Volcaniclastic

I did not have time to buy sneakers. I sat in an hour long meeting about a budget or a deadline or creativity or some combination of those three things. I did that and by the time I walked out of the office I had like 30 minutes to get ready for the show.

Luckily I had a semi-fresh pair that kinda matched my t-shirt and when I met up with Stef she was looking cute as ever and her little sneakers were inspired, too.

The rest is history, I guess. What a fucking show. I had a lot of fun, I realized that I need to go see live music more often. It takes me past the point where time spent standing in one place doesn't even matter, you know? I'd have stood for 3 hours if he would have just kept on with the classics and the new shit all mixed together. WC was there, and they did some westside Connection stuff and also some very corny song set-ups but I was really just very happy that I went.

I'm pretty sure I will always love Ice Cube. He's like. My 20 year crush. And counting.

So hungover though, off the Goose and cranberry cocktails I was sipping all night. I left leaning and grabbed a cab home like 20 seconds after I got onto the sidewalk. I wrote the dumbest wish list ever here and fell asleep marveling at the uber-softness of these new sheets I got. I slept like a drunken baby. That's deep sleep.

This morning I woke up paying for it and had to rush out of the house to make it to work on time for this departmental powwow thing, except that it was canceled at the last minute. So those extra 30 minutes of sleep were all, "how ya like me now?"

I would have liked them very much. Another argument for a time machine. I'm keeping track of them.

I got normal again at around 1. I don't think I've stopped working since.

Until now. Cause I just missed you so much, boo.

Good night.