Intuition Is Real

I'm an intuitive kind of guy, it would seem. And, lately, this "skill" has been a little more active than in the past, as to warrant sharing.

First, a few months ago, I started seeing a pattern in my parking: wherever I would park, however randomly, I would find myself confronted with certain, repeating numbers on the license plates of neighboring cars (or, alternately, on a bumper sticker or other adornment). Now, my repeat-number drama is another phenomenon I've made some noise about, but the parking-space thing lent a new, intuitive dimension to it. The pattern goes like this: I'll be strongly and distinctly Compelled to park in a certain spot, and these Compellings will, almost without fail, land me squarely behind a license plate bearing one of "my" numbers (usually the number-repeat du jour). And that's how it goes as of late, again and again, such that, within the last few months alone, I've had it happen dozens of times, to the point of it becoming as common as the wind.

This particular flavor of the phenomenon is, admittedly, a tad murky, since you'd have to be me for such hard-to-convey subtleties like the Compellings and the conspicuous number-repeats to really have an impact (that is, seeing these numbers dozens of times over the course of a day, every day, for years on end, and always in nearly identical fashion). But, still, I found its mention appropriate to this post.

I dunno. Maybe someone will find this part notable (after all, I'm sure I'm not the only one experiencing this stuff).

* * *

Anyway. Moving along.

As for the second recent trend in my intuitive adventures, this one's a tad more somber: predicting the behavior of my fellow motorists. Or, rather, their rash, mortally dangerous behavior.

This hair-raising variant of my intuitive Compellings has popped up infrequently over the years, always in the gravely conspicuous fashion in this post's first link. However, unlike other kinds of synchronicistic phenomena I experience, these near-mishaps have, thankfully, been few and far between -- until last month, when I got two "near misses" within weeks of each other, both of them almost exactly alike.

The first was on 2/15, when I was stopped at a little four-way intersection within the parking lot of a large shopping center. I came to the intersection, stopped, waited ... but when my turn came up, something inside me said, "Stay" -- another Compelling, impossible to describe but no less striking. So I stayed. Then, a split-second later as I watched a truck approach the intersection, I had a second stirring, hot on the other's heels: that truck wasn't going to stop.

Well, the truck didn't stop. It sailed right through with barely a pump of the brakes, penetrating the exact space that my car's driver's side would've occupied had I gone through (as was logical and legal and totally "normal" to do). And need I mention that there was zero indication of the truck's murderous behavior beforehand (nor enough time for me to react even if there had been) ...?

And then, on the 29th, two weeks to the day, it happened again.

Another mini-intersection in a shopping center's maze-like parking lot. Another insistent Compelling to stay put when my time came to proceed. Another car barreling through the four-way stop, precisely as I somehow knew that it would (despite having no business of knowing such). And, of course, this all happened with no outward, logical indicators that would've allowed me to predict what was coming, even on a deeply subconscious level (or, again, to have time to react, with everything transpiring within a second or less).

This time, the only differences were that this car didn't even slow down, and that part of my Compelling was that it would not only blow through the stop sign but swerve through (which it did). Oh yeah, and this time, I wasn't in a car, but instead on my moped (which, for those unfamiliar with mopeds, are no match for any car, especially not a demonic minivan swerving by at speed).

* * *

My latest intuition was of a different, less-"Oh my God!" kind, and did not involve a motor vehicle in any capacity, parked or intersection-ignoring or otherwise.

This one involved food.

Umeboshi plums. The Japanese are fond of these, or so I've read. Ever heard of umeboshies? I hadn't, not until I happened across them at the health-food store.

Long story short: I saw this curious concoction, and was instantly seized by another Compelling: buy this stuff, and eat it. I read over the plums' Asian-character-marked packaging, looking for some possible reason why I should be interested in an odd ethnic food from an ethnicity that I cannot claim. And then, after I saw the plums' outlandishly high price ($35 and some change for a teeny little bottle), I reread the box, thinking I'd missed where the umeboshi will clean my house or cure cancer or do something to justify their cost. But, nothing other than nutrition facts and some optimistic marketing jargon.

My Compelling, however, remained unfazed: get the plums, ridiculous price or not.

I bought the plums.

