way). I'll also admit that I forgot about the ornaments in the days following your premier appearance. You could even go as far as to say that I was excited about having you around ... until the following Sunday.

Since I had forgotten about the ornaments, I arrived at Sunday School expecting the usual: some coloring, some singing, some games, and hopefully some tasty snacks. Imagine my dismay when I walked in and saw all the really sweet ornaments my classmates had made. I felt even worse when my friends described to me how exactly they made these fabulous works of art. They had mixed up some glue stuff in some bowls. Then they added some glitter to the glue stuff. Each kid got to pick what color glitter he or she wanted! They could even mix colors! After that they blew up small balloons. They dipped this weird yarn into the glitter-laced glue stuff and then wrapped that around the small balloons. This yarn part was repeated several times. They let the sparkling glue-soaked yarn dry for awhile. All week, to be exact. That's right. They weren't even done with the ornaments when I got there that Sunday. That's how awesome these ornaments were going to be. They took a week to make! So I got to WATCH everyone else gleefully complete the final steps. They used pins to pop the little balloons. Then they pulled the deflated balloons out of the rigid yarn-webbed structures. Imagine this with me, Juana: cute little Ross with big brown eyes on the verge of overflowing with sorrowful tears watching the happy laughing kids pop balloons. Imagine how I felt when all the kids started saying "Look at mine!" with pride and wonder in their voices. Can you see why I was so mad at you? Clearly my disgust with you was justified.

I've decided that 19 years is long enough for time to heal my wounds. So, for your birthday, I'm giving you my forgiveness. I know, it's really noble of me, but this is your day, so let's focus on you. Even though you were too concerned with crying, pooping, and sucking Mom's boobs to realize how you robbed me of a little glittery part of my childhood that day, I forgive you. I know you wanted an iPod for your birthday, but you can always just ask Dad for one of those. I'm not saying Dad couldn't buy you my forgiveness, but it would be pretty expensive and I don't think Dad loves you that much. You don't have to worry about that though, because I forgive you. Happy Birthday!

Love,

Ross

PS. Just kidding! I did get you an iPod! I mailed it to Mom and Dad's house.

PPS. Oh, and just kidding about Dad. He probably loves you a lot.

PPSS. I love you, Juana, and I am very proud of you.

Don't Look Down.

Last week I found myself yearning for a good long ride on some smooth flowy singletrack. I'd had several conversations with various people in the few weeks prior about the Womble, so I decided it was well-past time to hit up the central Arkansas epic. I can always rely on Little Newt to be up for a good time, so I gave him a ring and pretty soon we'd formulated a plan.

6:00 Saturday morning came not so bright, but early nonetheless. I woke up discouraged at how cold and wet it was outside. I started to doubt the weather channel's prediction for a warm dry day, but then I remembered that we were going three hours to the south, which can mean a huge difference as far as the weather goes. I drove the boring and uneventful two hours down to Russellville to pick up Newt, and then we headed down another hour to Mt. Ida. The whole drive down we worried about the foggy, wet, cold sky that didn't seem to want to cheer up. Finally, when we were within about ten minutes of the trailhead, the fog lifted and the temperature started to climb.

By the time we got out of the car, the temperature had made it all the way up to 64 degrees. In Arkansas. In December. Go figure. So we took off with high hopes, short sleeves, and lots of water. The first two miles sucked. It was mostly climbing. Fat kids hate climbing. Then we got to the river bluff section, which I didn't remember being so treacherous. There were a few sections of trail no more than a foot wide with a mountain on one side and an intimidating abrupt drop off on the other.

That's when I had to remind myself of some solid advice I hear often: don't look down. It really is good advice and has served me well in many a tough situation. I just wanted to give everyone a little reminder, whether you need it or not. So, whether you're riding along a tall bluff, standing on the edge of a major change in life, or reluctantly relieving yourself in a Port-a-Potty, just remember those three words: Don't. Look. Down.

We rode for awhile on some fast soul-warming singletrack before we finally decided that it was going to be a long ride back. So we stopped, ate some crackers, and rode back. After over four hours of pedaling, we made it back to the car. According to my dashboard, it was 70 degrees out. 70! Then, after not more than 15 minutes, the temperature dropped to 65 and continued dropping with each northbound mile. The fog came back and the rain started to fall here and there. We got back to Russellville and filled up on some stellar Mexican food before I had to head back home (and back to a wintry reality).

Now I'm back in Fayetteville where it's 32 degrees out and we're under a winter storm watch. Bummer.

Newt ... livin' on the edge.

I was unhappy after a weird crash that left me thinking, "I did not know my legs could move in that direction." My groin still hurts a little.

Where I'd rather be.

Good Times in the Rock.

So my plan for not getting fatter has only been going "okay." I keep eating out too much and drinking too much beer. Stupid beer.

Speaking of beer, this past weekend was my last working weekend of the year! It was a fine way to end the season too. I left my house Friday morning in good spirits. Everything was great until about 50 miles down the road. Then I had a massive blowout on the trailer, so that kinda sucked. That's the 5th time this year I've had to change a tire on the trailer. LAME. Oh well.

So then I got back on the road and rolled into Russellville to see my little friend Newt, otherwise known as Nathan. He used to hate that I called him Newt, but I think now he's grown to love it. Newt was done with school for the day, so we made it out for a ride. I've been rather fascinated by the delay timer on my camera, so I insisted we use it:

Rather than hang around and party with some college kids, I decided to head on over to Little Rock. I checked into my hotel (Hampton Inn, of course) and then made plans to meet up with my old roommate Jason. I have a bad habit of forgetting what room number I'm in, so I usually tear the room number off the little envelope and put that in my pocket, just in case. I know this sounds like an awful trivial detail, but keep reading. So Jason and his girlfriend Amy and I went out for beers and food. Our waiter was a friendly guy, so we chatted with him quite a bit. Then the bill came. I put my credit card in the little book and off he went with it. No big deal. But then he brought it back. With a grin on his face. At first I thought, what a weirdo. Then I opened the little book and inside I found the bill, my credit card, and that little piece of paper with my room number on it. Mind you, this little piece of paper was CLEARLY from the Hampton Inn. Crap! Now this guy thinks I want to jump his bones! I left there dearly hoping this guy wouldn't show up at my door with lofty expectations.

He didn't.

Work the next day was pretty fun. I won't go into details, but this picture is pretty representative of the entire day:

It was unseasonably warm in Little Rock, so we all decided to take advantage of the nice day and go ride. I had no idea Little Rock was such a pretty place. I've gone all this time thinking it was just a big crap hole.




Then of course, we all went out for pizza and beer after the ride. Hilarious times were had by all. It rained yesterday, so we called it an early day, which was okay with me because then I got home way earlier than expected.

Now I'm home for awhile. Although I'm trying to plan another vacation just because I can. And because I'll go nuts if I stay home doing nothing for a month.