Day 394: Baking From Scratch

The best part

     Cupcakes! Ryan, Stef and I made cupcakes! We didn't buy that boxed crap either. We got good, wholesome (sarcasm) ingredients, like sugar, powdered sugar, and heavy cream, and mixed em together. We made quite the mess, and we started baking them before all the ingredients were actually mixed together. Aside from the minor hick ups, the cupcakes turned out pretty OK. There was an overwhelming flour aftertaste, but I could still dig em. The clean up was the worst part. That powdered sugar can end up in the darnedest places. Whatevs, I figure that after yesterday's BaconFest, I need to  re-introduce myself into the healthy eating  community (I use that term loosely) slowly. I figure I'll be back to normal with my oatmeal and quinoa in 3 to 6 months.

Day 393: BaconFest

College Boy!

     After yesterday's bummer of a challenge, there was only one thing that could lift my spirits. Bacon. Keystone, a mountain town about an hour and a half from me, was holding a festival in honor of the treat America holds so dear, bacon. I first heard about this festival the day before, when my buddy at work invited me to tag along. I'm not sure why I was even surprised to hear about a festival for bacon. It's America, of course there's a BaconFest. American's are bacon fanatics. I've personally seen tattoos that depict entire scenes made up of nothing but bacon. People's love of bacon seems to know no bounds. This love for bacon, is a love that do not share with the rest of America. Don't get me wrong, I love me a club sammich, or maybe a bacon burger every now and then, but my love of bacon doesn't even register in comparison to the other attendees of this festival. The crowd was a blur of bacon. I caught glimpses of bacon t-shirts, pajama bottoms, and two full on bacon tuxedos. Guests were sporting plastic pig snouts and face paintings of bacon strips. I decided to try to immerse myself the best I could in the culture -and to do so- would have to disregard the pains my heart would inevitably tell me once I started eating.

     We hunted for the tastiest treats the festival had to offer, and I was on the lookout for the strangest. We found chocolate dipped bacon strips, bacon wrapped hotdogs, bacon flavored whiskey, and (my favorite) bacon mac and cheese. Tempting smells filled the mountain town and I followed them wherever they went.

Danny eating something good?

     My favorite part of the entire day, must've been the bacon college that the five of us went to. It was a seminar entitled "Bacon Eating 101", but really it was just a small outdoor auditorium a local smokehouse rented to talk about all the flavors of BBQ sauce they carry. They talked about how charitable they were, and about their low prices -yadda yadda yadda. What was cool about it, was they picked two volunteers from the audience to come up on stage and race to make the owners signature meal; a four pound carnivorous creation called the bacon log, and my buddy Danny was chosen to compete. I'm not sure if I was intrigued because it looked appetizing, or just...intimidating. This excessive amount of food was essentially a blanket of weaved bacon strips with pounds and pounds of meats, cheeses, and chili. The contestants prepared the log and rolled it up when finished. Once the owners were done with their sales pitch, they asked the crowd to judge the winner (of an awful stomachache and $25 gift card) by a round of applause. Obviously we went nuts when it was time for Danny's applause, and he won. They smoked the giant pile of meat, and we got to take it home with us (to feed us through December). Afterwards, we all got diplomas from the bacon professor, and I thought that was pretty silly.  
     It was fun, and strange, and pretty tasty. I'd probably do it again.

The Bacon log

College Boy

 

Day 392: Take Legal Action

   

Tom Martino

     I'm sort of just going with this one cause I don't have much choice. Unfortunately, this last year has been really stressful for my car/financial situation. I'll explain in detail, in a letter that I wrote and will attach to this entry. You can read it, but you don't have too. All you need to know, is that I've been sold an unroadworthy car from a dealership (and yes, I'll drop their name in the letter...several times). The car is very dangerous to drive, and I'm very much afraid for my well being while I drive to work. I've tried a handful of times to get the dealership to work with me, but it's proven to be nearly impossible for them to even call me back to talk about my complaints about my purchase. This entry isn't funny, nor was it fun, but I think it's one of those things that happen in life that ya just gotta go through. I've been taken advantage of from this dealership for almost a year now. Most of my income goes to them, or the repairs I was forced to pay for (again, I'll explain everything in the letter below). Frankly, I feel like I have no choice but pursue legal action. I wrote a letter explaining my entire situation, and I sent it off to news outlets, the BBB, and even Tom Martino (a local consumer advocate). I plan on taking this dealership to court, and this was the first step. Feel free to read about my past year dealing with this company. I did my best to keep it professional and objective, I feel like feelings and emotions will get me nowhere when dealing with the cold dealings of a company.

