Listening to Cake's "Frank Sinatra" on the car ride home from Tahoe, the
gals are asleep in the back seat, so I'm in a trancelike state of thought.
A line from the song,

 . . . beyond your latest ad campaign . . . 

gets me thinking a bit about what I want out of liffe.  More precisely, it
strikes a chord in me, one of those sudden, inexplicably powerful
emotions, which flashes on strong then quickly fades, like a panic
attack.

Very difficult to write in here with the car's bouncing and moreso the
lack of light.
[as I remember, what I was going to write next but didn't was something
like: it seems that whenever I pen something in my paper journal instead
of typing it out, it ends up a lot less interesting and a lot shorter than
I'd like.  I write a LOT slower than I type, and I guess typing gives me a
better chance to write at a pace where I can record my thoughts before
they escape.  Thinking this brought me into a musing on the loss of my
laptop in exchange for my trip to Ireland, but I tried to put it down to
water under the bridge and let it go.  seems to be my M.O. these days;
ignoring my problmes in hopes that their existance hinges soley on my
validation thereof.  it works about as well as it should, considering that
I've not yet had much luck with my thoughts directly altering my reality.
OK, so I'm writing this on the 24th, and writing things I meant to write
in today's journal, but I'm at a good pace here and don't want to stop.
anyuhow, this is reminding me of what transpired tonigth:  on the way home
from work, I got in an accident.  great.  I'm fucking trying to pull my
life together, and fate has to give a good hard YANK at the seams.
digress to my theory of money, how people in power stay in power because
off low class people having issues with financial inertia: it tkaes money
to make money, and when all your money is going to your making it through
life day-to-day, something unexpected pops up and throws evertying to
shit.  anyhow, this is ffrightening the shit out of me, because even
though I'm dazed but unhurt as is Sam (was driving him home from work at
the time), and the lady in the car seems to be ok, and the only damage
that I can see (it's hard to tell with the front of my car, ha) is her
license plate is a bit bent, she hops out with "I just know this is going
to complicate my already existing whiplash from the last time this
hpapened to me when there was no visible damage but 2.5K of repairs to my
car" and I"m thinking, fucking great, I get miss professional fucking
victim herself out of everyone in the world.  So she says "the first
thing I'm going to do is call my chiropractor, then the insurance
agency, you should call yours right away" and I'm thinking "there's no
fucking damage, what is WRONG with you?" but I can't say it, because
she's a Very Sure Of Herself person.  all of this is nothing
compared to my worries because (add another great thing) I went to the DMV
today, just toget my fphoto re-taken, and was officially served notice
that my driver's license had been suspended.  well, it's not like I'm
going to abandon my car there, and god knows how long it will take to sort
out pending court cases(?).  Hell, I don't even know what the charges are,
something like sec. 24089243089 of the CA vehicle code.  and so I'm
totally a wreck and come home and decide to cancel a credit card I just
paid off, and that feels good, so then I have a beer just like Ms.
Professional Victim told me not to, because fuck her and everyone like
her when I'm in this mindframe, I just want to be happier.  and I decide
to ignore the problem and I really felt fine until I started delving back
into this.  

in fact, what I was thinking about was the girl I met . . . well, the week
before the trip, who was on the trip.  and she seemed neat, albeit what
some might call a bit young (19 in april).  of course, the last time this
happened, it ended up with me in Cancun with a girl I'd met like a month
before.  I suppose that could've gone well - it just didn't.  and the time
before that, well, it wasn't a ski trip, and at least I got my tongue
pierced out of it.  I've been debating coming up with some reason to email
herf to say "hi" - tried ICQ but she doesn't appear to be on it.  probably
the smartest thing to do is casually ask Benjie.  might be a bit weird
though since he said the other RA's told him she had the hots for him.
well, he's not interested sez him, so . . . fair game?  like hour-distance
relationships have ever ended up well for me.  then again, where my ideal
relationship at?  silly to stop trying just because it hasn't happened
yet.  I find myself thinking to that ffirst kiss with someone new . . .
the way time seems to slow into nothingness, and all that exists are your
faces, traveling arround each other in a sort of cosmic ballet,
electricity building up on your lips until it can't stand it any longer,
then bursting outward in a blinding spark, traversing the distance from
mouth to mouth in a fraction of a second . . . and hoping that I'm not
addicted to the start of a relationship, the thrill of someone new.  I
know I'm far, far, from it at least on some level, because nothing makes
me happier than having someone to hold, someone who's always there and who
always cares and someone who loves you anyway.  so I don't know if this
will end up anywhere, but it can't hurt, right?  hey, "she talked to me,
she must love me!"  geek humour.  actually, she was sleeping / trying to
sleep in the car, and after a while asked if I minded if she put her head
on my shoulder.  maybe it meant nothing, and maybe this is sad, but it was
such a thrill to me.  

here's to all the thrills of the future, and leaving the spills of the
past behind.