So then...after much hemming and hawing...and some not-so-wonderful developments at my current position...I've decided to make the move to Portland, OR.

I'll be packing things up (not furniture..I refuse to move my "couch-that-weighs-a-ton" and several other pieces all the way across the damn country...) and heading out in July. As such..stay tuned...there will be a small yard sale (anybody know anyone who needs a ballast to run a 400w Metal Halide lighting system? lol), and, I'm sure, at least a couple of "going away" parties.

I plan on continuing to post (You can take the boy out of Buffalo, but you can't take Buffalo out of the boy...lol) as another West Coast Operative...;).

I do have to admit...I've got plenty of mixed emotions about all of this. It feels like "graduating" all over again. I've got one match left with the guys from South Buffalo...I'm already starting to get those same feelings I had during my last football games at Wilson and St. Lawrence. The "this is the last time I'll do X..." feelings. Now, I know there is plenty of rugby to be had out there..but this is the last time I'll be with this particular group of guys...with this group of brothers. But I'm also excited about meeting a new group of guys...wearing some new colours..facing some new competition.

Anyway...like the title says..."Alea iacta est.". Wish me luck!

Rugby report:

Two matches (160 minutes) played. Win vs. Erie RFC, Win vs. Canisius College RFC.

Injury report: Severely sprained left ankle, pulled muscles in left leg (near knee, hip), rake marks to abdomen, chest, back, arms, legs, cleat punctures on hand, leg, general soreness.

Conclusions: The human body is not designed to play two full matches of competitive rugby in a day. I was impressed with the fact that for 158 minutes I was fit enough to keep up and compete. I do however feel that I was injured because I just didn't have "anyting left in the tank" by that point. So now I've got two weeks to gear up and get healthy before the Dead Ants tournament in Batavia. On the good side of things, we dominated in the lineouts (I stole 4 or 5 each game...nothing beats the feeling of being 12 or 13 feet in the air) and in the scrum...good news for our future.


Now the dilemma....

What would you do if one of your friends told you you could probably get a good position in a part of the country you'd always wanted to live...but that meant leaving behind everything you'd ever really known and moving all the way across the country?

A friend of mine in Oregon told me his company is looking for someone and that I'd probably fit the bill. He said I could live with him...either on a semi-permanent basis or until I get a place of my own. I've always wanted to live on the west coast...but to pick up everything I've ever known and head out there? The prospects haven't ever been this "real" to me before.

Big decision time, eh?

Oy....lol.

-Austin

The following story takes place within a 72 hour period.....(lol):

What an absolutely CRAZY weekend! Lots of fun, some pain, too much booze, weird tan lines, bad phone calls.....but I digress...let's take it from the top, shall we?

Friday started for me at 5:00 am. I got up, went for a drive to procure nicotine and gasoline, and then stopped off for caffeine (that's alotta -ines!), before returning home at about 6:45. After that, I put in my 8 GRUELING hours at work...(seriously...on a "holiday" Friday...it was torturous..). I got home and was completely and totally wiped out, but as I REALLY wanted to try and get laid this weekend (I know, I know...that's not conducive to meeting someone and falling in love...but it's been a while...even my last blowjob was weeks ago...), I decided to head out to Allentown with (e:theecarey) and see what we could find. However, I was in need of a nap at this point (having been up since 5), and so I decided to hit my bed for a couple of hours. So I hopped into bed around 7 (after dinner, setting up plans, etc...), telling (e:theecarey) to call me before she left her house, which would give me about 45 minutes to get ready to head out. Well...for those who haven't slept with me (or near me, around me, etc...)...I sleep like a friggin log. My house could collapse around me Looney-Toons style and I would still be asleep. So not only did I miss (e:theecarey)'s first phone call to say she was leaving...I also missed her 2 phone calls when she arrived at my house...plus her knocking on my door...plus my neighbour calling me...plus the neighbour's dog barking. However, one of her calls (in combination with everything else) did finally manage to rouse me from dreamland...and I managed to pull on shorts and a t-shirt (thank god...sometimes the whole sleeping naked thing can be a bit of a liability...lol) before almost taking a header downstairs to open the door. There was (e:theecarey)...all glitzed up and ready to hit the town...and here I was, in Adidas shorts, a rugby t-shirt, and unable to even form a complete word. After a couple of cigarettes, I was able to start speaking and then I hopped in the shower to get ready to go. After the shower and a bottle of wine, we were ready to hit the town. We made it down to Frizzy's by about 11:30, and met up with (e:vincent) and his friend. Had a great time...drank too much...wound up at The Pink...were there until close. (e:theecarey) and I then said our good-byes to (e:vincent) (even though we were all having a great time...we'll all have to do that again...:) ) and we headed home.....okay...well...not home...to Jim's. Yes...to Jim's...where the birds were already chirping away on Elmwood...which reminded me...I had a rugby match to play in 9 hours. Oh..I failed to mention that I got a last minute notice earlier on Friday afternoon that the Buffalo Old Boys had requested that we play a B-side match for them against Syracuse (our rivals) on Saturday? Ooops...silly me. Oy. So we ate, and drove back to my place...where I thankfully was able to crash out by about 6 am. Which, by my half-assed plans, allowed me 5 blissful hours of sleep before rushing around to get my ass ready to play. Still didn't get laid...but oh well..had a great time anyway.