Once again, I'll summarize: within a day after eating one of these zesty, salty little plums, I felt different. Better. My health is not what it could be; specifically, my digestion. And that's just what the plums seemed to address: my digestive issues, and the many systemic symptoms that result therefrom. I let myself get excited, but only a little; after all, my improvement could've been coincidence, if not outright placebo (despite my having no notion that the plums would improve my digestion, conscious or otherwise). So I experimented, noting the specific improvements that seemed to implicate the plums, and when/if they corresponded with my eating the stuff.

The improvements did correspond, without question. And the benefits continue to this day.

One thing bears mention here: my digestive woes were not a recent thing, nor something that I hadn't tried to address in the past. As it were, I've tried many, many, many remedies, from supplements to radical diets to yoga and special exercises to herbs and unguents and foul-tasting spices, all the way to fringe experimentation either too obscure or personal to expand upon -- without noticeable improvement. But then, from out of nowhere, I'd blindly bought this unfamiliar, expensive imported food, going on nothing but a classic "gut feeling" -- and it worked. (Though, as some after-the-fact research has pointed out, my results are not surprising, for umeboshi plums are traditionally known as a highly effective digestive remedy (known to the Japanese, at least -- and, it would seem, to whatever hidden force lay behind my intuitions).)

And, for what it's worth: umeboshi tastes damn good. I like to mix it with something sweet and savory, myself. Bonus.

Ask and Ye Shall Receive (Yes ... Again ... Really ...)

First, there's some required reading. Not that this incident doesn't speak for itself; it's just more fully appreciated in the context of its predecessors.

Now, as for this latest reprise of the classical "ask and ye shall receive"-type synchronicity, it begins two months ago, in December of '15.

I was in North Carolina at the time, visiting family for Christmas. While there, I encountered my father's grey pickup truck, and had the random thought that I wouldn't mind driving a truck for a while -- not own a truck, necessarily, just toy around in one for a little bit. This wasn't a distinct "asking," really, but it was no less of a desire, however faint. Well, long story short, I had car troubles while up in NC, which necessitated a rental car after the holidays. However, when I went to pick it up, I received some news: they were out of the economy car I'd reserved (cue Seinfeld sketch), but would I take a free upgrade? Of course I would; I wasn't picky, so long as I paid the same.

My upgraded vehicle? A big slate-grey pickup truck. Just days after my random-but-distinct desire to drive just such a truck (a grey one, as it were).

* * *

For the next part of this meta-incident (and yes, there's a next part, plus a third), we skip forward to January of '16, a month later.

Again, I'll summarize: more car trouble, and I needed to travel, hence another rental car. Likewise, just before this situation arose, I'd been struck with another fanciful notion to drive a certain type of car -- an SUV this time. In fact, for the whole week prior to my new car woes, I'd had these thoughts on several occasions, usually coinciding with my encountering one of the many big, beastly SUVs out and about.

You can probably guess what happened next.

On the morning I was to pick up my next rental car (another cheapie sedan, because I still wasn't picky about what I drive, despite my sudden car-lust), I received a call: "We couldn't get ahold of the car you rented, so you're getting a free upgrade."

This upgrade: a ginormous Chevy Tahoe, an SUV if there ever was one.

* * *

Yep, lightning struck a third time.

Today, in February of '16, the situation was almost exactly the same: yet more car troubles (my "luck" with the rentals was met with an equal amount of problems with my owned vehicle, it seems), and I had a doctor's appointment I didn't dare cancel, so it was back to my friendly neighborhood car-rental folks. And, surprise surprise: they were once more out of cheap cars, and I was receiving a free upgrade, and the car was (drum roll) just the kind I'd mysteriously and suddenly gotten the hots for.

Really, it's pretty profound in itself that this situation should recur three times in as many months. But, that each time I should be struck with vague-but-distinct desires to drive just the type of car I was upgraded to, just before receiving the upgrade ... However, I'm getting ahead of myself somewhat, for this latest incident was a little different, as to be a bit more notable.

See, this time, my "I want to drive this sort of car" thought was, unlike the last two, neither vague nor broad. This time, my desired car was very specific: a Nissan 350z. And, similarly, I can tell you exactly from whence this thought emerged: I had to walk a few minutes to meet the rental driver who was to pick me up (Enterprise really does pick you up, you know), and this short walk required me to pass a property on which I've seen parked, many times, a particular Nissan 350z, which I've several times thought that I would like to drive. Thus, it was by passing this property that my old longings for a 350z were stirred.

