Where Did Cindy-jo Go?

I completed all the work outs listed, even the ones not in green, but I procrastinated a bit. So, now I’m behind on this week’s schedule, but I’m positive I will catch up.

Every day I’m still amazed at how many things I have to think slightly differently about than the average home owner.

So, Florida recently was visited by Hurricane Dorian. Although my coast got lucky, and we barely had more wind and rain than any other day in rainy season, we still had to prepare for the worst, just in case. So, I stored 12 gallons of water on board the van, bought some non perishable food, and filled up the tank. Plus, I even filled up an extra container of gas as well. So, as far as basic preparations I was good for whatever.

The thing is, living in the van I have two choices when facing a category 4/5 hurricane; I can drive away or I can stay and hunker down.

Driving away, I would have to decide early on to do. Since I would hardly be the only one with this brilliant plan, I’d need to get out early or face the immense bumper to bumper traffic of everyone else also leaving SWFL. Then there are the gas shortages. I live in Fort Myers. So, I easily have at least 5 hours of driving north before I would cross into Georgia. With that much traffic, gas stations along the highway become overwhelmed and run out of gas quick. So, there’s always the chance I could end up stranded on the highway or some side road in some po-dunk town somewhere in northern Florida with no way to fuel up and a hurricane still looming behind me. This happened to a lot of people trying to escape Hurricane Irma in 2017. Even if I left in the middle of the night, I might see less traffic, but the gas situation would be no better. We are just too far south. Somewhere near Ocala I’d be running low, even with my extra container filled up. That wouldn’t get me much farther.

Choice two is to stay and hunker down. Perfectly fine if I have somewhere to park the van that is secure. I could have pulled it into my old warehouse, but I recently moved to a much smaller one. So, that’s out. I could park it in a parking garage, but that means I’d have no control or idea what would happen to the vehicle once I’m not around. Meaning, if I didn’t choose my spot wisely, I wouldn’t be nearby to move it to a better location. I could park it at wherever I’m hunkering down at, but that would leave it vulnerable to flying debris. If I have to have my vehicle repaired, then I suddenly will have to figure out what my couch surfing opportunities would be and what stuff do I leave behind, and what do I take with me, while repairs are being made. Good thing my friends love me, and I have plenty of places to go.

Either way, it was a conundrum. I can’t just board up my windows. I don’t know I wouldn’t find my van on it’s side, trashed by the time a storm of that magnitude passes. And running, I take my chances with gas shortages and finding myself completely exposed on the side of a road somewhere. All of it sounds crappy.

Then there’s also the cost of running. It’s early September right now. Peak of off season, and I’m so broke right now Ramen noodles are looking like they will become the staple in my diet soon. I don’t just have $300 for gas and road food lingering about. Especially, just to drive away and have to turn right around again. Money right out the window.

I guess the point is mute now. The hurricane didn’t happen here, this time, and I stayed too long to run anyway. BUT I will have to think about my plan a little better for the future. So, I don’t end up wondering what the hell to do next time.

The very last time I drove out to the Florida Trail, I spent at least part of the night crashed at a Walmart in LaBelle. In the morning, as the sun was rising, I drove the rest of the way to the trailhead.

On the way are vast fields of orange groves. Since I was a little kid growing up down here, when my dad or mom would take us places, it would give me a thrill to see the rows of trees as we passed by. It would almost create this optical illusion as your eye tried to focus on the rows, but quickly each were replaced in your line of sight, over and over. I remember going to the u-pick and picking the oranges off the trees, down similar rows. Orange groves continue to make me happy even today. Strange how little things like that stick in your head and psyche. It’s part of who I am.

As you may already know, it’s rainy season here in Southwest Florida. Being that said, the last hike offered up all sorts of nonsense. At times, I had to trudge through mud and black water. Not my favorite thing to do, but necessary if I ever want to complete the Florida Trail. I vowed after that last trip I would not return until I had a machete and waders with me. Well, the machete I immediately went out and bought. Walmart special. Flimsy, but I’m not chopping down trees, just trying to get weeds out of my way.