So those 5 hours of sleep I was planning on getting? Yeah right...they turned into the 3 hours of sleep I ACTUALLY got before the birds and the big blazing ball of nuclear fusion we call a sun woke my ass up. Hungover and dehydrated, I set about making the most of my morning. That is to say, I made lots of coffee, popped some pills, grabbed an entire pitcher of water, and took about 6 hits off an asthma inhaler to clear my lungs of all of the smoking I had done the night before while crashing out on my couch. At 11 (the proposed "wakeup" time...), I dragged myself back upstairs to hit the shower and try and wake myself up enough to go out and run for 80 minutes. I then tossed on some spandex, some shorts, and headed off to Delaware Park. I arrived to find the party already gearing up and found a good spot to watch the A-side game with the rest of my team. I grabbed a couple of pre-game beers and we talked while watching Buffalo beat the snot out of 'Cuse (thank god..I hate those guys..). The highlight of the match was seeing our very loquacious team president (McGowan) be stopped mid-sentence by the sight of two very attractive (I'd go as far as to use the term "lipstick" for both of them) lesbians in full lip-locking glory. So, as the A-side match was winding down, I got kitted up to head in for the B-side match. This was my first REAL (non-practice) rugby of the spring..so I wasn't expecting much. I played a decent match...no real touches but a lot of good rucking and several good tackles. I did spend 3 minutes in the sin bin (only the 3rd time of my career) for a "late hit". Listen...rugby is a rough sport, and I WILL make it a lot rougher if you're going to slow down and showboat in the try zone. This kid thought he was going to waltz uncontested in between the posts to touch the ball down. Well...that's well and good..but you'd better do it at full speed or I'm going to DRILL you into the ground....so that's what I did. Unfortunately...he DID touch the ball down when I was about 5 steps out (moving at full speed...), but there was no way I was going to stop. All in all..it wasn't a bad first match...not one of my best...but definately passable seeing how hungover I was. After the match, I stripped down, put on my "after" clothes, and started drinking. The Old Boys were kind enough to have 2 kegs of Flying Bison on hand for the afterparty. Those kegs, combined with the 5 cases of Molson we already had for our (South Buffalo) team alone, made for a great afternoon. We stood around eating dogs/burgers and drinking great beer while having a blast recalling good hits from the match, making plans for the evening, and reliving old times. Most of the guys decided they wanted to head to the Colonie Lounge (please see previous posts for warnings about this strip club...!!), but in my completely obliterated state I just couldn't bring myself to go drink more beer and stare at less than attractive naked women (besides..that doesn't help me get laid...lol). Besides...spending the day before Easter at a strip club just seemed so incredibly wrong. (This is the day Christ spent in Hell...so to replicate that experience, I decided to spend the day at the Colonie...hmmm...LOL) So I hopped back in my car and made the trek back to my house in South Buffalo...where the plan was to take a nap and get up and head out again. Well...that didn't happen...the nap became "Austin has LEFT THE BUILDING" and I ended up waking up at 8 am Sunday morning. (If you're keeping score...I still didn't get laid at this point...)

