Back in Bend

My trip home from LA was eventful. I visited Sleepy Molly at Hermosa Beach, the highlight of which was a restaurant named Sharkeez and its unlimited mimosas/chips and salsa bar that comes with every breakfast purchase. What a steal! Otherwise, Molly slept... a lot. And so the moniker "Sleepy Molly" was birthed. Fun times.

San Francisco was super fun, as my dear friends Simone and Katelyn went out of their way to ensure a dull moment never dampened our good spirits. Basically, this meant watching a lot of LOST, drinking a lot of cheap beer, and laughing over inanities (yes... it's a noun. Look it up! [I had to]). Although our attempt to sneak at least two of the three of us into a showing of District 9 backfired, and the weather insisted on remaining cold and windy for my entire four-day visit, we took to the streets every night like the brave vagrants we (read: Simone) sometimes (read: often) resemble(s), and I couldn't be happier about the cavalcade of poor choices that made each sojourn at least slightly memorable.

Driving into Oregon made my Thursday afternoon - minus the speeding ticket. I love trees! And mountains! And toothless Klamath Falls gas station attendants! And single lane highways! And Gilchrist... oh Christ, Gilchrist! Since my return, I've pretty much just been staring out my bedroom windows at the trees and mountains and soaking it all up. Also, I finally went and paid to see District 9, which was both incredibly intense and violent. A must see!

Today's my 22nd birthday. I don't know why I'm sitting here updating my blog, but it seemed pertinent. My parents took me out to breakfast at Alpenglow. I'd like the record to show that neither wished me happy birthday until the second time they saw me this morning... I mean, I know I'm not supposed to let little shit like that get me down on such an awesome day, but who the hell doesn't wish someone a happy birthday (especially when that someone is their own son!), like, the second they see them?! Strange...

Otherwise, Disneyland kicked ass. I'm still retrospecting the whole thing, but I think for now I'd just like to say it was a trip and a half. Maybe even a trip and three-quarters.