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2003-06-30 || 2:38 p.m. || i should have fixed my camera. || this weekend i spent 15 hours driving, 5 hours sleeping and 15.43 hours having the Best Time Ever. oh. party at sam's house for H's bon voyage: a sea of fancy lads and ladies compliments of paul mitchell academy who collectively made me drink two cups of sangria plus lots of pastis in rapid succession so as to calm the nerves. the world slowing down just a bit when i spied my sweetie through the slats of the patio door. reuniting with long lost fabulous orange county friends. finding out 'jenn' means 'sister of kelly' in most languages. wishing wishing kelly was there. trying to swallow music combo of snoop dogg + damaged goods. sneaking out with john and tucker and chris to taco loco, premiere straight edge hang-out circa 1996. having lovely talk with chris about ghosts and san francisco and long-lived rumor that i do it with the ladies. sitting down with john & co at sidewalk table to witness a gang of ladies clamoring down the street with a giant inflatable penis. john announcing he has a hole in his pants and standing up to reveal hole plus wiener hanging out. realizing it is impossible to hang out with john without seeing a whole lot of wieners. driving back to the party to receive frantic where are you phone call from my dreamboat. sam with a towel around his waist announcing he's walking to the beach to swim. losing party-goers like flies once 12-hour drunk fest wears off + it is confirmed there is no more alcohol. lying on the floor of sam's living room to watch documentary on john lennon, the drunkies sounding off on early beatles vs. late, paul vs. john, the illustrious yoko. singing along with the television. being incredibly endeared by sean lennon's boyhood jacket. my boy finding me on the floor once all the rowdy ones left the frontyard to collapse and put his head right there on my shoulder and oh i like him. he'll be in new york in eleven hours. guestbook || notes || archives || profile || photos || d-land |