Sunday morning started out great. I grabbed the paper, some coffee, turned on the TV to listen to the worthless Sunday morning network political jibber-jabber and nursed my wounds. (Total injury count: 4 cleat rake marks [chest, abdomen, knee, back], 1 contusion [right knee], general soreness to back, legs, butt, neck, shoulders. and sunburn to face [with bonus awful tanline mid-forehead due to scrum cap]) I got a call from a "friend" on Sunday afternoon...so I headed over to her place for a lazy Easter Sunday afternoon snuggling on the couch, watching bad TV and talking. It was fun and relaxing, but that's it....yup...no getting laid for me this past weekend. (Sorry...no good stories like (e:Jenks)' post...) And Sunday ended in probably the worst way possible. I got a phone call from my most recent "very-serious" ex. She's getting married. Yup...so now I'm 4 for 4 on the "you're an amazing guy and I love you but it just isn't working" breakups converting into "after we ended things, I met this great guy and now we're getting married...". Just friggin fabulous...y'know...I thought I was lonely before...but now...well...that's a whole new level of lonliness. Any woman out there feel like having a great time with me for a couple of years and then breaking up and finding the man of your dreams? Apparently..that's my lot in life. Oh well...my "Miss Perfect-For-Me" is out there...I'm sure I'll find her. No reason to let that spoil and otherwise good, fun weekend. Or maybe it is...I don't know...it's too much to ponder at this point. Things will happen if and when they're supposed to...I can't waste time and effort trying to force them.....

Sorry for being so verbose...just a lot of craziness....lol.

-Austin

So....I love Carl Sandburg (second only to T.S. Eliot). I love his love for the "common man" and the grit and grime of the city and humanity. I can definately identify with it (remember...the grandson of a farmer and a farmboy at heart here...lol).

I've read and reread this particular selection over and over again lately. Nothing else quite so succinctly defines how I'm feeling lately:
(I would hilite...but for some reason that isn't working for me right now...d'oh!)


"At a Window" - from Fogs and Fires

Give me hunger,
O you gods that sit and give
The world its orders.
Give me hunger, pain and want,
Shut me out with shame and failure
From your doors of gold and fame,
Give me your shabbiest, weariest hunger!

But leave me a little love,
A voice to speak to me in the day end,
A hand to touch me in the dark room
Breaking the long lonliness.
In the dusk of day-shapes
Blurring the sunset,
One little wandering, western star
Thrust out from the changing shores of shadow.
Let me go to the window,
Watch there the day-shapes of dusk
And wait and know the coming
Of a little love.

-Austin

Well...I survived Day One of outdoor practice. I escaped with only some minor injuries (a friction burn on my hip because I wore regular boxer-briefs instead of spandex and we worked on lineouts for about an hour...lol...getting hoisted 12 feet in the air by your shorts can lead to these sorts of things if you aren't prepared..the other injury was self-inflicted...a nick to my left ankle...when I get tired I start to overpronate and basically ended up dragging my cleats across my ankle), and today I'm ready to do it all over again.

On to the topic of the day...names. This actually came to me at practice on Tuesday...someone used one of my many nicknames...one that I hadn't heard in a while. (He called me McDerf...) This got me thinking of all the different names/nicknames I've had over the course of my life. So, I sat down last night and put together a fairly comprehensive list of them all, and decided to share (even the AWFUL ones..). If nothing else, this has brought back a ton of great memories....

Austin
Freddie
Frederick Austin
Craig
Fast Freddy
Craiger
Derf
Faust
Freddy-bear
Bear
Harvard
Federale
Fiddy-One
And One
Wales
Frelix
McDerf
Big Sexy
Bareback
Spurs
Slim Shady
"Auuuuuuustinyoudon'thavetoturnontheredlight"
Shrek

Now that you're all laughing.......I'll field any questions....lol.

Ahh..the first day of outdoor rugby practice for the season. It's a beautiful day...can't wait to get out and finally strap on the boots (for those who don't know, we wear 1/2" metal cleats...;) ) and start hitting... :). Wish me luck....hopefully I won't come back to work tomorrow broken...lol.

In honour of our first day of "real rugby" for the year, I've changed my user sound to the Haka, a traditional Maori war dance/chant performed by the New Zealand All Blacks (the national side) before the start of every match. It's something I listen to before every match...it makes my nerves stand on end and my skin tingle.

Also...I've decided to throw in the lyrics and translation...for those who care to know...


First the Maori:

Ka Mate! Ka Mate!
Ka Ora! Ka Ora!
Ka Mate! Ka Mate!
Ka Ora! Ka Ora!
Tenei te tangata, Pu'ru ru-huru,
Na'a nei tiki, Mai whaka-whiti te,
Ra Hupane! Ka-upane!
A Hupane! Ka-upane!
Whiti te Ra!
Hai!

Then the English:

We're going to die! We're going to die!
We're going to live! We're going to live!
We're going to die! We're going to die!
We're going to live! We're going to live!
This is the man, so hairy,
who fetched, and made shine the
Sun! Step upwards! Another!
Step Upwards! Another!
The sun shines!

