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2002-05-29 || 4:04 p.m. || eighty-two degrees = 1995 || it feels like huntington beach outside. it feels like being eighteen and sweating in a polyester dress on main street, stopping at julie's ice cream shop to get a free chocolate and peanut butter single scoop with extra napkins for kelly and her drooling problem. jeff and his summer beanie. aline and the cadillac up and down pacific coast highway. the antique shop across from the fire station with all its old photographs of ranch houses and ladies in cotton white. hiding in corners at vinyl solution and stopping for a save captain eo meeting at the chuck e. cheese across from the tiki bowl. love letters written on lined paper to hand to straight edge boys before running away. buying coordinating outfits at savers. edwards hill and the songs we sung while coasting down into blue sky and oil derrick skeletons and sand and sunburn and itchy old lady slips. guestbook || notes || archives || profile || photos || d-land |