(These posts will totally be stream of consciousness.)Let's see. How did it start? I got a letter from my high school telling me I wasn't going to graduate because of absences. Well, I was working close to thirty hours a week, hitting a bar that served me, and staying out until 3am pretty much every night. So, the day I received the letter I said "f**k it" and decided that since all of my friends and the guy I was more than friends with (but not his girlfriend) were out in Los Angeles and I was missing out, that I'd go out there. One of my friends was home from LA and we hopped on a Greyhound the next day...not after my grandmom told my friend she'd burn in hell. Nice. It was a cool trip. I got to see things like the St. Louis arch thingy and the outside of Indy. Arizona took the entire freakin' day to drive through, but it was beautiful. I learned that tumbleweed isn't only in cartoons and that Texas is freakin' humid. Don't get off the bus at night in Tulsa and I really liked the windmill "farms" as you get into Southern California (yes, as I typed it I said, "cal-eeee-fornia"). When I got there I realized it was NJ with palm tress, bigger mountains, and the possibility of earthquakes. But I was psyched! When I got to the apartment I was shown my part of the floor...no furniture...slept on the floor for six/seven months. Then I realized generic beer and the inexpensive nature of rolling cigarettes instead of buying by the pack or buying the cheapo brands that came in bundles of three would be my friend. Some days all I ate was a Snickers and beer. I usually had enough money to buy generic foods: ramen noodles, bread, peanut butter, and beer. My breakfast was usually a beer, especially if I didn't have work or beauty school that day. If I had a good paycheck I'd buy everyone pizza or we'd have a beer and wing night. That was the mundane stuff. I'll get to the rock and roll stuff next time.
It got weird at times. Nothing like having a prospective bass player for the band turn to you and say, "Show me your t**s!" within minutes of meeting the freak. I almost clocked the idiot.
Eh...beats the night I was driving home with some guy that kept biting me. Well, that was after my like-a-boyfriend, but not a boyfriend decided to get a girlfriend. Yes. I was still living with him. Good thing she didn't see the kiss good-bye he gave me when I left LA...she was waiting in the car. We had a 5.8 earthquake that morning, too. That was fun.
Well...I'll cover the rock and roll stuff and a journey back to LA when I went home to see my mom because she had lung cancer. Now you all know where the guilt comes from. I was not a good daughter.
2 comments:
Maybe you were supposed to experience those times for a reason. A beer and a snicker??? That's natural speed! You had to have been hyper.
It has got to be for something. :)
Well if you add the cigarettes to the mixture...really hyper!
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