Hello, my name is Kyle Garlock, and I would like to submit a formal complaint about the Mountain States Toyota Dealership. Last July, my car was hit by a driver who fled the scene, and I was forced to find another car. Mountain States was referred to me and I decided to look for the same type of car I had previously (a 1996 Subaru Outback). I test drove a 2005 Subaru Outback, and purchased it. Almost instantly, I learned that this car was obviously un-roadworthy. It gave off a concerning smell as I let it idle (unlike anything I've ever smelled before), and the hood would give off a faint amount of smoke (I noticed this while stopped at a light usually). The acceleration was inconsistent and the brakes made a squealing noise. These symptoms were alarming, and I had the vehicle checked, but no problem was found. 
On New Year's Eve of 2014, I was driving my vehicle to a cabin in the mountains. The temperature that night was down to -2 degrees, and we were far out of any sort of cell phone range when my car's turbo blew. The car (with my friends and myself) was engulfed in a cloud of smoke. The car had no power to climb the dirt roads and we were stuck in freezing temperatures with no way to get back. Fortunately I was able to flag down a lonesome passerby, and use their phone (which had service specifically for the area) and get a ride back home. I read in a newspaper the very next day that someone else's car broke down in a similar area that night. The man ended up getting severe frostbite on his foot.
I tell that story, not because I don't realize that turbos blow, but to explain why this car is so un-roadworthy, and to highlight Mountain States Toyota's horrible customer service ethics once I brought my concerns to them.
The repairs and towing costs of my vehicle were expensive, they amounted up to about half of what the car was worth in the first place. Insurance wouldn't offer any help (because I wasn't in an accident) even though I pay for full coverage. The extended warranty that I purchased (worth around $800) from the dealership, denied any sort of coverage (I was promised by the dealership that my warranty would cover about 60% of the repairs). 
Frustrated and in desperate need of a reliable vehicle for work and school, I asked the dealership to help a struggling college student out. The salesman I was taking too, promised that if I payed for all of the repairs out of pocket, then Mountain States Toyota would reimburse my original purchase of over $11,000, and turn that into credit towards a new/used car. I had no choice but to borrow money in order to repair the damages (a blown turbo and a cracked engine block).
After two and a half months of bumming rides from friends and family, my car was finally "repaired". The repairs added up to almost $7,000 and has had a devastating impact on my financial situation. I took my car, and receipt to Mountain States Toyota to trade in my car in hopes of getting a car that I can feel safe in. Unfortunately, the salesman I talked too previously refused to hold up his end of the bargain (to reimburse me with store credit, if I pay for the repairs of the vehicle myself). The salesman I talked to informed me that the previous salesman quit almost immediately after making that promise to me. When I asked the current salesman to honor the promise that the previous salesman made, he refused and said that the only way I would get a working car, would be if I purchased yet ANOTHER car from his dealership.
It was only after extensive research into possible causes for my vehicle to do what it did, that I discovered that my car didn't have an oil change for several years prior to me buying it. The CarFax report that it had been in Mountain States possession for several years and there was no record of there being an oil change for well over 5,000 miles. I was sold a car that hadn't had an oil change in almost twice the recommended millage. 
I have visited the dealership a handful of times (when my work and school schedule open up) to try and talk to a supervisor, but I'm always met by an employee that promises they can help me, but never do. I tell them my story, then they proceed to try and sell me another car as if I can even afford the car I currently have (with the full coverage insurance/insane interest rates/ and costly repair bill). I've tried reaching out to the General Manager to discuss my expensive, and regretful purchase from their dealership, but they have refused to speak to me.
I do not have any other options at this point. I work full time and am in school. I can not have the most expensive thing I have ever purchase make me feel like I may literally die while on the way to work or school. The health of the vehicle has gotten much worse over the past months. If the temperature is over a mild 70 degrees, the car almost certainly will not start (sometimes it takes several hours before it will start). And recently the engine will buck and shake while sitting at a stop. I have driven it when it suddenly stalls and the power steering cuts out. If this happens while commuting to the Elementary school I work at, I fear that I may very well be killed. 
This is the most expensive and most regrettable purchase I have ever made. It is made worse only by the fact that the company (Mountain States Toyota) that promised several times to help me, has done nothing but lied, cheated, manipulated, and ignored me as a customer. When I asked for guidance and assistance, they replied by trying to sell me yet again. Please help me, help stop a company that has absolutely no appreciation for customer service ethics.