The waders are for the obvious. It sucks having wet boots, and it sucks having them almost suction cupped right off your feet just trying to make it from point a to b. The muck at the bottom of wetlands can be thick and slimey as hell. Lose a boot, and I’m walking barefoot home long before I’d stick my head and hand down into the slime to retrieve it. Gonna be a long walk home.

I still haven’t gotten my waders, but there is a Tractor Supply in Clewiston I might be visiting tomorrow morning. I’ve been checking around. I’m getting full overall waders this time. Yes, is it more gear to carry? Sure, but so worth it. If Tractor Supply doesn’t sell what I need, there’s always Amazon. There are just some things I like trying on before I buy, and this would be one of them.

In the meantime, today I counted up all my Strava miles for the year. It’s August, and granted the year isn’t over, and also, my Strava miles aren’t the complete picture of everything I’ve done all year, but I digress… They are what I have, and they say I’ve only walked between 500 and 600 miles this year. That’s not what I thought it would have been. I pictured my number being way higher than that. I’m so disappointed in myself. I need to work harder. So I am. This is early enough in my training where I still have room to grow. It’s not crunch time. Yet.

Well, but it is another Monday, Tuesday, and it’s late. This means I need to either hit the road so I can find a nice spot to crash at a little closer to my destination at the trail head, or I need to get some sleep now, and get up in a few hours and hit the road. Leaning toward the latter, but I’m notorious for not being a morning person, and if I have no legitimate obligations tomorrow, there’s a chance I’ll hit snooze and sleep in. I need to grab at motivation when I have it right in front of me. Carpe Diem!

The other day was the first time I have attempted to wash my van, and a few things became inherently clear during the process. Number one, I am short. I mean, maybe not compared to the general female population, but definitely next to my van. I just didn’t think about how the heck I was going to reach the upper portions of my vehicle to clean them, before I set out on the task. Luckily my friends helped with a stick and a washing mitten. Made due and got the job done. Looks great, but I forgot to hit the very back. So, you can still see the delineation line between dirty and not so. Whoops.

In the meantime, I moved my belongings to a smaller warehouse hoping this would help facilitate my getting rid of more crap. It was successful, but there is no AC in my new unit, and I pay for AC. They have been poo pooing me about when it’s going to be fixed, but after a week with no plan in sight, I finally got mad.

I was good and angry when I got inside. I feel bad for the guy behind the counter, but he was the one in charge that day. The manager was off. Her name is Lou and she’s really a nice lady, but I need results. No AC and being nice was getting me nowhere. I have guitars and art, electronics and other things in my warehouse I don’t necessarily want to be sitting in 90 degree heat. Because that’s what it has been getting to in there. I installed a thermometer. I’m taking pictures and showing them. Infuriating.

I ended up threatening to move locations and demanding a truck for free. Also insisting they call the AC people today. I had them call the other location and let them know I was on the way.

I get down to the other IStorage off Daniels. I view a few units, not really what I was looking for, and ever so slightly more expensive than what I am currently paying. Meh…. Anyway, the manager at this new location ended up digging into the AC issue for me, and put an order in for servicing. He said they would be looking into the issue today. He also suggested I call District Management to see if they can compensate me in some way. So, I will be doing that tomorrow.

As far as van life, I took the rig in to see my friends down at Alico Center Tire & Auto. I got an oil change, and they reminded me I will need new rear shocks. There’s also the issue with my engine light coming on. It’s not right now, but it had been since my trip with my niece, which I returned from weeks ago. Originally, when I had it diagnosed, it said it was the gas cap. So, I bought a new one from the dealer. When one of the guys was under my vehicle he found a loose tube and tightened it down. They said the engine light being on would be no big deal, but they would check out two codes for me online, and when I see them next they can fiddle more if it’s still an issue. So, all good for now. Just have to budget for some repair work.

Also, surprise, someone apparently hit my front end. They said it looked like someone with a hitch backed into the van at some point and showed me the damage to the undercarriage. Ugh… I’m guessing it was when I was at a rest stop or in one of the parks or camp grounds. There are people with huge rigs backing out of tight spots all the time. You can’t see the damage from just walking by it, you have to look under the vehicle. The plastic bumper hides it well. If it’s not one thing, it’s another.

