Time flies.

As did my little #specialweekend trip I did this year.

For the most part, the trip was great, besides some little hiccups at the beginning, but it added to the experience and the adventure of it all.

Again, the plan was Muir Woods National Monument for some hiking and then Napa for the rest of the weekend.

The drive up was an adventure in itself. I thought I would drive up to the Bay Area as I normally would, up 5 and then the regular route to San Francisco, but Google Maps had a different idea.

It directed me to drive around the whole bay instead, which was good and bad.

I avoided tolls.

Great.

It took forever.

Not so great.

There was a freak rainstorm that day also. It dropped one month’s worth of rain in the bay area in a single afternoon.

I didn’t do much that day after I got to the hotel. I didn’t plan much anyway, even though I planned to get there a few hours earlier.

It was raining, so, I was whatever.

I found a place to eat and then did some research on the hikes that were available at Muir Woods.

While researching, I realized that to get into the park, one needs either a parking reservation or a shuttle reservation.

I have neither, so I got a shuttle reservation bright and early the next day.

The day of the planned hike. The only hiccup of the trip. They closed the park.

Muir Woods was fucking closed.

There were mudslides over the road that goes to Muir Woods and Stinson Beach. They were the two things that I planned to explore that weekend.

I got to the shuttle and they reported closing the road, then they closed the whole park.

The rain fucked everything.

Everything.

I had to figure out what to do for the day. I didn’t want to go into San Fran and I wanted to hike.

I called the Ranger Station at Mount Tamalpais State Park to see if it was open. It was and made my plans.

Driving through the state park, I found a paid parking lot that had a trail that lead into Muir Woods. It was a 3-mile hike.

By happenstance, I found my plan for the day and I didn’t have to change much of it.

The hike was good. It was quiet besides the raging stream of water next to the trail.

The rain made it come alive, raging and mad.

I didn’t know what to expect at the National Monument. I had an idea, but it wasn’t what I was expecting.

It was small.

I understood why it would need reservations to get in. It’ll be hard to control the crowds in such a small place.

I wandered peacefully through the small park, taking in my surroundings and the tall trees. I traversed the well-manicured boardwalks and paths as I hiked pass the small groups of hikers that had the same idea that I did.

It was peaceful.

It was quiet.

It was nearly empty.

I hiked. I explored. I followed the well-beaten path and paths not taken.

I came to the realization how out of shape I was.

I still did about 9 miles in 3 hours, which is commendable, but I was tired.

My legs hurt, still not 100% after Yosemite.

My knees, especially my right knee, still fucked.

I may need to see a doctor for it or layoff it for a while.

It wasn’t until I hiked out and back to my car that I found a trail that lead all the way down to Stinson Beach.

I had planned to do that, but opted not to after seeing that it’ll be an 8-mile roundtrip hike. It wouldn’t be a problem; it’ll be a 17-mile hike day possibly more.

I was hurting after 9 already and I didn’t know how strenuous that hike was. How much uphill or downhill.

I went back to the hotel.

I got some ice cream and chilled before heading out to downtown Sausalito for dinner.

Sausalito is small. Quaint.

I walked around trying to figure out dinner then settled on an Italian restaurant.

It was all right. It was serviceable.

I got some gelato then called it a night.

* * *

Napa.

Bright and early, I headed to Napa.

California 1 to Stinson Beach was still closed, so I made my way to Napa instead.

Why not?

It took me a little under an hour to get there. I found my hotel, parked near there, then explored a little bit.

I got some coffee at one of their roasters and chilled for a bit while doing some research and reading.

When it came to Napa, I really didn’t have anything planned.

I wanted to take things slow, relax, chill and not rush anything and overall, that’s what I did.

I grabbed a quick and early lunch at Bouchon then I walked around Yountville for a few hours, taking my time, exploring.

I found a tasting room down the main road and started my wine adventure.

This was my first experience at a room where you can sit, relax, and just take your time tasting. There’s no standing at the counter chitchatting about the wine as you drink. You take your time.

I enjoy that type of experience better. I prefer it more.

You don’t get drunk that way. Take your time.

Slow it down.

Next, I went to their museum and they had a great Julia Child exhibit that I thoroughly enjoyed.

Close to the museum was the Chandon Winery and it was another winery that offered a tasting where you can take the sample with you and let you sip and enjoy it at your leisure. I was there for a few hours, reading, people watching, and researching places to eat.

It was also the first place where I bought my first bottle for the trip. A red. Cab.

Of course.

I drove back to the hotel, checked-in, took a quick shower and got dressed for my dinner reservation in Yountville, at Redd.