Day 391: Hiking the Apex Trail

     I said it before (when I wrote about hiking the South Table Mountain), and I'll say it again; I'm not doing this project simply so I can rack my brain on the daily. I do this project so that mustering up the effort to say "yes" to opportunities becomes a bit easier. I do it so that finding motivation to get up and go out into the world will (with a bit of effort) become second nature. So I've been on a hike before, so what. I've never been on this hike before. This trail, with these people. The sights I saw, and the experiences I had today were genuine and novel. Just because today's entry isn't as obscure as some of my others, doesn't take away from the experience of it. Hell, I'd count hiking a different trail everyday if the opportunity came up.

     Today's hike was beautiful, which helped distract me from the awful car troubles I've been having lately. Stef and I met up with my sister (Sarah) and her friend, Holly in Golden (a town that I am crushing on hard lately). Golden is beautiful, and a perfect spot for a hike. We got all packed up, and walked from Holly's sisters house to a mountain (how's that for prime real estate?). It was hot, and I kept giving myself kudos for remembering to bring/fill my newly purchased Camel-back. The four of us, and three doggies, trekked up the Apex trail, stopping only so the pups could lay in the cool creek, and so I could Geo-cache. The tail was narrow, often with a dangerously steep hill on the side, and the mountain bikers who raced down didn't seem to care much about my personal space or well being. But we kept hiking, whenever a biker was spotted, we would scoot as far to the side as we could manage, to not get knocked off the side of the trail. The hike wasn't hard, but it sure was hot. I was sweating and panting like one of the pups. The trail seemed to swoop behind the mountain, and kick back and fourth up the backside.

     At the top of the hill, our gang took a much deserved rest under the cover of some trees. The view was stunning, a crystal clear view of a micro-sized city. Denver could be seen on the horizon, just a tiny dirt mound in the distance. We hung out, drank a refreshingly warm beer, and took some scenic photos before descending. The trip down was more of the same; hot temps, and beautiful Colorado views. Take a look at the photos, they're the real story!

Day 387: Paint My Toenails

     The challenges are starting to get weird, that's for sure. Some of these challenges; like painting my nails, never really came to mind while brainstorming. Not because it was so crazy or strange, it's just, I never even thought of painting my nails as a possibility. It's something girls (and a handful of awkward middleschoolers) do, right? But Stef had all the supplies, and I had all the toes, so it made sense to give it a go.
     Stef got her shoebox of assorted nail polishes and tools of the trade, and we sat on the bed to get our nails did. It didn't seem like the art was too complicated, it went something like this

     A) Put the base coat (had to ask Stef what that was called again) on the nails

     B) Do two coats of whatever your desired color is. Making sure to start painting from the middle of the nail and extending outward, then working each side.

     C) Put a top coat of some kind of protective polish on.

     D) Clean up any paint with a Q-tip and some remover stuff

     E) Do not kick the cat with paint on your toes

     And wham! That's how it's done! So I followed the steps that Stef provided me, painting and cleaning as I watched Netflix. I was somewhat proud of my attempt, although I made sure not to me too good to avoid suspicion from others. The right foot was blue (in honor of my rec league soccer team) with smiley faces painted on top (cause, why not?), and my left foot was all black except for my ring toe, which I painted a classy shade of piss yellow. I was proud, Stef however, did not share the same sentiments. Below is the video of her reaction to my nails. It's hard to make out exactly what she was trying to say trough the fits of laughter and the tears running down her face, but apparently my left foot looked like that of a hooker's.
     So yeah, I got laughed at, and (more importantly) have these crappy smiley faces painted on my toes for who knows how long. I guess I'll be wearing socks this summer.

Day 381: Crochet

     :/

     I gotta say, I wasn't a fan of this one. Crocheting seemed like it'd be an easy enough challenge. Get some string, bug Stef for some pointers, and bingo-bango- challenge completed right? Wrong. All today's challenge did was reinforce the fact that I am terrible at certain things. The kind of terrible that you cant fully recover from. Things like singing, throwing a football, and being able to spell the word diarrhea; keep my inability to crochet company in my list of "things I can not do".

   
     Everything was in order; Stef was teaching me what techniques she knew, and I had the entire afternoon to fidget with yarn in hopes of creating a crafty scarf or sweater or whatever people even make when they decide to crochet. Taking what know-how Stef blessed me with; I tried my luck crocheting a small bracelet, arguably the most simple thing to make. Unfortunately, it became painfully clear that I was not meant for the yarn and hook life within seconds of fumbling. Stef would explain what it was that I was trying to accomplish, and my mind understood and agreed...but my hands, my dumb stupid hands had decided on a completely new agenda all together. They felt it best to fumble and fidget in response to my brain's directions. I knew what I was doing, but I must have overestimated my level of dexterity. I would tell my hands "Hook 1, then swoop. Hook 2 and swoop. Hook 2 again and swoop, and repeat" but then my hands were all "Hey, lets turn ourselves inside out and cramp up!"
     It was miserable, but at least Stef seemed to enjoy herself while she watched me struggle and curse the null-minded fingers I was born with. After about 40 minutes of crushing any hope of become the crafty crocheter I'd never dreamed of being, Stef offered to finish the second half of my bracelet (I couldn't say yes fast enough). About a minute and a half later, her portion was complete and what was left of my ego was effortlessly crushed.
     Whatever, crocheting isn't my life. It doesn't define me. I still have value...Right?