So, Mike, also known as Drunky McDrunkered, called today, but he didn’t call my number, he called Sammy’s. Sammy said he sounded just as messed up as he did yesterday, but he had a warning for me. The dude was trying to find me and just to be aware.

Sammy amused himself by messing with him. Asking if he knew what day it was? Etc.. Great. Agitated drunk guy. Awesome! From the conversation it was made clear he didn’t understand who he had called. He obviously thought he had dialed my number. Funny thing is, during his drunk haircut he said he had deleted the number I called from earlier that day. I guess not.

Since Clip Joint is literally five minutes from this guy’s house, and I know I’ve already told him on at least one occasion before the drunk fest, where my new shop was, I decided to move my vehicle, and subsequently just leave the property in case he decided during his drunken stupor, it might be a good idea to swing over and say hello while I’m completely alone in the building. Yeah, I’m good.

Being that I live in the van, and he knows what it looks like, I suppose I won’t be crashing any time soon at the shop. It’s not an unsafe neighborhood, but it is very quiet and there isn’t much going on around there at night. I always carry a firearm, but I don’t want to tempt fate, if you know what I mean. Better safe than sorry.

This has nothing to do with travel or van life, and everything to do with my chosen profession.

As a barber, sometimes your conversations with people can be very superficial and contain a lot of small talk. Sometimes it’s all laughs. Sometimes it’s all downs, and sometimes you hear personal shit from people’s lives that can be, to say the least, shocking. You are the bartender without the booze, psychologist without the degree, and friend to bend an ear when there’s shit that you just need to get off your chest without fear of reprisal or judgement. I am here. I am your barber, and I’m happy to be your sounding board. In fact, I’m honored and I love it.

On the other hand, with such great responsibility, comes, at times, great risk and pain in the ass events that you wish didn’t come with the territory, but you know, basically par for the course.

I got a call today from a client while in the middle of a cut. It was someone I’ve been cutting hair for for some time, but a bit infrequently. So he’s familiar to me, but when he called and told me his name, I had to rack my brain to put the name with the face.

We will say his name is Mike, but I know him as Michael. This was the just the first issue. He was also calling from a number that was registered to someone else, apparently his fiance’. I figured that out later. He also sounded quite drunk. He could barely form sentences, but I made out what I needed to from the conversation.

He mentioned knowing this was odd he was calling me of all people, but he needed help and didn’t want to call anyone he knew too well. He was parked at a local church, right up the street, but didn’t want to drive. He needed a ride to the doctor, and he couldn’t wait. It had to be ASAP. He asked if I could give him the ride, or if I knew someone who could, but he wouldn’t tell me what kind of trouble he was in or any of the circumstances. That was either because he was too fucked up to reiterate what happened, or because it was bullshit. I’d say closer to the latter, but I didn’t know what the hell was going on at the time. I told him I had a guy in the chair, but I would call him back within ten minutes, which I did.

I agreed to pick him up and take him to the doctor. I’m not going to let a brother down. It’s not in my nature, but I’m also not a dumb ass. I quickly picked up my friend Sammy, who literally lives around the corner, and popped my firearm into my pocket, just in case. I’m a firm believer that most people are good, but if you add a little substance abuse to a situation, sometimes the switch gets flipped, and I don’t know this dude that well. We headed to the church.

As we drove, I remembered this is the same guy who has called on previous occasions a bit hammered, made an appointment and then didn’t remember doing so. He would either not show up, or call back after the fact. The weird thing is, sober he’s pretty proper and professional seeming. Flip the switch, and go…..

We call to let him know we are at the church, and surprise, he isn’t there. He says he’s going to text the address. He’s now at his house, but still needs a ride. It’s across the street from the church. So, we head that way, and wait for a text. It doesn’t come. We call again. He says he sent the text, but sent it to the wrong number. He sent it to my job. So, he sends it again to the right number. We get it, and pull in.

As soon as he walks out, I now put the face with the name and the whole picture becomes clear. He slowly makes his way up to the van. My window is rolled down and he’s obviously inebriated. Seeing Sammy with me, he decides he still needs a ride to a doctor, sighting mental health issues. He invites Sammy to drive him. He invites us inside to meet his baby. He’s all over the charts, finally saying he doesn’t want to go to the doctor, but thinks he needs a haircut. Sammy starts to get pissed.

