July 10, 2006

Visions of a Fiery Death

Today is kind of sucking. I haven’t slept the last couple of nights and it’s caught up with me today. I’m grumpy and sluggish and bleary-eyed. The coffee I stopped to get on the way to work is helping. (Yeah, yeah, yeah: Starbuck’s is the devil…etc etc.)

There is also something strange happening to one of my toenails that I’ve never seen in my life. How wretched. I find myself retracing my steps, literally. Is this the result of a recent pedicure? Of the public pool? Of the showers and locker room at my gym? Of my passion for wearing flip floppy shoes no matter what the weather on environmental circumstance? One can only guess. I did put a quick polish disguise on them under my desk at work so they can dry while I write and I don’t repulse too many people.

Things are looking up, though.

I am in charge of planning two events for a particular group of friends. One is a kayaking trip on the San Francisco bay and the other is our next camping trip. As far as the camping, I have two favorite options (that are a reasonable distance away) but am most excited about Russian Gulch—a churning sea cave, waterfall, and skin diving? Awesome. I feel sort of awkward making plans for us to drive more than a couple of hours since I’m not one of the car owners around here. My friend Long is working on getting his VW bus fixed so we can take that. All we need are some flowers painted on the outside, a bong, and a mattress in the back and we’ll fit right in around here. (We would substitute the flowers and mattress for some guns and Hawaiian shirts if we were in L.A....ala Hunter S. Thompson.)

I am also heading to the east coast for a rather whirlwind trip in just a couple of days. I’m feeling overwhelmed by the amount of stuff I’m trying to fit into a short period of time, but I plan to soak up every bit of fun possible. I think my west coast friends will be happy for me to shut up about my trip for awhile—at least for a couple of months until I buy my next plane ticket home. As per usual I’ll make sure at least two people are lined up to adopt my birds in case of a screaming, fiery airplane death on the way there. On that note, happy travels to me!

San Luis Reservoir

Russian Gulch State Park

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