Day 375: Geo-Caching

          This was a fun one, one that I can't wait to try again soon. Geo-caching -which was first explained to me by my grandfather when he suggested it for my project years ago- is a lot like real life treasure hunting. Geo-cachers are a subculture of hobbyists that hide and seek trinkets and treasures all over the world. After doing a little bit of research, I found that geo-caching is a way bigger deal than I originally thought. I downloaded the official Geocaching app and looked at the GPS map that showed all the local caches. Turns out, that there are countless treasures hidden all over town, and one in particular was within walking distance of my apartment.
     The gang (Ryan, Stef, and myself) did not need much convincing for this challenge, seriously, who doesn't want to go on a nighttime treasure hunt? I wont go into too much detail, cause I made a short video of our adventure. But I will say that the sun went down quick and the GPS is only accurate to about 30 feet, so we were pretty sure that we'd be wandering around in the dark for quite some time. We were able to stay on a path for most of the trip, following the compass on my phone. But at about 700 feet out, my compass shifted and directed us straight in the middle of a tall grassy field. Snakes, mud, and bugs came to mind as we set off through the brush, but really it was only the mud that gave us any trouble.
     Take a look at the video, it's short, but it'll get you up to speed. We found the treasure, traded our trinkets with the artifact left in the cache (a repurposed vitamin bottle covered in camouflage duct tape) and wrote our names in the log. A simple, free challenge that got us outside and exploring. That's the kinda stuff I'd like to be doing more often!

Day 373: Ghost Hunting on Riverdale Road

     Let me just set the scene for you real quick.....
          -There's five of us celebrating with half price shakes at Sonic after our soccer game (We totally lost, but both Ryan and myself scored our first goals of the season. Bangerang).
          -The night is getting late and I had yet to fulfill my challenge to try something new. So we began to brainstorm some ideas while we waited for our cheesy tatter tots to arrive. Stef thought I should kiss a boy, and I was like "nahhhhhh". Then we talking about baking a cake from scratch, but I didn't feel like staying up washing dishes. The carpool kept spit-balling ideas and some of them seemed decent, but nothing that really got me excited. That was until, there was talk of touring a haunted site on the other side of town. Right then, I knew I had my challenge.
     I asked about the haunted site and it soon became clear that I was the lone member who had never heard of it before. They told me that Riverdale road -a road that I've commuted countless times in my 20+ years of living around here- is totally, utterly, haunted. They started telling me stories about
          -A guy flipping his camaro under the bridge
          -A demolished home of a crazed father that killed his family
          -The scene of a scorched tree with the burnt shadow of a girl who was pinned to it by a car. I was told that the car caught on fire, killed the girl, and left an imprint of her body burnt into the trunk of the tree. They say that her ghost walks the roadside in a white dress at night.

       This was perfect! I had driven down this road so many times, but I had no idea that it was like a urban legend Mecca. People have traveled to check out the burn marks in the tree, and there's a whole bunch of stories written about it online. Since I had some self proclaimed experts on the topic with me in the car, they would totally be able to show me the creepiest stuff Riverdale road had to offer.
     I'm gonna keep it short cause there really wasn't much of a payoff. We set off down the road and stopped at The Gates of Hell, which are gates to a house where a crazy father killed his entire family. It's really sad if that's true (not sure either way), but we didn't see much other than a dirt lot and an old chain link fence. The fence was open but I was advised not to drive up it (advice that I was ok taking).

The Gates of Hell, I was told NOT to take a picture

     We continued following the dark, winding curves of the road in search of The Tree. I kept asking what exactly it was I was looking for, but everyone just kept saying "Oh, just you wait, you'll know", which was probably the most unnerving thing about the entire night. So I kept driving with my brights on so I definitely wouldn't miss it, and everyone in the car was like "It's right around this corner!" and in my head I was like "Ahhhhh". And as we took the corner I could see a tree, maybe even The Tree. But this tree looked pretty much like every other tree. I was a little let down, but also relieved as we continued driving. I was told shortly after that the reason why I didn't see what they wanted me to see, was because a large bush had grown and overtaken the burn marks of the girl.
     It was really strange driving down a road that I've been down so many times with that eerie feeling we all helped cultivate with our stories and excitement. I was like taking something totally familiar and convincing yourself that you should be terrified of it. It was fun, but I don't think I have what it takes to become a ghost hunter.