His fiance’ eventually walks out into the driveway as well. Clearly she is sober and not amused. She asks us to please not give him a ride anywhere. We agree. I ask if he’s going to be OK, and I ask her if she is OK. She says yes, but I can only imagine the shit she’s been through already today. It’s 1PM and her man is FUCKED UP.

The conversation gets a little more jumbled and weird and Sammy starts to lose his patience with Mike. Words start flying and the conversation between the two becomes more than hostile. We agree to push off before this gets any uglier. Somewhere in the mix of all this, Mike says he still needs help mentally and wants to come by the shop for a haircut so he can talk. I agree, thinking at this point he won’t make it out of the driveway.

I was wrong.

I bring Sammy home and we have a cup of coffee before I depart back to the shop. We discuss the event and how bad we feel for this guy’s fiance’. She’s just had a baby with this dude, less than 4 months ago. We discuss whether or not the dude, just wanted to mack on me, or if he legitimately needed help. We spoke about rehab and mental health. We spoke about people feeling overwhelmed and under appreciated, how people change and can be ugly when they drink or do drugs. We said our piece and parted ways fully having digested the circumstance, and maybe, just a little, we felt guilty about not being more assertive in helping this guy get to a doctor. As I said before, both of us were on the fence as to whether or not he was calling for help or just trying to drag anyone who would listen into his binge drinking session, if that’s all he was on. Anyway, world’s problems discussed and for the moment solved.

I get back to the shop. By now, I’m feeling like I want to do a wellness check. Just in case this guy was serious. I call against my better judgement. He answers. Turns out, he’s already come by the shop, and I wasn’t there yet. I told him I now was. He says he’s made his way to Blu Sushi at the other end of our building, but he’s just ordered a drink. Can he come by in five minutes for a haircut and chat? I agree.

Mike comes by, but only after he has successfully had himself removed from Blu Sushi. He announces that if the police show up, to just tell them he’s a bit on the wild side. I laugh, but with a hint of concern.

In the meantime, Don exits the building and sees there are quite a few people outside Blu Sushi. Plus two sheriffs are walking about. He asks Jesse, one of the bartenders, what the commotion is, and they tell him the sorted tale of Mike coming in and causing a scene because his drink wasn’t prepared quickly enough, and he didn’t rub well with one of the guys sitting next to him, when the man was only asking him to calm down, etc., etc.. Jesse gives Don a description of the man who has now disappeared. Well, ding freaking ding. Don realizes it’s my customer whom I currently have in the chair. Don makes his way over to speak to the sheriffs and tells them he thinks he knows where the guy is they are looking for. They ask him if he is currently causing trouble. Don says “No, not at the moment.” He would find he was mistaken. Don ends up coming back to the shop, no sheriffs in tow.

YET, the haircut is quickly turning into a total shit show. First, Mike doesn’t like the fluorescent lighting and keeps asking me to turn them off, which I refuse to do. How the hell am I supposed to give a cut in the dark? Next he doesn’t want the cape. I explain how he will be covered in hair by the time I’m done, and itchy as hell, if he doesn’t allow me to drape him for the cut. He refuses, saying it’s the principal. OK?.?.?.?….. In the meantime, the dude can’t sit still for a moment. He starts swaying back and forth in the barber chair. I alert him to the fact the arm on the chair is already loose, and if he keeps swaying, it’s going to give and the chair will be broken. He thinks this is funny and sways more. I start to get more firm with my plea, and he does eventually stop.

Then he starts smoking a vape. Don, my boss walks through the shop and asks him if he’d please not vape in the barber shop. His retort was “Would you please not have a dog in the shop. You’re lucky I haven’t reported you already.” AND it goes downhill from there. The two go back and forth until Don just gives up and walks away. It was just me and him in the shop with this guy, and I was barely keeping him calm as is.

I worked as quickly as I could, during which I questioned him as to what was going on with him. Why is he feeling like he needs help? Why are things so bad? What’s so bad? What does he think he needs to change? For a bit he entertained my questioning, but he was unable to focus and would of consistently go back to how much money he has, and all the property he owns, and how influential he is, and who his family is. Do I want a house? Because he can give me one. His mom is a judge in town. She’s also a contractor. They own all the design firms in town. Ya da fucking ya da.

