So I Went To Cali, And All I Got Was This Lousy Redeye.

And for you pervs, no, I'm actually talking about my flight back to NYC.

What can I say? Leaving California gets harder and harder each time. So much so, that during lunch today, I booked my next trip out in November. Yeah, that's how much I miss Cali... I'm not even back five hours to NYC, and I'm making sure I'm returning to NoCal.

So... my trip. I know, you're all dying to hear about it...

But you're not going to like this next part: nothing happened. I had a great time. I chilled with some friends, I chilled with my moms and pops, I got some work ish done on Friday, and tried to get an in at Boalt Law School (didn't seem to work). I ate all kinds of food, I wasn't super cheap with my cash. I hung out a bit in Sac...

In short, nothing worthy of this blog happened. Nothing on me broke - neither the body, nor the heart. But now I'm back, and Chupecabra stares at me with evil intent... sure to exact vengeance, vengeance for my willingness to turn him aside for a measly trip to California.

And, in the spirit of things, I have turned myself over to Bacchus. Also known as Dionysus. Eris: eat shit and die, you've been a bitch to me, and I resent the shit out of it. Get yer head on straight, and we'll talk. Recently, she's been playing with the stock market, and I can honestly say that I feel their pain, I know what it is to have a life in complete turmoil because the goddess has decided that you need change to understand that you're still fundamentally fucked up.

No, I don't retract my statement. Just because I'm fundamentally fucked up, doesn't mean that I need an ancient goddess to point that shit out to me. I do fine enough on my own.

Except for pool. I got my ass kicked at pool yesterday. It would have been embarrassing, but I can always counter that I lost on purpose, because my opponent was attractive. It would be a lie. The losing on purpose part. She whooped me something silly. I could blame the beer, but it actually improved my game.

I mean, who would ever think that a clutz could type, let alone play pool? Well, the former I got covered. The latter? I'm just glad I wasn't betting money with her, she'd clean me out in under an hour (yeah, I'm still broke like that, don't hate! There's nothing beautiful about hate!).

Now, to sleep. Tomorrow brings more work, and maybe one day I'll actually make a funny blog again.

Or I'm just stringing all four of you along (yeah, I got it on good authority that there's four of you curmudgeons now).

Time will be the judge of that.