The best picture of some trees maybe The Tree?

Day 372: Butterfly Knife

     So it's been a couple days since the reintroduction to the project and I'm feeling good. I've had some time to get back into the groove of things. I'm starting to remember what it feels like to roam through the isles of a random Whole Foods -not for any item in particular- but for something strange, something noteworthy. That feeling of looking through the lens of untapped potential is becoming more familiar.
     Take this morning for example. It was raining off and on, so The Roomies and I made our way to one of the largest indoor flea markets I know of (I believe that I went to it once before and walked away with an entry for my project the first time around but I cant remember exactly what for). As you would expect of me in these sort of situations, I was on the hunt to strike gold inside this dusty basement of a building (Whenever there's a garage sale, thrift store, or any other informal transaction, I convince myself that I am the rightful heir to the most valuable finds both beautiful and odd. All I have to do is find it).
     But since the reintroduction of the project, my treasure hunting focus has increased two-fold. I've always just liked going to these sort of places just cause. But know, I'm also depending on these sort of places to yield me my challenge for the day too. So I basically like a bloodhound when I'm up in there. Lifting through piles of mostly garbage, and sniffing through the deepest corners in hopes of finding that something.
     Today however, I stumbled upon my new thing to try within the first minute of hunting. It was in the first glass case I looked through. Displayed in the case was an assortment of knifes, smoking pipes and brass knuckles -bingo. I was almost certain that two out of three of those things (butterfly knife and brass knucks) were illegal in Colorado, and a Google search would confirm it. So it had been decided; I would purchase an illegal weapon from this run down flea market. Then I would teach myself how to use said weapon, and then post an incriminating video of myself on the web for you all to enjoy.

     Here's the video. Admittedly I'm not very good. All of my focus was spent on not slicing open a main artery. It kind of goes against my recent urge to become more high class, but whatever, maybe this tough guy persona is a better way to go.

Day 371: Symphony

     So I'm still on my high class kick. I want to be cultured and wise beyond my years and all that jazz. So today, while I was catching up on another project of mine (to draw something every day. If you'd like to see more of that project click here) I decided that I needed to concentrate while I drew or I'd get distracted like I always do. I listen to a lot of different types of music while I draw, and I'm no stranger to listening to classical. But one thing that I've never done, was listen to an entire symphony. I looked up a video of an hour long symphony and began drawing. It actually did wonders for keeping me from getting distracted. I was only interrupted a couple of times from a text or two and I ended up getting three illustrations done! Here they are for ya!

     I enjoyed the experience more than I thought I would, but I did pick up on some strange occurrences from it. Like, I thought that it was uber weird when there would be a break between movements (I'm gonna assume that they're called movements, but you know what I'm talking about right? The pieces of music that make up the symphony) nobody would clap or whistle. All they would do is cough and clear their throat. It sounded really gross and totally not high class. Plus, if I was about of the symphony, I was be so bummed out if nobody clapped at my high class playing.
     I did think that it was kinda cool to watch the conductor. That was an example of a guy that really gets into his work. He was totally lost in it. And at the end, when he signaled the musicians to cease playing, and the audience sat waiting. There was this moment, he stood perfectly still, eyes clenched closed, where he shed a single tear from what he had just heard. It pretty powerful actually. Here's the video if you'd like to play your air-clarinet with me.

Day 369: Scotch

     I'm all about getting cultured. Trying things to expand my pallet and my mind in hopes of becoming a more civilized gentleman or whatever. Scotch seemed like one of those things that would help me shoot into the stratosphere of classy stuff to try. I decided that it was my time to distance myself from crappy canned bear and the occasional White Russian, to something more mature. I inlisted the help of the a middle aged lady behind the cash register of a tiny liquor store to help me decide just how to introduce myself to this beverage. She said something along the lines of "Well, ummm" I waited for her to continue. "You get what you pay for with that stuff". Genius. I took her advice into consideration while browsing, but threw it out once I caught a glimpse of the prices. So I settled on the single cheapest bottle of scotch in hopes of appearing more prestigious than I actually am.    
     From there I poured a glass and threw in some stones (rich people talk for ice) and gave it a sip. Terrible. It looked like gasoline, smelled like sharpie, and tasted like whiskey filled mosquito bites. But it's not about flavor, its about class and pedigree!
     Here's the footage, straight from the horse's mouth!