I made a reservation through OpenTabe and they showed that the only times were at 5:30pm and the next time wasn’t until 8:40pm.

The shit thing was when I got there at 5:30, the restaurant was empty. It just opened. I left close to 7 and it was still almost empty.

I don’t understand where all the reservations were.

Disappointing.

Nevertheless, the food was great.

The best thing I had there was the diver scallop dish with the motherfucking cauliflower puree.

That shit was amazing. Where has it been all my life?

Motherfucking cauliflower puree!

I drove back to the hotel and decided to explore the town at night all the while trekking to the closes rite-aid to get some Advil.

It’s quiet there at night. Very quiet.

It was a Sunday night.

Quiet.

The next day was a slow day too.

I woke up and went to Starbucks to do some writing and then I do what I do best, explored downtown. I walked and walked the city, trying to find a place for lunch.

I guess I could have gone and got some breakfast, but I’m not a breakfast guy.

I explored the city, their little market, and even inquired about the Wine Train. Expensive.

That day was a full day of wine.

Most restaurants didn’t open until close to 11:30 or noon, and surprisingly, many tasting rooms don’t open until 11.

I found one that just opened and had a good chat with the person that ran the place. I chilled at a table and we just chatted.

Bottle number 2.

Then lunch.

Tapas.

It was pretty fucking good too.

Next. All wine.

Tastings and tastings. These were more traditional tastings of standing at the counter.

I went to my go to, Clos du Val. Still fucking great. Solid.

Bottle number 3.

Then I went to another one down the street, recommended by the person at Clos du Val, Pine Ridge Wines.

It was all right.

Then I went to another recommendation, but apparently, it was by reservation only.

So, for the final one, I went to Jacuzzi.

Bottle number 4.

I got some olive oil and balsamic vinegar there too.

It was definitely a weekend of splurging.

I’m okay with that.

For dinner, I walked over to the market and had a rotisserie duck and a big ass taco.

Good.

* * *

Overall, it was a great trip. It was a great time by myself, exploring, and learning to take things a little slower.

It was a great experiencing of not planning and just figuring things out was I go.

I know that usually do that to begin with, but it’s good to actually take my time and not rush things.

Slowly, I learn. Slowly, I grow.

It was an expensive trip, with all the food and wine and expenses, but it was worth it.

Treat yourself.

You live only once.

Celebrate your life, the way you want to celebrate it.

Celebrate you.

And that’s what I did.

I enjoyed my time.

I pampered myself the only way I know how.

Do it.

Morning morning.

It’s a quiet morning here in quiet Napa.

I’m out and about, sitting outside as the sun rises higher and higher, heating up the day.

I sit outside, as I try to put my thoughts into words, or try to come up with some thoughts.

I sit, looking at my screen with my face reflected back at me from the screen. It’s a little distracting.

The day is long and I don’t have much planned, so I’m here, doing my little finger tappings a little early.

I know I won’t finish this today and it’ll continue this weekend, but here I am and here we go.

By the time this publishes, I’ll be another year older, another year wiser.

By the time I post this, hopefully whatever shitty year that came with 38 will end and fade away and it’ll start new.

Where to begin?

* * *

38.

38.

38.

What was that number?

38.

I dubbed it The Year of Bad Decisions a few months ago and it seemed that way.

I’m trying to decide when it actually started, when I picked Chutney up from the wildlife refuge or when I picked him up and brought him home from Roswell.

I don’t know, but it was a decision based on what I felt was right, from guilt, and me trying to give back to the universe and do something nice.

Everything before that was fine. Everything else before that was just work and decisions to do thing that benefited the agency.

Besides, those things happened before 38.

I know there was a lot of decisions I’ve made at work, creating things and projects that were questionable, but I’m not going to blame that. Those weren’t bad decisions. Those were necessary decisions.

The bad decisions were how I handled stress.

The drinking.

I don’t handle stress well.

I felt the pressure and there was a lot of pressure to succeed in all the work that I’ve done.

I don’t want to fail. I don’t mind it, if it is just, but when I do something, I want to put my best into it.

I guess that could be a decision, but again, work related.

….I’ve lost my way…let’s try again.

* * *

Bad decisions.

Let’s get this out of the way.

The drinking.

That’s how I handle stress.

I drink.

Whiskey.

Neat.

Rocks.

Stress.

It numbs it.

I don’t want to think about the pressure from work.

I drink.

I don’t want to think about the shitty thing that happened with Relish because my decision to bring a new dog into the house.

I drink.

My decisions affected others.

Thankfully, Relish is in a good place and is back to normal and Chutney has found a good place with Carel.

In the end, it all ended well, with all parties involved.

