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| 22 oct 2001 "america needs to go on a diet" ah, the picture of the lantana 6.� from the left are: alan, me, jay, alex (the groom), jack, and jeremy.� we six (the other two in the drawgroup are dave and matt) drew together into lantana dorm our junior year.� jack and i roomed together, alan and jay roomed together, and alex and jeremy rounded out the last pair.� it was a good year, and aside from the crazy blissful freshman year, junior year was my favorite at stanford.� lots of drinking and social interaction.� *sigh*� good memories. man.� the drive to LA was painful.� friday afternoon traffic was so bad that it took us TWO hours to travel a meager 50 miles.� that merge near coyote creek is always bad, as expected, but 152 was ridiculously bad for no apparent reason... no accident, pullover, or anything else that should have resulted in a slowdown.� i HATE those ridiculous unexplainable traffic stretches. i mailed this picture to my mom, and she asked some funny questions.� first, she asked why i wear bright colors when everyone else is toned down.� and then she asked why the heck jack is wearing sunglasses. the wedding itself was really pretty... it was at the hotel bel air, and there were four swans in the neighboring pond, and flower petals in the walkway to the gazebo where the couple got married.� the problem was that i had a hard time hearing the person talking, so that kinda sucked. and the hors d'ouevres!� shit.� give me more of those crabcakes!� i was so hungry that i swarmed whoever was serving the appetizers.� i even blurted out "POTSTICKER MAN!" when i saw him go by.� i feel bad.� i must have seemed like a pig, but damn, i was hungry. the meal wasn't really enjoyable... we got this funky salad that tasted like bitter shit (even though it was beautifully presented).� then this beef stuff on top of some potato stuff that had this really bizarre disgusting cheese (my guess was that it was roquefort cheese) that everyone said was good... but when i made them taste mine, every single one of them agreed that it was 100% nast.� somehow they must have given me the stank cheese, which really upset me, because i know that if they toned down the cheese, it would have tasted pretty good.� oh well. i guess the story of the day was jack and his mysterious resolve to get completely trashed while everyone else stayed pretty much sober.� he had like well over 10 drinks in a short amount of time, which included a ton of red wine... and you know that red wine gives bad hangovers, so i knew that he'd be paying for it later.� he was really gregarious, talking so loudly that i could hear him while i was in the bathroom.� but he held up surprising well until late in the wedding, when i guess the world must have collapsed and spun away from him.� puking and staggering and slurring and finally he passed out.� poor guy.� it reminds me that getting trashed is no longer fun for me.� i learned that lesson myself at my housewarming party.� i guess when you drink that much, the price you pay in the end outweighs the hour or two of crazy delirious fun that you have before it all hits you like a ton of bricks. but i hate LA.� i was driving back to kate and jeremy's hotel on saturday night, and of all things, there was bad traffic on the 101 at MIDNIGHT.� only in LA is there traffic at that hour of the day.� *grumble* the first night i stayed in alex's house, which is fucking amazing.� being from the bay area and suffering through its ridiculously high housing prices, we all appreciated the enormity and swankiness of alex's pad.� *sigh*� fucking ridiculous for a person of our age to own. i slept in my sleeping bag on alex's hardwood floors, and it really hurt.� that's why i decided to stay with kate and jeremy at their hotel.� they even got me a rollaway bed, and it was so soft (like a trampoline) that i don't think i've slept that well in years. these past three nights i've had dreams about women i've loved.� it's really weird.� friday night, i dreamed that i travelled to asia twice, and the second time, i wound up in this supermega-Kmart in singapore.� so i called up jo-ann, and we wound up kissing.� and then, saturday night, i dreamt that i finally confronted kristie, and we tried to become friends again.� it was pretty realistic because kristie kept running away and breaking down and stuff... but in the end, i think we sorted things out, which is something i really want to do in real life (but she won't fucking respond to my e-mails).� and finally, last night, i dreamt about amie, my high school monster crush.� she's the only blonde girl i've ever liked.� strange, because i haven't talked to her in well over a year.� she's at harvard law. so yeah, it was a nice trip overall.� i didn't like the driving too much, although i didn't drive.� jeremy's such a trooper.� he loves his car, which he affectionately calls the silver bullet.� ha!� but yeah, it gets over 30 mpg, which is hella respectable. so now, half our drawgroup 8 is officially married.� with another wedding to come next september.� amazing.� i bet i'm the last to go. one little gripe which i shouldn't be having, though, is that the entire time, i was hanging out with couples the entire time.� which really made me miss women.� i know i shouldn't be uncomfortable, and i'm not "uncomfortable" per se, but sometimes, being among all these pairs of people... i just feel a little out of place, you know?� like everyone's walking hand in hand with their mate, and i'm just dilly dallying around by my lonesome.� it's a weird feeling sometimes. oh.� i had some revelations about my bulimia.� this was while i after i had yacked a little bit of my dinner and some johnny walker black that i had earlier in alex's front yard (sorry, alex), and i was having a post-barf smoke while sitting on the front porch. basically, i puke because i know i will feel better afterwards.� it's kind of a release of all the bad physical and emotional feelings that i have beforehand.� and throwing up is a way to get rid of those feelings, like literally purging the shit out of my system.� it's kind of a symbolic act that i've unfortunately adopted as a normal (and frequent) thing to do.� and i'm not quite sure what i'm going to do about it.� because as long as i feel bad in a general sense, my body will keep pushing for it.� *sigh* yesterday, i guess it was a subconscious thing... it was the day of the WWF pay-per-view called "no mercy."� remember how i usually eat an entire pizza at my old place lenox while watching these shows.� so i decided to order me up a pizza anyways, despite the fact that i wasn't going to watch the pay-per-view.� i guess it was just a monthly sunday habit that i've adopted because of the WWF.� i ordered a medium pepperoni rostadoro, which cost me an insane amount of money ($22 with tip).� and i ate the whole thing.� gross.� i think jay was impressed, but damn, in my prime years, i could eat an entire LARGE pizza.� this was just a mini-display.� but it was still good, though.� it's a good pizza.� although i'm farting a lot today in the aftermath. my plan this weekend is to find time to hike up to the stanford dish and just mull over my life and where it's going and stuff.� the dish is my place of solace and ultimate comfort and lucidity.� and i haven't been there in over a year and half.� so it's about time i went back there and just thought about things. it's been been three straight weekends (ny, reunion, la) of being busy.� it's not good for me.� in order to actually recharge, i need to feel bored.� i need days of doing zilch, just sitting at home and feeling completely idle.� isn't that weird?� in any case, i'm kind of glad that i don't have anything planned for this coming weekend.� so i can finally have my days of nothingness. |