Blame It On the Santa Anas
1-11-96
This Santa Ana condition is prompting a strange meteoro/physio -logical effect. The low pressure and dry air has made everyone light-headed with scratchy throats. We feel dizzy and tired. In school today, the lessened pressure caused our stomachs and arteries to dilate. Everyone is especially hungry. Maybe the wind kicked up some weird spore from out of the San Fernandos. I don't know, but it's not a good trip.
Shrill's here with her friend Christina, Shrill, eating soup, Christina draped over the love seat with a hangover.
1-15-96
Wha happen? I've missed a few days, due, I guess, to poor health and alcoholism. I finally got that upper repsiratory infection that's been going around. I called in sick to work on Friday, but still got talked out of the house to go drinking.
I already had a half a bottle of cough syrup in me, and then I drank double screwdrivers at the Derby telling myself the vitamin C would be good for my immune system. Before we left, I switched to Bushmills on the rocks. Don't know what I told myself about that. We walked down Hillhurst to the Good Luck Bar. The twerp at the door wouldn't let me in, he said, because I had no ID. I berated him, said I was obviously over twenty-one, and that he was just on a power trip. He stuck to his guns, and I said, "I was checking IDs in front of bars when you were still in a freshman in high school, you little prick," and I poked him in the chest. The next thing I knew we were rolling around the gutter with the cars turning onto Hillhurst from Sunset honking at us. He put my drunk ass in a chokehold and then someone pulled him off me, and I was taken away by my friends with my tail between my legs.
Surprise: I felt all wrong Sunday, stuck my fingers in my throat in a vain attempt to purge my nausea. I have scabs on the the left thumb knuckle, and the right pinky knuckle, and on my right elbow, and a slight abrasion on my forehead near the hairline.
All in a day's play.
Not to mention that persistent sore in my nose. I better start exercising more often; that guy was a middle lightweight, tops.
I just put the story in the mail. Feels pretty good. I have to do a few more.
Dylan Thomas soul God body death
I just need to fill these three pages so I can move onto my other chores: Harpers, guitar, NTN, review Ring's Haircut, Write in school journal, think about tomorrow, do the fifteen minutes writing exercise, do sentences, begin Jim Crack.
Get disks & disc holder, call internet classes, !Field Trip! Field Trip Field Trip Field Trip
This Santa Ana condition is prompting a strange meteoro/physio -logical effect. The low pressure and dry air has made everyone light-headed with scratchy throats. We feel dizzy and tired. In school today, the lessened pressure caused our stomachs and arteries to dilate. Everyone is especially hungry. Maybe the wind kicked up some weird spore from out of the San Fernandos. I don't know, but it's not a good trip.
Shrill's here with her friend Christina, Shrill, eating soup, Christina draped over the love seat with a hangover.
1-15-96
Wha happen? I've missed a few days, due, I guess, to poor health and alcoholism. I finally got that upper repsiratory infection that's been going around. I called in sick to work on Friday, but still got talked out of the house to go drinking.
I already had a half a bottle of cough syrup in me, and then I drank double screwdrivers at the Derby telling myself the vitamin C would be good for my immune system. Before we left, I switched to Bushmills on the rocks. Don't know what I told myself about that. We walked down Hillhurst to the Good Luck Bar. The twerp at the door wouldn't let me in, he said, because I had no ID. I berated him, said I was obviously over twenty-one, and that he was just on a power trip. He stuck to his guns, and I said, "I was checking IDs in front of bars when you were still in a freshman in high school, you little prick," and I poked him in the chest. The next thing I knew we were rolling around the gutter with the cars turning onto Hillhurst from Sunset honking at us. He put my drunk ass in a chokehold and then someone pulled him off me, and I was taken away by my friends with my tail between my legs.
Surprise: I felt all wrong Sunday, stuck my fingers in my throat in a vain attempt to purge my nausea. I have scabs on the the left thumb knuckle, and the right pinky knuckle, and on my right elbow, and a slight abrasion on my forehead near the hairline.
All in a day's play.
Not to mention that persistent sore in my nose. I better start exercising more often; that guy was a middle lightweight, tops.
I just put the story in the mail. Feels pretty good. I have to do a few more.
Dylan Thomas soul God body death
I just need to fill these three pages so I can move onto my other chores: Harpers, guitar, NTN, review Ring's Haircut, Write in school journal, think about tomorrow, do the fifteen minutes writing exercise, do sentences, begin Jim Crack.
Get disks & disc holder, call internet classes, !Field Trip! Field Trip Field Trip Field Trip
posted by johnz at 4:52 PM
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