Day 368: Frisbee Golf

     Call it Frisbee Golf, or disk golf, or frolf or whatever. Its that spot played by frat boys and dudes that go on that dumb The Chive website...Or so I thought. It's actually way more fun than I thought, even with an assortment of crappy, broken frisbees. Rather than bore you with words, I made a video of the fun outting for you to enjoy. Watch Mouse throw it everywhere but the hole (is it even called a hole? It's more like a cage, or metal dreadlocks on a pole). Hit me up, we'll play sometime!

Day 367: Prank Call

     Yeah I know that it's juvenile. And I also know that it was not the over the top kind of experience I would have chosen to do for my return to the project. But you see, I have a really god excuse. See...it was late, and I was already a couple episodes (epi's for short) in on some Netflix. The bed was super comfortable annnnnd yeeeahh. So if it isn't obvious, I should just let you know, it was super hard to find motivation to start this project. Ryan texted me, because he too agreed to try something new everyday. In fact, he's the reason why this thang is even happening...again. We had been talking about trying it for weeks now, and then (in the middle of my Netflix comatose) he texts me. He says that we should officially start the resolution and I (hesitantly and tiredly) agree.
     But here's the obvious problem, the night is getting late (and yes, 8:00 PM is now late by my standards) and my motivation is out on holiday. I didn't want to disappoint Ryan on my first day back, but I also didn't want to get up either. So after tossing some ideas around with Stef, we settle on something that I could do without even getting out of bed, prank call someone. Deciding who to call was the easiest part. Obviously we would prank call Ryan, that way he would know that I did something new, and I could also ask him if I was believable.
     The good news is that he didn't know it was me calling (from Stef's phone). The bad news is, I'm not sure if I was believable still. See, as the phone rang and I waited for him to pick up, I quickly crafted my character, but I probably should have spent some more time on it. I wanted to sound totally different from my normal self, so I tried to imitate the voice of an aggressive, loud mouthed thug named D-Harm. I even had a back story for him. See, D-Harm trying to reach his friend Trey, because Trey was supposed to pick D-Harm up from the bus stop a few hours ago. Then D goes into some inaudible rant about having some girl eyeballing him from across the street.
     Although I was rather proud of my character, Ryan didn't get to fully appreciate my art of prank calling. Apparently he was at a noisy gym when I called and couldn't hear any of D-Harm's threats. Ryan eventually hung up the phone, and D called back and left a lengthy voicemail message (that I'd like to post here if I can get a hold of it) for him.
     I don't think that I was the most believable, but it seemed like Stef thought it was funny, and it was sort of excited waiting as the phone rang. Not sure why I never did this at a more appropriate age...like 7.

Ending Chapters-part 2

   

     It is my distinct pleasure to report to you (from the comfort and safety of the ground) that my skydiving challenge was total success. Sarah and I made the mistake of watching YouTube videos of skydivers last night, which made for a quite car ride to the hanger. But weirdly enough, all of my anxiety and worries seemed to abandon me as soon as we reached the offices and began signing our lives away with the scratch of a pen. Even when we were suiting up in our purple sky-soaring outfits, Sarah and I were joking around as if we weren't about to fall 12,500 feet within the next half hour. I'm not sure if it was the adrenaline, but loading into that rickety tin-can of an airplane, was a completely different experience to watching the skydive videos the night before. When we we're watching the footage, my hands were sweaty and my heart was racing, but today, I felt calm, I felt fine. I was so calm that I even remember pointing out a house as we flew overhead that had been painted a disgusting shade of orange.

     Mentally, the plane ride was a lot easier than worried it'd be, but physically...it was a different story. The ride up to the jump off point will probably get nominated for the "most uncomfortable situation I've ever found myself in" award. We all faced the back of the plane as we sat in the harnessed laps of our instructors. The plane's engine sounded about as feral as my moped, and the wind outside couldn't disguise all the disheartening noises that the decrepit aircraft made. And worst of all, my harness seemed to be holding a cruel grudge towards my crotch.

     But soon enough, we made it to our elevation and shit started to get real. The door, which must've been 4 feet tall, was raised, and a light accompanied by a buzzer alerted us that it was time to abandon ship. Slowly and awkwardly, each pair of students and instructors made their way to the opening. My instructor and I were to jump last, so we watched as each hesitant jumper finally made it to the plank, and finally took the plunge. One by one, the plane emptied of the unstable thrill-seekers that were just sitting next to me. It was just me, my instructor, and a pilot in basketball shorts left. I was nudged by my instructor towards the door where my sister had just stood and told to "hang on". 