38.

It was the most stressful year ever.

No control.

I didn’t have any control over anything.

I had no control over my pets. I could only do what I can, which was try to rehome Chutney and throw money at the vet to fix Relish. However much it took.

Stress.

Drinking.

I haven’t drank so much in my life.

I havne’t thrown up so much due to drinking in my life.

Bad decisions.

I know better.

I know that I shouldn’t over do it.

I know my limits, but I went over.

Inhibitions were down the more I drank and the higher the stress level.

Stress.

Alcohol.

Not a good mix, but that’s how I deal.

I didn’t want to think about the lack of control anymore.

I found a new normal as I nursed Relish back to health.

I found a new normal as I tried to find a new home for Chutney.

I found a new normal as I worked and developed things at work.

Finding a new normal.

I guess that can be another theme of 38.

A new normal.

* * *

Here again in my usual.

Getting back to this, Getting back to the mindless rumbling that I started earlier in the week.

Hopefully it’ll be focused and concise.

Hopefully, it’ll be something.

A New Normal.

A Year of Bad Decisions.

38.

It was a rough year.

As stated above.

The stress.

The drinking.

The decisions.

My coping mechanisms.

But, in the end, I came out stronger.

Life threw so many curve balls at me, but I managed to get a few hits off them and in the end, I came out in the end, a little better.

My life changed in the past year, as one would every year, but my 38th year reaffirmed what’s important to me.

It helped me realize my faults as a person and it did help me realize how strong I am. I didn’t give up.

I didn’t give up on Relish.

To me, she was important. I was willing to throw money at fixing her, to keep her in my life, to right what I did wrong.

That was important to me.

I know I’ve always have this righteous judgmental attitude on many things and this was no different.

I fucked up. I was in a tight spot and things went sour, but I had to right it. I had to do what must be done to make sure things are all right, at any cost.

Money isn’t important to me. This past year just reaffirmed that.

As long as I’m fiscally secure, I don’t care how much I make.

Money is important. It’s important to me and my family, but it’s not the be all end all of things.

My mental health is more important.

Maintaining my stress level and being calm and Zen.

That’s always been important and this past year had tested me on that. I failed.

I failed so hard, but I managed.

When things got rough, I adjusted. I saw the light and picked up a new normal. I adjusted to a new life.

In the end, things worked out and that’s all I can hope for.

There’s a new status quo and things are good.

There’s a new normal.

* * *

Going out. Socializing.

I’ve been on this whole Year of Yes kick for a while now. The whole point for me is to say yes to going out.

I know if I don’t, I won’t go anywhere. I won’t meet people. I won’t socialize and maybe ultimately, I won’t meet a girl.

That’s what it all comes down to, right, but in the end, it’s all about being a little more social, getting out of my comfort zone.

In the past few years, as I go out more and more, socializing had become a lot easier for me.

I don’t feel uncomfortable being in social situations.

There are times when I do get the feeling of What the fuck am I doing here? but they are few and far between.

I think the company and the type of event helps too.

These little social events are mainly happy hours with coworkers. Most of them are going away happy hours and what not, so they aren’t too taxing for me.

They aren’t like going out and clubbing or hanging out or anything. They are simple and more manageable.

Talking to people gets easier. Alcohol helps, too.

This past year was no different.

I’ve learned to go out and get drinks with my coworkers.

I learned to talk to people I normally wouldn’t talk to.

I know to many, this isn’t much growth, but to me it is.

I know to many, they already think I’m a social butterfly.

That comes with age and experience.

If they’ve seen me a few years ago, they would say something different.

If they’ve seen me 15 years ago, they’ll know how far I’ve came.

I’m on my way to becoming a full fledge adult.

* * *

38.

As I wind down my last years of my 30s and head into a new decade, I’ve decided to act my age.

Adulting.

38 was the last year that I grew out my hair for donation. That was my third time. After that, I’ve decided not to grow it out anymore.

Having a man bun or pigtails in your 40s isn’t my thing.

I don’t think I can pull it off.

I decided it was time for me to give adulting a shot.

38 was the last year that I could have done it.

39 will be the year that I’ll prepare myself and work on being an adult.

Sohail brought up an interesting idea that the last year of each decade, one tends to do something outrageous like running a marathon or what not to make you feel young again.

I don’t know what mine is. Definitely not a marathon.

Again, I don’t think my knees could handle it.

Deciding to start adulting was probably one of the better decisions I’ve made in my Year of Bad Decisions. Of course, it’s a little too early to tell.

Fuck, it could be one of the worse decisions I’ll ever make, but I won’t know until I get there.