Note that this desire surfaced 1) only before being picked up and taken to the rental agency, and 2) just before I was picked up. That is, mere minutes before I would get to the agency and learn, entirely unbeknownst to me until then, that I'd once again received a free upgrade, now to a Nissan 370z (a luxury sports car that would've cost approximately four times as much as the economy-class I'd reserved, it bears mentioning).

(Ah, the more perceptive of you are probably saying, "But it was a 370z, not a 350." That was my initial thought, too (or, at least, it was after my head stopped spinning from witnessing this trifecta of sorts). But then, tonight, I got curious and Wikipedia'd the 370z, only to find that it is the 350's successor -- that is, not a separate model, par-se, but the 350's replacement. So, practically speaking, the 370 is in essence a 350z, just of a later year.)

* * *

So, just to recap: I not only got the exact type of car I'd "wished" for, and in the most random of ways, due to circumstances entirely unknown to me and outside my control -- but it happened three times in a row, each less than a month apart.

But I'm just "lucky," right? Just a "funny coincidence," right? Right ...

An Echo's Echo

I was writing a tweet while eating dinner, multitasking. As it were, the tweet in question was a synchronicity "report":

"1/26/16 synchronicity: randomly reading 'rumbling' in a book, precisely as a rumbling sounded from the neighbor's RV next door (as randomly)"

Then, mid-tweet, a new synchronicity unfolded: precisely as I typed "rumbling," my guts rumbled audibly, in digestion. The noise and the typing's completion coincided with the same perfectly synchronistic, "impossible to replicate even if I'd practiced it" timing -- the very same unmistakable timing with which the original "rumbling" had occurred.

I laughed. Then finished the tweet, and expanded the original incident's log entry. Then made this blog post. Then laughed some more.

This Is What A Living Dream Looks Like

A few days ago, I started reading a book, The Ashes of Waco, by Dick J. Reavis. A recounting of the 1993 Waco incident, in which "David Koresh" and a group of associates burned to death in their compound, the book describes Mr. Koresh as a gun-toting, beer-drinking Messiah, who smokes cigarettes and "plays a mean guitar," and possesses an encyclopedic knowledge of the Bible and like books (and, by his own description, was the Lamb of Revelation, capable of reading God's book of the seven seals).

I read that colorful description on January 8th specifically. As it were, it was the first time in a while that I'd encountered anything involving such a worldly Messiah -- if not the first time ever. Not the most common breed of Christ, that.

The next day, the 9th, I received an email: I had a new Twitter follower, a "Bodie Myers." Upon opening the email, I was met with the avatar and mini-bio screenshotted above.

Guns. Beer. Guitar. Books. All elements of that unlikely, Koreshian Messiah were present, recurring in less than 24 hours.

I don't know Mr. Bodie Myers (assuming this individual is male). But I'll send him/her my thanks, all the same. Besides synchroshocking me, your Twitter follower-ship gave me one hell of a laugh.

The Book Synchro, Re-revisited

Once again, I must share a reading synchronicity, thus revisiting a thoroughly visited phenomenon.

Actually, "revisit" isn't quite right, because I've already touched upon this particular flavor of synchronicity several times. In fact, I've devoted so many posts to it, even inventing a word like "re-revisit" isn't right, either. No. Poke through this blog, and you'll find it riddled with book- and reading-synchro posts, with a new one coming each time the phenomenon evolved or shifted or complicated -- so many I can't even insert a clever little link to point you to them.

Well, it's happened again: I've experienced the newest iteration of the book synchro. And though I'm hesitant to add another book-synchro post to the stack, I must, for this last one was a whopper.

* * *

Picture this, if you will: you sit down to read a book, and things in it start to happen. The book describes your surroundings. Echoes your thoughts. Corresponds with stuff happening to other people, even. Surreal, right? Right. It would, really, leave you quite unhinged, were you not ready for it (or even if you were).

But it's also impossible, too. Right ...?

Wrong.

