Well the area is starting to sink in as what it is. I went to a pub last night ... well it was a golfer's bar. Boy did those people suck the shit from the puffy, inflamed anus of Jesse Helms. I just needed a drink and picked a shitty little place.

It's been a full week at work and I love it. It's a great company and they have the coolest coffee machine I've seen (you load it with a bullet of your flavor and it pumps out the water of life). I'm still looking at places around the area and planning my budget to pay off some old debts.

So I'm sitting here now, in my air-conditioned Marriot Residence, eating cool ranch doritos and drinking corona's (the beer choices here suck the balls of Corey Haim). It's been pretty surreal and now I think it's almost coming to reality. I've been denying it for a bit and not thinking about what I'm going to do outside of work. I think I'll drive to the coast tomorrow and see the ocean to feel normal again.

I never really thought of my tattoos before but some of the looks I get here crack me up. Someone said, "Gez you've got enough ink to write a book" and I almost laughed my ass off. If only I could bring my friends with me amigo... if only. People look more scared when I have my sunglasses off and they see the scar on the chin and the blood in the eye (yeah it's still there, but getting less each day). Many I like scaring some people.

On a sad note, I found out my cousin died on saturday in a motorcycle wreck. I had only met her a couple times and didn't really get to talk to her last time. It makes me sad that I didn't get to bullshit with her that much.