I went drivin' and cryin' for a bit. It's great that I can at least temporarily solve difficult emotional problems in life with internal combustion. Drove out to I-15 and Foothill Blvd. (otherwise known as Route 66), gassed up, drove back.
In the process I realized that my problem is in fact not a teenaged sex drama problem, but an elementary school best friend problem. Damn. Now I wish I'd been able to drive in fourth grade.
Came back much later to a nice short convo with kennfusion.
I hate pictures of myself about 99.99% of the time. They always remind me that I somehow turned from the skinny kid with promise into the large lumpy mess with issues. I am aware that this is a knee-jerk dumb reaction and yet it still happens.
Ferdinand is playing Oct. 30 at the Scene in Glendale. Who wants ta go? They're gooooooood.