We're all Jekyll and Hyde

Walking east on Colorado Boulevard in Pasadena this morning, looking for a bus stop, I passed a very immobile man in a wheelchair--the kind of wheelchair with a control stick. The man had a sign that said something to the effect of "Please donate to stem cell research." Even though I am very comfortable with money right now, I walked right on by the guy without giving him anything. I felt like a dick before I even passed him because I knew I should've slipped him at least a dollar. I mean, how do you think I got the money that's currently in my pocket?

As I bought a cup of coffee a few minutes ago at The Coffee Bean in Upland, I found some money on the floor. For a moment I thought about keeping it without saying anything to anyone, but I couldn't just hold on to it without asking everyone if they were missing any money. So I asked the two girls behind the counter if they were missing anything. Nope. Then I asked the one other customer inside. He said he didn't think he was missing any money, but he looked inside his wallet and asked me, "Was it a 20?" His question was an adequate answer, so I handed him the $20 bill I'd found.

How many of you anonymous critics would've given up that 20? Better yet: How many of you anonymous critics, while living functionally homeless, would've given up that 20? (I don't expect you to answer. You already know the answer.)

JJ the crazy Cajun guy from Des Allemands called me this afternoon for the first time in quite a while, but I couldn't answer right then. I called him back about half an hour later, but I got his voice mail. I had been wondering lately if I would ever hear from JJ again, so his timing was interesting.

One of the girls working at this Coffee Bean is absolutely beautiful. She has the kind of beauty most guys probably can't recognize (because most guys are stupid). I want to tell her how beautiful she is, just so she knows at least one person sees it, but I probably won't because I'll end up saying the stupidest, most ass-brained thing possible. And it won't be adorably ass-brained, like a Ben Stiller character; it will be stalker ass-brained because I seem to have some kind of selective Tourette Syndrome whenever I dare talk to girls that attract me. She hasn't even given me "a look" or anything like that, though, so it really doesn't matter anyway. (But if you see this and I'm wrong, I'd love to hear from you: 614-738-3867.)

Oh yeah, and I returned my backpack to REI yesterday because it just kept falling apart. I couldn't exchange it for the same model because it's impossible to find the Palisade 80 in Medium right now. Luckily they had one Whitney 95 in stock. It's a little bigger than the Palisade 80, and it also costs $30 more, but I found an unplanned way around that. Y'see, I also returned my fifth(?) Therm-A-Rest Prolite 4 "self-inflating" sleeping pad yesterday because it lasted about 4 nights before getting a small puncture. This time, though, I exchanged it for a heavier, bulkier, more durable, and cheaper model. So even though I had to pay an extra $30 for the new backpack, I gained an extra $38 or so from the sleeping pad exchange.

Interestingly, I met a homeless guy/tramp last night that has a Palisade 80. He said he also has had problems with the hipbelt breaking, which was my major issue. (It's gonna happen with my new one, too, because the design is flawed big-time.)

I'm thinking about making a sign that says something like: "I'll use your donation more responsibly than God does." I need to figure out how to say the same thing in fewer words, though.

Also, I topped 1,400 walking-miles for 2008 yesterday morning, shortly after departing my temporary home near the Rose Bowl.

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