Yes, that scenario is exactly what I've experienced -- or, at least, in the book synchro's latter incarnations. The phenomenon started out quietly enough, albeit not unnotably so (nor much less surreal): I would, say, read of the exact same, unlikely things in two random books, back to back, when the chances of such a recurrence were incredibly low (and there were no outward indicators of the books' contents, or any parallels of subject matter, or anything else that might have resulted in such a coincidence). Or, later on in the timeline, the phenomenon might've become a little more active and dynamic, such as reading exactly what I'd just then been thinking, in the back of my head (in a separate, independent chain of thought that was in no way related to the text). Or, later still, to send me deeper into this particular rabbit hole, the book might echo the speech and actions of those around me, visible and nearby but in no way connected to my book (or connected to me at all, beyond being in my proximity).

But these were all just coincidences, right? Even though they were hugely unlikely, and even though they happened again and again and again (and again), dozens of times and in the same basic, coherent pattern -- all just coincidence. Because, Mr. Garrison, that sort of thing is, simply, impossible.

But, I repeat: wrong. It is possible, and it has happened to me, a great many times. And, likewise, the book synchros (and all kinds of other, similar incidents) continue to happen for me, daily.

But, enough of the old "is it or isn't it real?" debate. Nothing I can say will convince the unconvinced (which, to be fair, is how it should be, considering that I am without objective evidence and can only give my word as to these events' reality -- got to show discernment, and be healthily skeptical, after all). So, let's just move on to the latest string of incidents, those which have demanded this post.

Shall we?

* * *

It started routinely enough, if mind-bending synchronicities can be at all routine.

A few days ago, I sat down to read, and almost immediately, as if on a switch, I started getting the hits: one sentence after another, echoing my reality in some respect, be it random thoughts or something I'd recently been thinking, or unlikely topics of inquiry I'd been exploring just hours or minutes earlier, or something going on across the street just right there-that-wow! Etcetera. But, at this point, not too big a deal (can you believe that I've really gotten used to this sort of thing ...?).

Soon, however, things got interesting.

First, there was just more: more echoes, more frequency, more parallels. But then it all graduated in intensity, as well as in timing, with things coinciding in a "perfectly synchronistic" fashion that is as impossible to describe as it is to consciously orchestrate. Next, as I read on, experiencing this rheostat-esque intensification like a passenger on a shuddering aircraft, I noticed a qualitive difference in the incidents, with the echoes and such beginning to overlap and intertwine, as to gain a multidimensional character that, also, I haven't the words to convey.

And that was just in the morning.

Fast forward to that afternoon, at lunchtime, when I sat down to read again, and had the "storm" repeat itself. By the time I'd finished eating and closed my book, the text had been spitting out a running commentary of what was, more of less, happening in my head and immediate environment. Right as I thought of getting some extra coffee, then decided against it because Starbucks double-brews their drip coffee and, thus, would be too much caffeine -- "too much coffee," reads the book. A long, random chain of thought that ended in my thinking of "1999" by Prince, and its lyric "the sky was all purple" -- "beginning to purple the sky," reads the book. Etcetera, etcetera, again and again, until even my sky-high tolerance for wow was in danger of being reached.

At the storm's tail end, the phenomenon even gained some irony, when the book's narrator began questioning his sanity and whether his experiences were objectively real (because the guy in the book had been presented with irrefutable proof of psychic experiences) -- when I'd been thinking that exact same thing (down to the same terminology, "objectively real"), in regards to this very phenomenon. More echoes, sort of. (Irony, or mockery?)

Oh, and the name of this particular book? Stir of Echoes. And what was it about? A man who experiences all kinds of weird, "impossible" stuff and has to reconcile with it. (And did I know this the day before, when I'd felt so strongly Compelled to buy it at a thrift store, totally randomly, like all the other book-synchro books ...?)

Yes, surreal. Surreal indeed.

* * *

"But surely it stopped there?" you say. I mean, after all, even the guys in books like Stir of Echoes get a break after such a crescendo of their impossi-weirdness. Right? Right ...?

No, didn't stop there.

The next day, the same thing happened, for the most part. If anything, the phenomenon just kept intensifying, for it not only continued through the rest of Stir of Echoes, but right on into the next sequential book I started on (plus a random magazine I read in between the two). And, throughout, it was the same deal: stark, explicit reflections of my inner and outer reality, coming in big, minutes-long bursts that left my head spinning. Dozens of individual "echoes," each wow-worthy enough to merit its own blog post.

"Living dream" says nothing, friends. Nothing at all.