"I like to read, she likes to write, she likes to sleep and I like to stay up all night...my friends say she's crazy, and I agree, but that's okay 'cause that's the way I like to be..."

A guy can dream, can't he?

The song is "Hey Girl" by OAR, btw............

Here are some thoughts on this past weekend:

-cigars, wine, and great conversation are a GREAT way to spend a relaxing Friday night. I've been reminded how lucky I am to have such good friends a lot lately. Thank you.

-I knew there was a reason why I don't listen to my gay friends' advice often. It's now Monday morning, I don't have any chest hair, and my skin is on FIRE! (Not to mention, I think it looks ridiculous...some people are just supposed to have chest hair...your resident hulking rugby player included...)

-While I'm not overly religious, the phrase, "When God closes a door, he opens a window.", could quite possibly ring true for me lately.

-I know a lot about myself...a middling amount about what I want...and no clue about what I am looking for in a relationship whatsoever.

-It's STILL too cold for me to run. I tried on Saturday. I went up to Delaware Park and turned in a two-mile time of 16 minutes. That's ridiculous...I just don't function well in cold weather. Trying to run when it's below 60 degrees is nearly impossible for me...my muscles don't work, my head isn't in it, it's just a disaster. Who wants to run with me once the weather REALLY turns?

-Along the same lines...when I run in the cold (even after stretching) my muscles SCREAM at me the next day or the day after that. Today my hamstrings are really tight. Whatever happened to that 15 year old goalie who could almost do a full split? (I know, I know...he turned into the 20 year old offensive lineman who sacrificed flexibility for bulk and strength...)

-There are some incredibly clueless intelligent people out there (myself included sometimes..)..we should all work towards alleviating that problem.

-The user sound...it's a little early...but a good sunny day when it's starting (thank god) to warm up a bit is the perfect time to break out one of the best of the old-school jams.

Another collection of thoughts/activities/ideas from the resident scatter-brain:

1) Rugby - Last night was practice. Overall, it was the usual..but for some reason, whether I'm getting a lot more fit or was well-rested or who knows, I wanted to run MORE. Yes...more running..I must be sick. It just wasn't enough of a work out. I want to be drenched in sweat and unable to breathe by the end of practice. I want to be so sore and tired I have a hard time depressing the clutch to shift gears on the way home. I want to have to crawl into the shower and just stand there and leet the hot water run over my body for 20 minutes. I know, I know...be careful what I wish for, right?
I also almost killed a poor kid last night. You see, our brilliant coach and a couple of the older guy decided they wanted to help start a high school developmental side through South Park High School. Great..no problem...but there are a lot of kids interested. And trying to hold a practice for 30 high school kids plus 15 men's club players in the same gym at the Old First Ward Center gets a little hectic. Anyway, we wound up playing speedball (touch rugby) at the end of practice yesterday and I went to make a tag on this poor kid and I don't know if he slipped or tried to duck, but he went down. Needless to say, without having a body there to "tag", I lost my balance and went sprawling. All I remember after that was a very "Matrix"-esque moment where I could see that if I didn't do something my elbow was going to connect with the side of his skull, my knee would have come down right on his abdomen and my entire 6'5", 215 lb frame would have fallen from about 3' in the air onto this poor little 16 or 17 year old, 120 lb kid. So...having a little bit of Neo in me (*laugh*), I contorted in mid air and rolled away a bit. Unfortunately...this caused me to land with all of my weight on my left knee and left elbow (knee first, beside the poor kid onto the hard gym floor, and then elbow as I twisted over backward in the air). So today, my left knee is killing me and my left elbow isn't too happy either, but at least I don't have to worry about a lawsuit from an angry parent or killing a poor little kid before he's even had a chance to experience life and love and sex and all those good things. *laugh*

2) "Faux-hemians". Just a quick little rant here. I can't stand what I call "faux-hemians" (rhymes with Bohemians). You know the type I'm talking about..you see them at Spot or in Allentown. I'm not talking about the real Bohemians..people with a soul, people who are authentic. I'm talking about the rich, pretentious (usually) college-aged kids who are buying their lattes and macchiatos on daddy dearest's credit card while talking about how their art history class is soooo hard. The ones who dress differently.....just like everyone else. The ones who misappropriate style, culture, language, and art to serve their own needs.....blah. Sorry...they bug me. There isn't anything "cooler" than being authentic...try it sometime.

3) Today's musical selection is "Black Rock" by O.A.R. (Of A Revolution). A fun little jam band that I love.