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Apr. 25th, 2003 01:52 amAnd the highway spirals out, a black and slick ribbon, once again. I drove so far by myself this evening, even in the wee hours.
I can't believe that I waited so long to be licensed. There is nothing in the world quite like doing 90 mph down the asphalt, singing at the top of my lungs with all the windows down.
I should have done this when I turned seventeen, I'd probably have turned out a hell of a lot more stable then I am now.
Mexican /and/ Cajun, you ask? Is that possible?
Fuck yeah, it is. How many places do you know where you can get enchiladas and jambalaya on the same plate? Hopped up Allah on a pogo stick. I was in a food coma. That's more then I've eaten in one sitting, in one DAY, in a long time. And Wemble drank a margarita the size of her head, which I stealthily stole sips from.
The jambalaya reminded me of New Orleans and the visit of that city a few years back. Thee Pumpkin Girl, Cheshire Cat, Heb, The Zombie King, and I took a ten day vacation there. Fucking incredible. And though there was drama, as there always are on long trips, I still had the time of my life. I need to go back.
Especially drunkenly staggering back to the hotel room, discovering the pillowcase massacre by TPG. Teaching Cheshire how to tell people to fuck off. And the feel of the chipped stone under my fingertips and face, cool despite the August heat, as I leaned against the supposed tomb of Marie Laveau and asked my question.
No, I won't tell you what I asked.
However, I will tell you that I was indeed answered.
I can't believe that I waited so long to be licensed. There is nothing in the world quite like doing 90 mph down the asphalt, singing at the top of my lungs with all the windows down.
I should have done this when I turned seventeen, I'd probably have turned out a hell of a lot more stable then I am now.
Mexican /and/ Cajun, you ask? Is that possible?
Fuck yeah, it is. How many places do you know where you can get enchiladas and jambalaya on the same plate? Hopped up Allah on a pogo stick. I was in a food coma. That's more then I've eaten in one sitting, in one DAY, in a long time. And Wemble drank a margarita the size of her head, which I stealthily stole sips from.
The jambalaya reminded me of New Orleans and the visit of that city a few years back. Thee Pumpkin Girl, Cheshire Cat, Heb, The Zombie King, and I took a ten day vacation there. Fucking incredible. And though there was drama, as there always are on long trips, I still had the time of my life. I need to go back.
Especially drunkenly staggering back to the hotel room, discovering the pillowcase massacre by TPG. Teaching Cheshire how to tell people to fuck off. And the feel of the chipped stone under my fingertips and face, cool despite the August heat, as I leaned against the supposed tomb of Marie Laveau and asked my question.
No, I won't tell you what I asked.
However, I will tell you that I was indeed answered.