Hm. I haven't updated my journal in a while.
The first 48 hours after I arrived were a veritable crazy shit fest. But then again, with my best friend, things have a penchant for flying off the handle once I've finished a long trip somewhere. I once got off the bus from San Antonio in Las Vegas after 31 hours and, 12 hours later, he and his buddy threw me in a car and we all drove to Seattle. I ought to tell you THAT story sometime.
But one thing at a time here. I flew in to help him move this past Saturday. A long, uneventful plane ride that didn't really offend me (thank you, Delta Airlines) ends with me meeting up with him and us driving out and up to the apartment to get his keys. We hit the road... and the road just keeps on going. You see, I just spent seven hours on two jets, so my patience for lengthy travel is a bit thin at this point, so 220 miles at 65 mph seems like a rather big deal. And he doesn't want to get pulled over by the otherwise scary Arkansas police.
Wr drive through scary forest on a two way road past Hope, AR while listening to Eminem's new album. I really like the new album, even though I now associate it with the dark and otherwise evil-looking Ozark forest, and that everyone else I know hates Eminem's music.
My friend warns me that Shreveport is about six steps down the ladder, about as depressing as any town I can imagine. Driving through Louisiana there are eerie yellow bills posted on every tree we pass, and despite my curiosity there is NO WAY IN HELL I'm asking him to stop or slow down so I can look.
Shreveport arrives after a bunch of hours and yes, it's as depressing as he told me. Shops are shut down and storefronts are empty left and right. It's like a small town, only big, and in a bad way. Every gas station we had passed since crossing the Louisiana state border was abandoned, closed, and about half the places, let alone the gas stations, we pass are abandoned. No wonder living here made him want to die.
We pass the triple decker freeway that exists for no reason (don't tell him, but it's I-20, a major highway. Not that I-20 in Shreveport needs that much concrete. I guess THAT'S what their exorbitant DMV rates are spent on: needless roads) and pull up to his apartment, and it's about as muggy as San Antonio's worst days, and this is after the Sun has gone down.
... that's enough for the moment. It's when we have the junk moved in and we're on the road that things get interesting, but for the sake of this journal entry we'll cut off there.
He's showed me the Cowboy Bebop series and I am VERY impressed. His assertion that it's the best TV series there is has some ground and, while I'm always hesistant to call something THE best, this is right there, baby. FIND THIS SHOW on DVD if you can, because you will NOT be disappointed.
I've eaten frozen pizza and drank soy milk out of the carton for the last five days, because that's all I've bought at the store.
Anyone know who did a Hairspray Metal song called "Hot Love"? I'll tell you why in the next entry, but damn, that song's stuck in my head STILL, days after the fact.
That's enough. More to come.
The first 48 hours after I arrived were a veritable crazy shit fest. But then again, with my best friend, things have a penchant for flying off the handle once I've finished a long trip somewhere. I once got off the bus from San Antonio in Las Vegas after 31 hours and, 12 hours later, he and his buddy threw me in a car and we all drove to Seattle. I ought to tell you THAT story sometime.
But one thing at a time here. I flew in to help him move this past Saturday. A long, uneventful plane ride that didn't really offend me (thank you, Delta Airlines) ends with me meeting up with him and us driving out and up to the apartment to get his keys. We hit the road... and the road just keeps on going. You see, I just spent seven hours on two jets, so my patience for lengthy travel is a bit thin at this point, so 220 miles at 65 mph seems like a rather big deal. And he doesn't want to get pulled over by the otherwise scary Arkansas police.
Wr drive through scary forest on a two way road past Hope, AR while listening to Eminem's new album. I really like the new album, even though I now associate it with the dark and otherwise evil-looking Ozark forest, and that everyone else I know hates Eminem's music.
My friend warns me that Shreveport is about six steps down the ladder, about as depressing as any town I can imagine. Driving through Louisiana there are eerie yellow bills posted on every tree we pass, and despite my curiosity there is NO WAY IN HELL I'm asking him to stop or slow down so I can look.
Shreveport arrives after a bunch of hours and yes, it's as depressing as he told me. Shops are shut down and storefronts are empty left and right. It's like a small town, only big, and in a bad way. Every gas station we had passed since crossing the Louisiana state border was abandoned, closed, and about half the places, let alone the gas stations, we pass are abandoned. No wonder living here made him want to die.
We pass the triple decker freeway that exists for no reason (don't tell him, but it's I-20, a major highway. Not that I-20 in Shreveport needs that much concrete. I guess THAT'S what their exorbitant DMV rates are spent on: needless roads) and pull up to his apartment, and it's about as muggy as San Antonio's worst days, and this is after the Sun has gone down.
... that's enough for the moment. It's when we have the junk moved in and we're on the road that things get interesting, but for the sake of this journal entry we'll cut off there.
He's showed me the Cowboy Bebop series and I am VERY impressed. His assertion that it's the best TV series there is has some ground and, while I'm always hesistant to call something THE best, this is right there, baby. FIND THIS SHOW on DVD if you can, because you will NOT be disappointed.
I've eaten frozen pizza and drank soy milk out of the carton for the last five days, because that's all I've bought at the store.
Anyone know who did a Hairspray Metal song called "Hot Love"? I'll tell you why in the next entry, but damn, that song's stuck in my head STILL, days after the fact.
That's enough. More to come.