stella, per dawns request

I just need enough to tide me over until I need more.
- Bill Hoest

This weekend was blessed, but not in the way Clive Staples uses the word.

THURSDAY headed straight to the airport after giving a presentation on LGBTs. I'm assuming people in the Tucson terminal called me 'sir' on account of the neck to toe business-casual attire. In Phoenix I waited at the gate, fainting from hunger every now and then. Met up with T Alans family, Dawn was more than ready to celebrate our shared birthdays and Alexis was massive. Maybe a prospective right end? I can see her blindsiding dukes like Michael Oher in the near future.

FRIDAY morning was Bolsa Chica station 23, by the corner of Warner and PCH. Met up with mikeynjade and tried his fixie, that no-coasting thing is pretty wild. Definitely sat in the sand, overwhelmed by the oncoming storm that is the coastline. Out there the earth is humming; the ocean roared like an organic, immeasurable expanse of highway. Tiptoeing and baby steps don't work; the best way to deal with frigid water is still to meet waves head-on. That nervous system jolt dulled my outer layer; I ran back to the lot to grab the bodyboard and wasn't too disappointed I didn't catch a single wave - simply being out there was more than enough. We basked in the sun for a few hours and afterwards drove crosstown to grab kid sister from the Ontario airport - jerkoffs circled the terminals 3x before we noticed the cell phone waiting lot. Our Chili's waitress at Eastland was super frazzled and dropped chairs, drinks, and food. More treats awaited us at the house (sinigang, adobo, carre carre), absolutely no idea how T Alan put another couple plates back. They went to Guppy's for dessert - I don’t have the adbomial fortitude it takes to eat for six hours straight. Pops let me use his 535 and made a crack about taking it easy on the clutch, he had some jokes. Met up with EK and Scoozy @ Sallad's, they were BBQing out back. EK still runs his mouth about being in love with kid sister, still runs away when I call her up and hand him the phone. They fed me whiskys and this made for another bird day ushered in with great company and way too many cigarettes. BD Avatar > DVDRIP, it was Blue Moons and peoples ‘til sunrise. Back at the house I passed out in the driveway - which was great, cause I'd missed sleeping in a driver's seat - but this time it was because kid sister locked me out and didn't pick up her cell. A pixie-cut Judas she was at that moment.

We were the first party to show @ the Rowland Heights Boiling Crab SATURDAY afternoon and laid that booth to waste, sir. We left it littered with bibs and empty beer bottles, an Old Bay-seasoned graveyard for oyster shells, shrimp heads, and crab skeletons. Totally just drooled on myself a little. After an open-mouthed nap we hit Aristotle's in Whittier whilst the girls went shopping downtown. There was altogether too much vodka there, seeing as to how the gathering was for his 12 year old's bird day party. He rented out one of those inflatable bouncy rings and oversized boxing gloves for the boys, they used ‘em for a half hour before dropping the leathers and trying heartily to choke each other out. Totally watched and took phone pictures in between laughing bouts and drink sips. After that it was back to the house for - you guessed it - more feasting. Pops lit a fire in the pit out back and we sang songs and shot the shit as a family; barbecue sticks, beers and birthday cake meant stupor for everone by midnight. For a second I thought it too late to have kid sister dye my hair (bright black this time) but didn't want to pass up on that bonding opportunity; I'm sure females dish and connect in the same way over manis and pedis. I vaguely remember not rising from bed to give her a hug and kiss before she took off.

That girl contacted me around 3am on SUNDAY morning, a little after the hydrating conditioner thing; we talked with our fingers until sunrise. We danced around what we'd learned and brought up the little things, the memories that hadn't yet lost their afterglow: high school me and that acoustic woo-set (Mayer's Comfortable at Suzanne Park, I’m mostly sure), ralphing on her walls/ceiling and retching in that new year. This non-accusatory ambivalence is a newfound sentiment.

Arose in the late afternoon and enjoyed pistachios and bud light while watching the Suns' sweep. That evening I hit Jollibee on the Filipino side of town with new-neighbor/old friend Genie after she got off work, we skeet-shot the shit over her Chicken Joy meal and leftover Stellas back at the house. Afterwards I visited Atok: we came to the conclusion he's decidedly better on the electric, me not so much so on the acoustic. Cannot wait to rock the g house in a few weeks. Indoors, we played through the first little bit of the third installment in the God of War series - my hat's off to Sony and Santa Monica studios for putting that game together. The opening section of the game is you riding the back of an elemental Titan that‘s simultaneously climbing Mount Olympus and being attacked by Poseidon’s heralds. Frenzied stick-wiggling and button mashing equaled drama via visual fireworks in 1080p.

MONDAY flew out of SNA/John Wayne (only airport terminal I’ve seen with curbside valet service) and on landing in Phoenix took the 13W city bus to the Greyhound station. Travel is layovers and security checks, here I wait, typing with my thumbs until the bus arrives from San Bernardino to shuttle me to finals' door.

At the depot's DSA I listened in as ratty haired career hitchhikers discussed Chuck Norriss' beachfront property on the surface of the sun, on how he owns the Bermuda Triangle and doesn’t tolerate trespassers.

I'll be back to hang out with portly Misty soon enough, will see if those quarter-life-crisis PLUR plans pan out.