 

All in all, these reading-synchro whirlwinds happened for three sequential days, spanning several books and other assorted reading material, and all following nearly the same pattern. On the fourth day, when this long-winded meta-incident finally ceased, it wasn't without another note of irony: it stopped only when I began expecting the phenomenon, anticipating a repeat when I sat down to read that day.

Oddly, a part of me knew that would happen -- and was expecting that, too, as to add yet more irony to the stew (along with some humor).

* * *

Good thing I'm just a guy on the internet, though. Just another faceless voice making fantastic claims without a shred of proof.

Yes, good thing. Because books just don't behave that way, thank God.

The Radio Reads My Mind

When it comes to radio synchronicity, I'm pretty bold. Most folks wouldn't admit that their precise thoughts and feelings are repeatedly and frequently echoed by the various radios and other vocal devices encountered in daily life. Even fewer would confess this publicly, online.

Then again, when something happens enough, and with enough consistency and reality, one is prone to boldness.

So, why not a little recounting of some of my funner radio-type incidents as of late?

Copied verbatim from my personal log:

12/7: "A whole bunch of radio/thought/reading synchros this afternoon, such as lot' coming over the radio perfectly synchronous with my thinking "which lot is that guy on?" at the end of a long and random chain of thought, and then 'sentimental feeling' on the radio coming perfectly synchronous with my thinking, at the end of yet another objectively begun chain of thought (spurred by seeing a nearby woman), of how I was feeling mawkish and "sentimental," that word exactly."

12/7 (continued): "Also, a cool radio synchro, much like that one from a few years ago with the in-house pharmacy radios. I heard a 'Feed the World' song randomly on the radio after leaving the gym, and it stood out to me, in that Noticing fashion. It played over the mile from the gym to the market, then finished right before I went inside. Then, as I entered the market, the exact same song was playing. Granted that it was a Christmas song and it's Christmastime, but still pretty unlikely. And now that I think of it, didn't I have some other radio synchro involving this song last year at this time?"

12/10: "While I was getting a massage from Val, she had random music playing in the background, and just when she randomly said, totally offhand and tangentially, 'there were birds chirping,' a bird chirped in the background music. It was notable enough in itself, but doubly so considering that there'd been no chirping before she said that. Damn surreal (and she thought so too, once I'd pointed it out)."

12/10 (continued): "The coolest of the day, however, was on the way home, when a star came into view through my windshield at the precise moment 'a star, a star' came over the radio -- again. It was not only a highly precise, perfectly synchronistic, and hugely unlikely due to the logistics involved (once again, it was the one point on the road where this star, again the only in the sky, was visible, both due to the height of the road and its effect on my windshield/field of view, and also due to there being a "valley" of trees lining the road and obscuring the sky, such that that precise point at which the road both curved and raised and the trees parted at just the right way was that (single) star visible). Utterly surreal and notable in itself, but then, *it was exactly what had happened just Monday, on the way home from myofascial release.* Damn cool in so many ways."

12/13: "A really cool standout, three-way thought/radio/event synchro. I passed the Living Waters church on the way out of SC, and I took notice because, just yesterday morning, I'd found a card for this church randomly in the trash bin at the gas station, and it had Lept Out at me/Nagged me in Compelling/Noticing fashion until I'd taken it out and read 'Living Waters' church. Then, precisely as I passed the church and read its sign and had the thought 'That's the church I'd just picked up the card for yesterday,' when the radio sang out 'water' on some random song."

12/13 (continued): "Standout, classical radio synchro: right as I'd passed a sign reading 'young world,' the radio sang out 'young,' so perfectly synchronous I had to take note, despite the one-word shallowness of it. Also, similarly: 'lift you up,' precisely as the gate lifted for the drawbridge, right in front of me. Damn surreal, that one."

12/14: "Another classical radio/thought standout: after I'd taken a deep breath and felt it hit my chest in that good, rare way, the radio sang out 'feel it in my chest,' perfectly synchronistic. And, again, gains notability given that 1) nothing in the song had said that beforehand (it wasn't a refraining chorus or something, that is), and 2) I'd had that thought for a 100% objective reason, because I'd taken a good, proper deep breath and had it enter my chest as it's supposed to (and for the first time today, as it were, coinciding perfectly with that random lyric on a song I'd never heard before ...)."

