Wednesday, May 25, 2005

There's something about driving where you're going. You can see the miles passing around you and feel the wheels spinning around but for some reason if I don't pass through a security metal detector and if I don't try to ignore the flight attendant in the aisle showing me how to buckle my fucking seatbelt then I don't feel like I've gone anywhere. Even if I drive for 16 hours straight through mountains and deserts and finally make it to the ocean.

People say road trips are a great time to reflect and put life in perspective. I just like to crank up the CD player and sing at the top of my lungs until I go hoarse. Having now taken my car to both coasts I can easily say that no amount of driving will ever reveal the true meaning of life. I thought I was having a religious experience somewhere in the midst of the Utah desert but then it turned out only to be a serious overdose of Cheetos and sugar.

Things you expect to be very big are always pretty small. Last roadtrip I saw Niagara Falls. Lots of water, sure, but it just wasn't that tall. Las Vegas? They couldn't even persuade me to stop. The rocky Mountains, on the other hand, are everything they're cracked up to be and more. Nothing can touch those beauties. Also, the Walmart Distribution Center somewhere in Utah was a sight to behold. (yes, each one of those tiny white things is a full semi truck parked near the loading dock).

The drive was nice and peaceful. That is until I crossed the border into CA. Suddenly all the same cars that were gliding slowly started to dodge and weave and cut and speed. There was no logic to the movement, only excessive speed and chaos and nice cars. I don't want to pass any judgments yet, I've only been here three days and I guess the Californians get a week before I start to tear them to shreds.

Job is good. Random chaos put my friend's apartment less than 3 blocks away. Somehow managed to convince someone to let me live in their 3 story Santa Monica Townhome all of July and August. Prolly because I don't have a bad bone in my body no matter how hard I try.

Some some celebrity in the pet store. Blonde and hot and all that. It's a weird town. I have a weird job here. I'll get to do a lot of weird stuff. Sure beats staying home and working for the catering company. One of these days I'm going to finally run out of good Karma. I'll have about 5 years of awfulness. That's cool. I'll take it.


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