going to california with an aching in my heart.


didn't led zeppelin wail that at some point? it seems to recall faint aromas of patchouli and high school angst.

i think the aching is really more in my brain, which is reeling (positively reeling) from all the events and projects and thoughts and issues that have been crashing on its hard floors, leaning heavily against its rickety walls, overstaying their welcome like relatives in a national lampoon christmas movie.


so i am trying to vacate the place. air out the rooms, turn off the lights - and get totally empty-headed.

i am sitting here on a wednesday night waiting for my parents, rather than Godot. they will pick me up and start our californian adventure. we will fly out at an odd hour on an odd, slightly ramshackle airline to a place where the stuff that dreams are made of is made. i think it's called silicone. and i know we're going to LA.

isn't it funny to think about where you'll be this time tomorrow on the eve of a trip?

i'll be looking at palm trees soon. and hopefully a big plate of mexican food.

california screaming for more.