Today Zill and I went on an adventure.  We weren’t supposed to go on an adventure.  We were supposed to go to yoga.

But when we got to yoga, yoga was full of yoga-nauts.  They were having a free promo class, and the spaceship from Naut-payin-a-ting landed in HB.  And there was nowhere for us full paying people to throw down a mat.

So disgruntled, I changed into my civvies.

And we walked around downtown HB.

It was beautiful out.  And my disgruntlement fled immediately, erupting into happy-ment.

And as we always do when we explore, we found a bunch of stuff.

Like a shop full of punkers.  I would have gone in, but Zill was a little freaked.  That maybe her hair would turn Mohawk upon contact and her skin would break out in tats.  So we didn’t go into that place.

Some guy collecting for the homeless vets shoved a bucket into my face.  For some crazy reason, I can’t refuse a beggar’s request.  I give to them all.  To all I throw in a buck.  Buck thrown in.

Then we happened upon a red light.  A light that eventually turned green.  Yay.  We verily crossed the Highway of the Pacific Coast.

Then we happened upon  a random farmers’ market.  Ate a load of free fruit.  Then we short paid a buck for our haul cuz we didn’t have enough cash.  Poor farmer guy.  I promise I’ll pay you back.  I gave the buck that should have been yours to a guy collecting for the homeless vets.

And then there was that craft show.  The show of crafts that you see.  At all craft shows.  Nothing new.  Just crafty stuff.  Put together with glue and Popsicle sticks.  And paintings that were made with Photo Shop.  Fortunately not on black velvet and gold paint.

Aha! It’s the beach.  So we saw a surf tournament.  With no surfers.

And because it was the beach, there were a whole lot of people in various stages of clothed-ness.  And various stages of local flavor and tourist-ness

We also saw a homeless lady sleeping in the grass curled around a lamppost.  Nothing like spooning to help you sleep.

Ah.  Adventure.  What a life we lead.  Zill and I.

Adventure is everywhere if you let it be so.  Fun Your Way out of the Box!

beach · craft shows · farmers market · homeless vets · local flavor · punks · surf tournament · surfers · tourists · yoga

Somehow, I ended my day of work earlier than I expected. Because I’m the boss, I got time off…for non-working behavior. It’s not that I didn’t want to work, but I was pooped. Pooped I was, because of an experiment I’m conducting. I want to rediscover my dreams before they drift off to the netherworld.

The experiment: dream catching. My alarm goes off at 4:00 AM.

Yeah.

4:00 AM.

And then I’m supposed to wake up and write down my dreams. At that hour, though, I am oblivious to life. I can’t remember my name, let alone my dreams. What I’d really like to catch is a couple of more zzzzz’s. Or take a zzzzz-iesta.

After two days of this nonsense, I needed a chillaxing afternoon, and though it was an overcast February afternoon, I headed to the beach. Silly me, while I sat in the car, I called a friend first, who kept me on the line for 45 minutes talking about non-chill subjects. Fortunately, a guest arrived at her door, so I silenced the blackberry and tromped across PCH, nearly getting run over by a speeding BMW and stampeded by a herd of chantingly jogging Marines.

Do I know how to chillax or what?

I sat and watched the waves, people clobbering around volleyballs, some guy bashing driftwood into the sand for a solo game of Frisbee golf, and a dog dying to go surfing or play Frisbee golf.

The sound of the pounding surf just crashed the poopedness out of my mind. I was one with the beach-trash peeking out of the sand. Yo Milky Way Wrapper, how’s it goin’? I will pick you up and deposit you in a trash receptacle posthaste. The seagulls squawked, and with them too, I was one. See me in my rat-with-wingedness glory. Don’t throw that Milky Way wrapper away. Eat it! Yeah. Right. That and a sand witch.

And as I absorbed this oneness-with-the-one into my being, all I could think was, “Dog Beach in HB Rules!” Throw me the Frisbee, man! *BONK*!!!!!

Catching ain’t my bag. J

beach · chillax · dream catching · Frisbee golf · rats with wings · sand witch