52 Weeks of Adventure

Talking to an editor this morning, the short one, I came the the realization that time moves by faster, the older you get.
Now I know I'm going to get virtual slapped, and possible physically slapped, by people a few years older than me when I say this:
"I'm already 26 and what do I have to show for it?"

Sure, I have had a few poems published, and I am a Master SCUBA Diver, and have a black belt in Tae Known Do and met Hulk Hogan in a bathroom at the airport.
But days and weekends tend to blur together in an obscure mess to the point I can't tell one weekend from another. I feel like my life is draining in a sea of mediocrity mediocritiness.
So I came up with a game plan to make each week more memorable.
In theory, if I can separate the different between weekends, just maybe, I can cause the forward march of time to slow to a crawl.

Here is my plan:
52 Weeks in a Year
52 Things I rarely do or have never done.

Each week I will do one of these tasks. I will then blog about it and take pictures to remember each moment, where time slowed down just a bit.
Being as I just came up with this idea for a resolution, my list is rather small.

Here are a few things I've been thinking about:

1. Hiking at Enchanted Rock
2. Camping at Lost Maples
3. Touring the San Antonio Missions
4. Renaissance Festivals
5. A weekend motorcycle trip stopping at B&Bs.
   
6. SCUBA Diving
7. Weekend at the Beach
8. Eating at my favorite place for wings in the world, Pluckers in Austin and trying the Cookie Bar up there as well.
9. Traveling to LA to see my brother
10. An all day movie marathon at a theater
    

I know that's only 10 adventures, because I can see the list numbered above, but I'm looking for ideas. Other people may have suggestions of activities I'm not even aware of.
Weigh in, let me know what you think.

Crazy People

When I am at home in my apartment, I do my best to keep to myself. Let's just say me and my apartment neighbors do NOT mix. I try to be friendly and outgoing but, it seems, no matter where I live I am plagued with people even crazier than I am!
In one apartment, the upstairs neighbor would have parties until 7am almost every night of the week, ignoring my pleas for silence, or an invite.
In another apartment the neighbor across from me was a Car Salesman. That should have been a red flag right there, but I felt bad for the guy. He had been tossed out by his wife who then moved her boyfriend into the home with her. I became a sympathetic friend, offering my assistance in any way. Long story short I gave out hundreds of dollars to help him, not to mention he stole a couple hundred dollars worth of clothing, then tried to guilt trip me that I wasn't helping him enough.
I breathed a sigh of relief when I moved to San Antonio. My neighbors are nice and quiet; despite the fact there is a family of four living next door in the same sized apartment as me. I thought I was free and clear of crazy neighbors... until Thursday.

My apartment complex backs up against another. The two are separated by a black wrought iron fence. I leave my bike under a parking canopy that sits next to the fence and park my Durango beside that.
Oh Thursday, I started taking the cover off my bike so I can go for a ride, crazy neighbor free, then I hear him speak. I look through the chipped iron fence and see a man, disheveled hair, shoeless, shirtless, standing there staring at me. Here's a bit of the conversation that followed:

Me: Excuse me?
Hippie: Hi.
Me: Hi.
Hippie: That your bike? (He points to the bike that I am removing the cover from)
Me: ...yes.
Hippie: So where's your boat?
Me: I'm sorry?
Hippie: I see you gots a trailer hitch, where's ya'lls boat?
Me: No boat, just the trailer hitch to tow things.
Hippie: How big is that bike?
Me: 1500CC (maybe goes 90mph)
Hippie: I used to ride motorcycles. Take my friends bike out for a spin. He wanted me to buy it. I didn't wear a helmet or nothing. One time I got that bike up to 200 on the freeway, even did a wheelie. But power on a bike like yours will kill you.

He then proceeded to talk to me about his brother who works on motorcycles and for Jesse James, the West Coast Chopper dude. Then he started running off to grab an article about motorcycles to show me. I told him I was actually running late to meet friends, which was true.
We said our goodbyes then I ran the cover inside and grabbed my helmet. I get on the bike and he shouts at me again, I look back and he is thrusting the article through the fence pointing at his brother then at Jesse James, side by side. I told him I really had to go and said goodbye again, then he told me one more story about how he almost bought the bike made for Jesse James. I managed to escape and revved my engine peeling out of the parking lot, glad to escape the onslaught of crazy.
When I returned a few hours later he was still there, sitting on a set of stairs by the fence. He stood up and anxiously faced me, to talk more about Jesse James I imagine. I picked up my cellphone and took my helmet off. My girlfriend thankfully called, giving me a reason to talk on the phone, ignoring him standing there. So far I haven't seem him again, but I know he will pop up when I lease expect it!

Beard Update

As you person, or persons, may or may not know, I am working on a futile attempt to grow a beard. This is probably the longest amount of time I have ever gone without shaving. Now many of you may not be able to tell, but there is a different over time. I have been taking pictures, cataloging my seemingly vain attempt.

The picture below is 14 Days without shaving.

Now you can see, hair in the front and along the side. Due to my Cherokee blood, my hair grows painstakingly slow. Typically hair doesn't fill in on my cheeks, just down the sideburns and underneath the chin.

18 Days:

21 Days:

As you can see there isn't much of a different in a week, unless you look closely. But there is plenty of time to see if my facial hair doesn't suddenly sprout and give me a wooly, albiet sultry, beard.

Only time will tell. I won't shave it until I leave for Los Angeles, but that is in a month.

The Beard Issue

The idea may be laughable, improbable and, dare I say, impossible.
I have given this a lot of thought and have been persuaded by many a friend. The whole thing could end up a disaster. But like every great step in life, you never know until you try.
The decision has finally been made: I'm growing a beard.

(Preferably, not like this one)

Now stifle those giggles and don't think I didn't see you roll your eyes. It is possible for me to have facial hair. From 16 to 22 I had a goatee. From 22 to 24 I was clean shaven, then from 24 on I have had a very nice soul patch.
It occurred to me that I have never attempted a beard. I know I have some Native American in me and therefore facial hair grows extremely slow, to the point of agony. I'm itching like crazy!
A group of friends encouraged me to try growing a beard, "just see what happens."
It has been a week and a half now without shaving. Many of you probably haven't even noticed. My 10 days without shaving looks like some guys after 24 hours. Will I be able to grow a full beard or will it come across stalkerish/rapist? Not exactly the look I'm going for. I do know though, that if I just grow a mustache, I look like a white guy trying to be Hispanic.

So, let's all watch along and see how these "beard" thing works out.