Let’s hope not.

* * *

Old.

38.

It was a year when I finally feel how old I am.

My body hurts.

My body is always tired.

It could be that I’m not getting enough iron or vitamins in my body.

My body felt like it did a few years ago before I started taking iron supplements.

I stopped taking it for a few years because of my stomach issues, but I’m back and I still tired.

38.

Fucking old.

Body hurts.

Knee hurts.

I’m out of shape even though I walk on average 9-11 miles a days.

I stand most of the day.

It isn’t until I lay down after dinner when my body collapses and by 9, I’m ready for bed.

I still remember a few years ago it wasn’t until 10 pm.

Age.

Old.

My legs haven’t felt the same after the fiasco that was my Yosemite trip.

The cramping fucked up my legs.

My knees always hurt.

I know how my brother feels now.

Fucker.

Old.

Age.

Getting old sucks.

* * *

This entry isn’t going how I hoped.

It’s usually on the second day when I can pull my head out of my ass and write something.

Hopefully today will be no different.

Fuck it…let’s go.

38.

I’ve already documented my problems or touched upon the many issues that I had with the past number.

I’ve also hinted at the direction that I want to take my last year of my 30s, which has become my favorite decade of my existence to date.

In the past 10 years, I’ve found myself, grown comfortable in my skin and accepted my flaws and worked on so many issues that I had.

I’ve come a long way.

What’s next?

What else is there for me to work on in the coming decade? What’s there for me to do as I start adulting?

I want to take this last year to prep for that, for my next decade.

I hope that it’ll be better than this last one. I hope that it’ll be more growth and more self-discovery.

I can only hope.

This past number taught me a lot.

It taught me many lessons and failures and all I can do is to accept them, learn and grow.

It taught me that not all of my decisions are great ones.

It taught me that I don’t have to do everything that I think is right. I have the control.

I don’t have to cave into the decisions of the masses or other people.

All decisions are mine to make, but when I make a decision, I have to live by them and commit.

If things go wrong, I am liable. I am responsible. The decision was ultimately mine to make.

Own up to it.

I’ve been good on that part. Not blaming others for my mistakes.

I know that I shouldn’t be so hard on myself, especially on things that are out of my control.

I didn’t know Chutney was so aggressive even though I had a feeling it might be the case. I knew, but I didn’t follow my gut.

I made the decision, things happened, and I had to take responsibility for it.

Do I regret what I did? In a way, no. I wanted to save the dog. I wanted to give the dog a chance at a life than being abandoned by people that couldn’t’ take care of it.

I was compelled by my heart and my conscience.

That part of me will always be with me. I’m compassionate.

I just need to learn there is a time and place for things, I don’t have to act on everything, and I can’t save everyone.

38.

It may not seem like it, but the Universe has a way of making wishes come true. It maybe not seem like it, but it does.

I handle stress like how many others do, and that’s by drinking.

I know that when I drink, I can get a little belligerent and in the long run, unsafe. I take many more risks than I normally would.

My health, especially my mental health, had been one of the things that I had been focusing on in the past year or so.

The pressures and stress from work brought to my attention how unhealthy my copying mechanism is.

I’m aware of it.

I’m not an alcoholic, but I do use it to unwind and decompress.

Spending money on food and restaurants is another way that I deal with stress. I’m not as concerned about this, but sometimes I can go all out.

Food comforts me.

Alcohol numbs me.

38.

The Universe in its strange way helped me realize my problem and I’m making an effort to be more responsible.

No over drinking.

No driving drunk.

Plan ahead.

I’m not perfect, nor will I ever be, but I’m aware. That’s number one. Being aware of the issue, so I can fix it.

Owning up to my faults and realizing that I want to change.

Fix it.

The Universe…it’s a love hate thing between the two of us.

Hopefully we’ll have a better understanding of each other in the future.

It works in mysterious ways.

* * *

As tough as I thought the last year was, there’s good that came out of it.

I’m learning to be more patient and learning to take care of my mental health.

I know there were many things that I need to do and be more on top of.

I can’t put so much pressure on myself, especially when it is out of my control.

I need to be easier on myself.

Life.

38.

Give myself a break.

Cut myself some slack.

Things will always get better.

There’s always a light at the end of the tunnel.

See the light.

38.

You were rough.

In the end, it was a much-needed test of patience and lesson that I needed to learn.

It’ll be a number that I’ll look back and remember how I handle things. I survived it with wounds, but I stronger because of it.

39.

I welcome you.

It’s a blank slate, a white canvas waiting for my strokes.

The Universe, whatever you have in stored for me, bring it.

With this, it’s over.

39, let’s go.