     And then something amazing happened. I remember seeing my feet and the Earth below me as the frigid air whipped past. I saw the mountains from above, and as we tipped further forward than I'd ever feel comfortable with, I saw the foothills; vague green and yellowish-brown patches stretching towards every horizon. The lakes and reservoirs were tiny blue blotches. I was wide-eyed and speechless as we fell from the plane. It was loud, and it was cold, and it was over way too soon. As I fell helplessly through the atmosphere with nothing but fabric to save me, I tried to take as many mental images as possible. I wanted this experience to be preserved in my mind for the rest of my life (which felt about a minute away at the time). My mouth was completely dry and my lungs struggled to breath in the harsh wind, but I didn't care. I had done it, I had taken the jump, and I had completed my project.

     And as the ground came into focus again, the parachute was pulled and we glided back towards the airport (but not after some sweet parachute whips and spins...and even more punishment to my balls). Landing was smooth and Sarah and I celebrated our survival with some chipotle. 

     So was the project a success? I'd say totally. If this project hadn't taken over my life for the entirety of 2011, I'd be a very different Kyle today. I'd still be a part time dishwasher with a "to-do" list as opposed to a "done" list. I wouldn't have found myself in many of the often strange but always fascinating situations that made this last year so memorable. And I certainly would not have jumped out of an airplane. 

     Thank you, and if you'd like to check out whatever I'm up to lately, you can click here. Thanks!

Ending Chapters

     Months have passed since my last post, and to be honest, I didn't think I'd ever update this blog again. Once the project, and all the momentum that it carried, had finally died down, I quickly found myself falling back into the daily routine that had grooved my agenda for so long. Late night charades of ill-advised challenges no longer hung in the back of my mind. I was free to accept or decline any opportunity. The problem was, I've become increasingly more afraid of becoming the sheltered hermit of a person that I used to be. Was I slowly reaching for my old shut-in habits? Was I destined to live a life of monotonous wasted time? I didn't want my year-long experiment to be all for naught.
     Luckily, I received a text message from my sister a couple days ago that would help me answer these burning questions. She told me that she'd be in town later this week and was wondering if I was still up to go skydiving with her. I had promised her that I was all for skydiving way back when (back when the thought was just being conceived, and there was no airplanes in sight) and it wasn't till my phone buzzed with her invitation that the threat of a catastrophic mid-air scenario started to play in my mind.
     I'll admit it, I never thought I'd be the kind of guy to willingly jump out of the sky, but if I recall correctly, that's what this whole project was about. It was about forcing opportunities upon myself and opening up to what's around. So I figure, this skydiving outing is the perfect setting to test how effective my project was. I want to see if I've conditioned myself to try new things enough to try something as niche and risky as skydiving. I want to prove to myself that the project wasn't a waste, that I've learned and grown and become a better person because of it. And that I'm the the "life-enthusiast" that I so often praise myself as.
     I ironed out the details earlier this morning, and it's official; we're on the first jump tomorrow morning. How bout one more "new thing" challenge, for old time sake. It's about time I see if the experiment is the soaring success I claim it was. Let's do this shit.

Day 366: Polar Bear Plunge

     So the project is officially and successfully over. I'd like to thank everyone who partook in any way. Whether you kept up with the blog, or helped to spread the word about the project, or even helped me with a challenge or two, I really appreciate it. It's been a lot of fun...for the most part, and I'm actually sad it's over. But then again, it's never really over. The only thing that's ending is the structure. I am now free to try new things simply because I enjoy trying new things, not because of a project or a blog. I've conditioned myself to actively seek out new experiences this past year, and this new habit seems to be sticking quite well.

Trying to warm back up

     To prove it, today I joined the Polar Bear Club. It's an annual event that takes place on the first of the year. It's a fundraising event where participants strip down to their bathing suits (maybe a speedo or two) and take a plunge into the freezing cold river in Golden, Colorado. I think it's supposed to welcome the new year and give you a fresh (and arctic) start, but really who knows? Some people watch, others take the dip, but everyone's there to support a cause (unfortunately, I have no idea what the cause is). So my sister, mother, and I joined the group of eager and inebriated polar bears by the river this morning. We were armed with nothing but a couple towels and generous amounts of beer. And after the thank you speech was given, we all ran towards the icy river and jumped in. To say that it was beyond freezing would be an understatement. This water was cold, like, body paralyzing, and lung crippling cold. My body wasn't functioning very effectively, but eventually I completely submersed myself and completed the challenge. It was a memorable end to the project, and a refreshing start to whatever comes next. I really doubt that I'd ever try anything like the Polar Bear Club (or really, most of my previous challenges for that matter) if it weren't for this project. It's gotten me to finally leave my comfort zone and throw caution to the wind. I hope it doesn't sound corny when I say this, but I'm really grateful for the project. I've met new people, reconnected with old friends, traveled to strange places, tasted exotic foods, and over all gotten cultured about the sights, sounds, and opportunities in life. Thanks again, for helping make 2011 totally rad. And for any of you that aren't completely sick of me yet, I've started a new blog that should hold you over for a little while. Thanks.