12/15: "One cool one this morning, a radio-type incident with a twist: when I'd come out of the tag office and started backing out, a passing woman started directing me out, and I'd lowered my window and we'd talked briefly, and I'd told her (illogically and because of confusion, it bears mentioning) that the enormous, full-size truck I was driving was a rental that they'd given me in place of the small car I'd reserved. Simultaneously, the song 'Mother Trucker' by James Taylor came on the CD player, with the lyrics "I'm a truck-driving man" or something to that effect coming on almost perfectly synchronistically with my telling the woman, objectively in regards to our conversation, about how I was, as it were, a 'truck-driving man.' Really notable, and cool, especially with its illogical/confused context."

12/16: "A highly notable and precise thought/radio/sign standout: hearing 'risk your health for me' on the radio, perfectly synchronous with my thinking almost exactly that, in regards to the lover/merkaba theme. Also, a two-part one on the way home tonight from Charleston, even more notable: right as I came upon a freshly crashed car/accident and almost ran into a spray of broken glass/car debris and had to slam on my brakes and stop short, thereby stopping several cars behind me, 'can't stop the traffic' sounded on the radio (though, oddly, I *did* stop the traffic; perhaps only the "stop the traffic" was the relevent reflection/synchronous manifest?). And then, minutes afterward right down the road was a second crash, and precisely as I came upon it and saw that it was indeed a second crash (and had time to think 'crash,' as it were), 'crash and burn' sounded on the radio. Surreal."

12/17: "Right as I stopped at the road at the park's driveway, I thought, first, of how I was now in a twenty-year-old used van after just driving the brand new rental truck, and how I was now back to being a 'commoner'/everyday Joe Schmoe-type. Immediately as I thought that, an oncoming car appeared, this too a "commoner" vehicle, probably as old and with some paint imperfections, etc, and so I felt I felt a sort of camaraderie with the driver and their car -- and then, a split second after these two things happened, the song 'Working Man' started on the radio. Note that, though not quite perfectly synchronistic (maybe a half-second gap in there), the timing actually added notability, since the song starting only after the thought/car ruled out any sort of suggestion/trigger, etc."

12/18: "Another classical thought/radio synchro, where 'problems you don't want to talk about' sang on the radio precisely as I was thinking of problems I didn't want to talk about. Very precise and notable."

12/18 (continued): "While paying in Starbucks, a classic radio/thought synchro: 'five-and-ten' coming over the radio precisely as I decided upon a ten-dollar bill and pulled it out of my wallet, my thought of 'I'll use the ten' and the radio's 'ten' coinciding perfectly synchronistically, etc."

Etc, etc, etc. Yadda, yadda, yadda. You get the point: the radio echoes my reality in amusing and intelligent ways.

Or so it seems, at least. No shortage of people would easily write off each and every one of those examples, citing chance or psychology or the influence of certain spiritual entities. To them I say, "Perhaps." However, I should mention that that list of incidents is just from the last week or so (and only partial at that, quoting only the more-coherent or less-complicated of incidents, as well as the great many incidents too subtle or subjective to be logged ...). There's plenty more where that came from (like, hundreds).

But really, guys, do call off the butterfly-net men, eh? After all, could someone truly delusional maintain such an elaborate and wonderful blog?

Synchroshock -- the book!

So, here's something of a trip: a book that contains this blog ... posted on this blog.

Blurb:

We've all experienced coincidences.

Yes, some have explanations. Buy a certain car and suddenly you're seeing them everywhere -- selective perception. Get hungry for a certain food soon after seeing its advertisement -- subconscious suggestion. However, then there are those other kind of coincidences, the ones that are just a tad too ... coincidental. When it comes to these, one can't help but wonder: Is there something more than meets the eye, something going on behind the scenes of reality? There, we enter the realm of the "synchronicity."

I, Aaron Garrison, have experienced many such suspiciously coincidental coincidences. So many, in fact, that I began logging them -- and, eventually, blogging them. This book is, simply, a compilation of that data, reading as a personal diary of dozens upon dozens of incidents that all beg the question, "What are the odds?!"

In ‘Synchroshock,’ discover where coincidence ends and synchronicity begins.

Essentially, it's a free eBook version of this blog, offered as a convenience, for free (at vendors which don't require a .99 cent minimum price, at least).

Grab the eBook here:

Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo (free) | Lulu (free) | Smashwords (free)

Get the Print-on-Demand version here (book is big, and thus costly to print):

Lulu | Createspace