Service done… I sympathize. Life can be fucking hard. Especially when you have a newborn at home, and probably a fiance’ that is not so thrilled with her decision to procreate with you, or by your choice of how to deal with your stress. Things can get messy in this fucked up world. I get it. I’ve been through hell myself, and I told him about the shit I had been through in a past life, long before I became a barber. I told him to be thankful, because he could be going through that level of shit. There is always a story that’s worse than your own. Recognize.

He heard me in his drunken stupor and thanked me for sharing that. Whether or not he remembers my tail, we will see.

Do I regret splitting up my day to potentially help someone that ended up being just drunk? No. Because it could have easily been a legitimate cry for help. I’m sure in some ways it was. He does need help. I don’t think he’s ready though. Honestly, after talking with Sammy more about this, I actually think he did just want company to go on a mad mission with. He didn’t want to be alone. Nobody does. I get it.

Part of living in the van has been learning to live with less stuff. Even though my day to day revolves around all that is within the walls of my van, I literally have an old part of my life that continues to plague me, the dreaded storage unit.

Filled with things that I don’t necessarily use daily, but also don’t necessarily want to give away or sell, the warehouse is a constant drain of what is now close to $300 a month. Why?

This Tuesday, I had finally had enough.

My studio, aka warehouse, is in many ways necessary. I’m a professional artist and many of the items in my warehouse pertain to that work. I can’t just dispose of the work space and storage all together, but in truth there are also old photo albums, antiques, and furniture I’ve had literally all my life.

After selling a couple of the last large items, like my boat and shelving units, etc., I think I’m at the juncture where, although I’m not completely walking away, at least I’m further downsizing. I spent literally all yesterday moving from my 10×20 storage space to a cozy 10×15. This will save me about $70 a month. Doesn’t seem like a lot, or hardly worth all the effort of a move, but honestly, I’m a big believer in every little bit counts.

Each decision we make, however large or small, either contributes to our goals or goes against them. I’m going to say this was a small step in the right direction for me. I mean, ultimately, I’d love to have just my barber shop and my van, and nothing else. Meaning, at a point I’d need to find a way to ditch the studio/warehouse all together, somehow.

For now, just this small step into downsizing further gives me the hint of a warm fuzzy feeling. So, I’m going with it. Mission accomplished. To freedom from our stuff! Cheers!

Side note: It absolutely amazes me that although I literally live in a tin can no bigger than a large closet, I still find it possible to lose stuff. I called both my friends Sammy and Jennifer this morning in search of my favorite brown sweat pants and my yellow notebook. Both I found on board immediately after my inquiry…. Ugh.

I suppose if I’m going to live in a van and park at random locations, I should expect to see some random crap go down. It’s inevitable. Right?

Tonight I’m in front of my gym sitting in my van watching YouTube and contemplating whether or not I would like to go inside. A young couple emerges and get into their car; the guy in the driver’s seat and the girl in the back.

She looks like the typical twenty something with the cute gym garb and a ponytail. She’s got curves, but petite. Her boyfriend, I assume, is a skinny, taller kid, also a twenty something with his sandy blonde hair in a Mohawk ponytail as well. Their body language said they were arguing at some point, but I seemed to be witnessing the portion where she gives him the silent treatment.

In the meantime, I’m not paying too much mind to the scene about to unfold. To tell you the truth, it was impressive I noticed them in the first place, being my cellphone held me so captivated.

Within five minutes, I start to hear screaming, and look up. The guy is now in the back seat. The rear door flies open, and the girl is fighting back as she attempts to flee. She makes progress quickly, but he pulls her back inside the vehicle before she can gain any traction.

I stumble for my headlights, in shock. I’m not sure what I’m seeing, only because I find it so unfathomable it’s happening right in front of me. Literally. In the parking space in front of me. I digest the scene, as the girl jets out of the vehicle, and my lights come on.

It was that fast. I distinctly heard her scream, “What are you doing?” just before this moment. Then just as quickly as it escalated, it was over. The guy realized I saw the whole thing immediately, and climbed back into the front seat.