Day 365: Pierce My Ear

Not too siked

     Nobody is more bummed out about this challenge than I am. I've never been a fan of dudes with earrings, they're just not my cup of tea. I did an impressive job of resisting the urge to get a piercing for the project, but I guess that now's as good a time as any to finally go through with it. It's my last challenge, why not make it permanent?
     Stefanie was to do the piercing honors, but once she had the gloves on, and the gun in hand, I think she felt more apprehensive than honored. She kept saying that she was gonna mess up and leave me paralyzed, but in time, she came around and (after one failed attempt) got the earring through. It was over in an instant, I now had a pierced ear. It felt like a pinch...and I didn't go all paralyzed and whatnot. So yeah, I've got a metal rod sticking out of my lobe, and it appears to be stuck there for the time being. Pretty cool I guess. I'm not thrilled on it being there, but at least I made my last challenge a memorable one.

Add caption

Day 364: Learn How To Shuffle Cards

Gnar card

     I had no idea how bad at shuffling cards I was until I found myself in a heated card game with my family. How can you expect to have any card-carrying-confidence when you're constantly fumbling when you shuffle? I decided to take on the task of learning the ways of the shuffle, which proved to be easier said than done. I must have spent forty minutes trying to scramble the deck like a pro. My grandpa gave me a thorough lesson, but it wasn't much help. My shuffle had improved slightly, but it was still suffering. I'd get lucky every so often and have an impressive shuffle, and then completely embarrass myself on the next go. My technique seems so mechanical compared to my grandpa's seasoned approach, but don't worry, I got myself a deck of cards for this very occasion. I'm gonna master the art of card scrambling.

Day 363: Investigate A Conspiracy

     I don't suppose that many of you have heard of a man by the name of William Tapley. He's some old kook that claims that he has unraveled the secret of the conspiracy that has plagued the Denver International Airport (DIA) in recent years. He says that phallic images are hidden throughout the airport and that they are sure fire signs of the end times. He believes that our leaders are trying to get on Satan's good side by covering the airport with suggestive symbols. You'd have to be hopped up on goofballs to believe any of this garbage. The amount of crazy that this guy was spewing out of his face-hole was insane, but Mouse and I decided to go with it anyway. We wanted to snoop around the airport and see if we could find proof of the Satan-worshiping-wiener-dissemblers (never thought I'd say that).

     We were greeted by Mr. Tapley's most convincing evidence of a satanic conspiracy at the entrance of the airport, the giant blue devil horse. At 32 feet tall, and 9,000-pounds, this hellish fiberglass statue is one of the freakiest works known to man. It's seriously evil. His burning red eyes and hellish demeanor just freak me out. Not to mention, the artist of the Hell-horse was crushed and killed by a chunk of the cursed art while he was working on it. Everything about this thing screams Satan! So we carried on...

If you squint reeeeeeeally hard...

     Once we got inside, we began scouring the grounds for anything phallic. We looked at some rather disturbing paintings and support beams, but we really had to let our imaginations run wild to find anything that even remotely looked like something phallic. Personally, I just think that this William Tapley guy has his mind in the gutter. We tried, we really did. We spent a good hour in that airport looking for suggestive shapes, but I guess our gay-day just isn't as precise as Mr. Tapley's. Here's what some of the pieces of art that we dug up, see if you can find something phallic or Satanic.

Odd stuff

Need I say more?

Day 362: Drive Down The "Wildest Street In America"

     According to Mouse; Colfax Avenue is the longest straight road in America. And according to the Playboy Magazine quote from Colfax's Wikipedia page; Colfax is "the longest, wickedest street in America." Apparently there was a whole other side to Colfax, one I'd yet to see. So Mouse and I decided to experience the entirety of the "wickedest" street in America. We would cruise down the 26.1 mile long street and see just what all the fuss was about. We started at the West end (Heritage Rd) and ended our trek at the East end (Gun Club Rd). It was a solid hour or so of cruising the street, and it was actually funner than I thought it would be. We stocked up on potato chips and acted like tourists in a city we've always known as we saw the sights of Denver. We saw the glorious Casa Bonita, and we passed the Occupy Denver protesters at Civic Center. It wasn't the "wickedest" time of my life, but it was still pretty fun. Here's a short time lapse of the journey.