made it to twin peaks w/stewart tonight after an hour of ill-guided volkswagen madness. yeah yeah, i've been in the city for a year and i lived in sight of the bloody hill for two months and i've actually been there several times, but it was hard. i might have shaved off twenty minutes of travel time if i'd bought a map from the confused guys at walgreens, but by then i'd reached a triumph-of-the-human-spirit mindset. 's what i get for watching lost while stewart made spaghetti. me, i'd have known they were in mongolia in no time. i can say like three things in russian, and only two of them are about food preparation.
he's a good one for appreciating hills, that stewart. a good one for appreciating getting lost approaching hills, even; unfortunate, as i've been trying to get sick of him before he goes back to boston on sunday. he tried to oblige by pouring beer on me at zeitgeist on saturday, but i asked him to do it. these nice people, they should sod off and be nice somewhere else. no, they should stay here with me.
the consensus at work: ride your twenties out, bite your lip, give 'em hell. wait for your saturn return, honey. conversely, my dad had no issues with turning fifty last year, nor with turning forty way back when; the shock for him was in turning thirty. don't trust anyone over the age of thirty. i can't find fault with that, really. i'm from orange county: the return of saturn is a no doubt album, alright?
call me at four in the morning, for christ's sake. if i'm not up, i'll get up. i'll sell some plasma and have a duffel bag together in half an hour. this is what i want to be when i grow up, and i want all of you there with me. half an hour.
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