The girl is walking back inside the gym, clearly upset, as the guy pulls out of the space and starts to drive her way. He yells out the window for her to “Come on!” as if it’s her signal to get back in the car, for them to drive away. Maybe to somewhere where there aren’t headlights blaring at you when you want to assert a little control.

She ignores him, and enters the gym.

He backs the car up, and reparks in another spot not facing any cars. My lights are still on, and I haven’t moved my vehicle. I’m just watching. Waiting to see if he’ll get out of the car. After several minutes he finally turns the car off and heads inside the gym. I don’t see them again.

A lot has changed in my life, and I haven’t really been keeping up with this blog, but maybe that needs to change.

I recently came back from a three week road trip with my niece who is 14. We traveled in my new van which is currently about half way built out. It’s a Ram Promaster 1500, high top. We explored much of New England and the eastern coast and Appalachian Mountain ranges down into Virginia. She wasn’t much for the hiking per se, but we made it work with camping and day hikes and exploring cities like Niagra Falls, and Salem. She’s a good kid, but I’m not used to kids, so we did have our moments which I think is natural. Would I do it again? In a heartbeat.

So, now I’m back in Fort Myers. My boss made the normal getting bitchy routine when I got back. I gave him my two weeks. He asked if I would stay on until he found another barber, which of course I will. I’ve been there nine years. Something has been changing with me lately though. My penchant for bullshit is about the size of a dime. The drama my boss likes to create is now not only old, but unbearable. So, it’s time to move on. Also, I have my own shop now, and I need to start focusing on that business instead of being afraid to pull the plug on my “job”.

In the meantime I’m still hiking the Florida Trail. It looks like a freaking jungle right now, and I swear if I’m going to continue to go out in summer during rainy season, a machete and waders are imperative. I don’t care how much they weigh. BUT it is still beautiful out there and the wildlife is fully alive at this time of year. Kind of amazing. I’m glad I am able to get out there and see these things, because sometimes it dawns on me that many people never will. I’m lucky, I guess.

I’m still out there looking for love by the way. I’ve found several men I think worthy, but the common message is “I’m working on myself. I’m not ready for a relationship. You are too good for me.” This is what I have heard in one form or another from the last four men I have wanted to date. Unfortunately, I’m wiser than that. The only commonality these four situations have is me. All these men come from completely different walks of life, from different places and are of different ages. So, it’s me, not them.

So, what is it about me that chases men off so quick? Or is my friend Alex right, my picker is broken. There is nothing wrong with me, I just attract men who can’t give me what I need. OK… I’m asking myself what I can do to understand my predicament more clearly. Looking for a partner can be exhausting, and in the meantime, I’m pretty freaking lonely walking alone in the jungle. Don’t get me wrong. I’m good. I don’t need a man to hold my hand and keep me safe in this world , I’d just like some company. Oh and a massive amount of great sex would be kind of cool too. A girl can only take care of herself so many times before that becomes a bore. So, yeah.

My dating profile:

I own my own business. I have no debt. Money isn’t much of a motivator for me, but I never have a shortage of it. In fact, I need very little to live comfortably, but I work my ass off at most everything I set my mind to. I’m typically successful in my endeavours.

I have never been married. So, there’s no ex to contend with. I have no kids, but I like them. I don’t have any animals, but I like them also.

I live in a van, and I’m extremely handy with power tools. Building things is a passion.

I’m good for extensive periods of time by myself. I’m not the jealous type, and I love it when a man has his own interests and his own life outside of me. So do I, so…

I like all food, but I’m in great shape. I’m told I’m pretty. I’ve also been told I’ve been aging well.

I’m intelligent. (I think.) I also think I have a pretty good sense of humor.

In general I absolutely love people. I have amazing friends and I’m close to my huge family.

I’m spiritual. (Buddhist) I meditate and love yoga.

I’m good with mountains, beaches, grasslands or jungle, and I love any activity that is outdoors. I love traveling, to wherever as often as I can.

I’m creative. I’m an accomplished artist, writer, plus I play guitar and sing.

I’m good with PDA and I am very hands on, a healthy sex life is important to me

I am open to debate and discussion, I rarely get angry or yell, and I’m not into name calling or hitting. I can be a great listener, but also pretty good at communicating my thoughts.

What is it that makes me so undesirable????