mini road trip with the boys and Kat today to Concord.  indefinite amount of bowls packed during that short ride and parked in the lot of Starbucks and In ‘N out with those and our tallcans.  enjoyed a fair list of Mars Volta and ETID songs through the Bay Bridge while watching the sun clamber towards the ocean and the fog stride into the city.  haven’t enjoyed a day as much as this, but then again, tomorrow’s another day.  

Does it even make sense that I have a penchant for turbulent fluctuation? Does that make any sense? 

Because, since I was a wee lass, I think I may have promised myself never to fall into any sort of routine as long as I had oxygen cycling in and out of these nostrils.  I’ve been trying to dig out some particular memory regarding any sort of thing in that matter from my crates of dissipating memories—which, might I add, seems to be more from pure subconscious choice than from an early onset of Alzheimer’s like I’d hoped for it to be—and nothing’s to be found.  

I suppose it’s just how it’s got to go.  

50% of me wants to change that.  50% of me is always trying to change what I’ve already become—reverse the process of Me vs. Me.  And the other half is flailing desperately to embrace myself in all my aspects because…well, quite simply, I am what I am.  So 50% of me wants to stop picking sporadic nights to stay up and wander aimlessly through the tunnels of this Interweb, as entertaining as they may be.  The other 50% is telling me to correct myself horizontally, rather than vertically, and put up some fight against these wired-open eyes like a real man.  

Take into consideration that this scenario—me lying fully naked on my bed, dry-eyed and tingly-toed with these fingers dancing some sorrowful flamenco piece on this shit-storm of a Macbook—isn’t thaaat big of a deal in regards to my…inability (for the lack of a better word) to cope with a set routine, let alone any personal ritual.  

I guess that I just want what I want, even when I think I don’t want it.  So then, what I want is a flagrant disregard for any sort of pattern.  That’s what I want in myself.

….Now I’m just talking to myself.  Although, hopefully, that’s what I’ve been doing from the start.  You’re just here to read through, possibly agree/disagree/meh it off, and then realize that you’ve probably got about 6 more hours of sleep than I will have had by the sunrise.  

My 2 best friends did end up coming up to visit me for spring break.

I gotta say, despite the many mornings (that led to nights) that were spent not feeling too well and being lazy (which neither of all of us found ourselves complaining about), it was quite eventful.  

Oh, did I tell you guys I moved into a new house? Vincent helped me move in, it was pretty great until we had a huge problem with removing the…feet…from the couch.  

Anyway, yeah.  We did a lot of drinking, showed Kelley down the first few blocks of Marijuana Drive (proud to say, we birthed a stoner out of that little munchkin), a lot more drinking, a little bit of shrooms, a lot of ordering delivery food, a little odd flatulence here and there, a lot of cleaning….

It’s been nothing but amazing and I miss those buttholes already.

Yeah. That’s it.  I felt the need to write this after smoking a joint and ordering a pizza.