It's midnight. I have my iTunes on shuffle. "Return to Innocence" by Enigma is on and I feel like I'm in Man of the House Part Deuce; me & J.T.T. are about to begin our raindance shortly. Weird. My mom loves this song. Maybe it reminds her of the %.05 Indian we do have in us. Throwin' up a peace pipe for you mom.
On that awkward note: My mom had her teeth pulled this week. She's in a lot of pain. She hasn't eaten, and says she can only taste blood. She is alone. I'm going home tomorrow to take care of her (groceries, food, yell at the animals, the usual.) I'm going fishing Saturday, that should be fun. Inverness, what a blast.
Canceled my netflix subscription. I live in a Bright House (ignoring all illegal connotations.) Finished Bright Shiny Morning (Amazing, Sad, Angry, Depressing, all in 500 pages). Life is Bright.
Sidenote: Sold my iPhone. I don't know what people do without one. Seriously. Waiting for the new one is like being in Purgatory. ACCESS HOLLYWOOD is the only thing on this late. Why is America obsessed with Celebrities and their lives? (Read: Why am I obsessed with Celebrities and their lives?) Why is Janet Jackson's nose so small? Britney's sister had her baby. David Beckham is in an obnoxiously large poster, in his underwear. That's weird. I couldn't do that, I'm not shy but I'd just be too embarrassed. I made the switch to Euro Briefs about three months ago, and I'm living a ride-free, snug life. Posterize that. Put that in your Smike and Pope it.
The road trip to California is so close I can taste it. I can taste the dry air, taste the salt from the Pacific (I hate taffy's), see the VW vans parked on the side of the road filled with people and memories of times long gone, see the city, the intermingling and hatred between people and their cultures, feel the sand between my toes. I can see it, feel it, taste, hear, smell, touch, imagine and dream.