Prepare yourselves for an inordinate amount unnecessary details. Are you scared yet? You should be... You should beeee... Shit, sorry about the Yoda quote. I don't what came over me.
My flight left Phoenix Wednesday at 9:00 pm, Arizona time. I chose a window seat, as usual. This is my favorite choice, because I love flying, almost as much as I love free fall. If I could skydive every day, I don't think I'd need a girlfriend. But, it would be nice to have one of those too. The plane hit the tarmac in LA at 9:15 pm, Pacific time. I exited the airport at around 9:30, and stood, waiting for the bus to the metrolink train station. While I was waiting, a bus pulled up, with a sign proclaiming that its destination was Van Nuys. A bit of quick thinking on my part led me to decide that I could take this Van Nuys bus, and from Van Nuys, I could catch a bus or cab to North Hollywood, as Van Nuys is not too far from where I live. This would help me avoid the two hour train ride. I felt particularly proud of myself, for about an hour.
My hour of vainglory ceased when I arrived at this weird ass little bus station, which offered only busses to LAX and back. So I went outside to find a cab. Right. You dont honestly think I found one do you? What the hell would be the point of telling the story then? Sort of anticlimactic, dont you think. Oh, sure... My journals are always anticlimactic, but you should know by now that there are always far more twists and turns before the inevitable disappointment in the end. Like I said, I went outside to find a cab... And surprise, surprise! I found one. Hah! I fooled you. I approached the cab driver, and knocked on his window. Waking him up was a bad idea. He yelled through the window that he was sleeping. Evidently not off duty, just sleeping. This was disconcerting. I hadnt paid attention on the way in, but I figured I probably needed to head south. Left looked like it was southish. So I headed southish... Possibly.
I came across a couple walking maybe-northish, and asked if they new where Magnolia was, or even just south. The gentleman kindly replied in a language that sounded Russian. I do not speak Russian. Or any language that sounds like Russian, either. So I smiled, and said politely, Youve been of no help to me. The kind sir smiled back, and said, You Americans are so stupid, or something to that affect. I made a mental note to learn a language that sounds like Russian, and moved on. I wasnt exactly in the best of spirits. The military left me with many things. One of those things is a set of knees that are almost entirely useless now. The rest of the list isnt any better. The pain in my knees was pissing me off, and all I wanted was to see a familiar sign, to help cheer me up. It only took about 10 minutes before I saw a sign for Sherman Way. I knew exactly where Sherman Way was... And it didnt cheer me up at all.
I continued walking possibly-southish for quite some time. Ignoring street signs, in a vain attempt to avoid crushing my spirit again. When I came to an intersection that I would have to classify as evil. It way Victory Blvd., which was helpful, because I now knew that I was indeed headed south. But right across the street, in the direction Id been headed, there were no street lights at all. What was worse, was that the street was gated. The gate was open, but personal history had taught me that, where there are gated streets, fences are sure to follow. With fences come things like climbing, trespassing, and the inevitable water runoff ditches of varying size and difficulty. I wasnt sure which way to go. I flipped a coin in my head, and it landed on youre fucked. So I went left. I continued leftways, until I hit Sepulva, at which time I decided to head south again. I came to Oxnard, which cheered me up. Oxnard meant that I had cut my distance south in half. And it had only taken me... Well, it had taken me a long fucking time.
So, blah blah blah, I did a lot more walking, and I finally hit Magnolia. Left had been working out for me all night, so I decided to stick with that. A few blocks later, I came across Van Nuys. Magnolia and Van Nuys is about where Heather lives. So I excitedly checked her street for Sams truck. No sign. Then I checked the garage for her car. Also missing. But I knew where Id find the both of them. They where at my destination. Its times like this that make me wish Id reconnected my cell phone. Because, you see... Heathers apartment is almost as far from mine, as it is from where ever the hell Id just walked from.
Would you like me to describe the rest of the walk? Just picture every angry face youve ever seen. Because I made all of them, and even invented a few of my own. By the time I got to the apartment, my knees were in soooo much pain. And my jeans had chapped the inside of my left thigh to the point where it had bleed through. Yay. So I walked in the apartment, opened the fridge, and grabbed a beer. Then I thought better of it, set the beer down, and poured some rum, with a dash of coke for coloring. I rethought it another time, and decided to take both. In all, I walked 10.76 miles in just over 2 hours. Thats right, I mapquested it. Wouldnt you? Its not the farthest Ive ever walked. But its definitely the farthest Ive walked without expecting it.
With that, my story is over. And right now youre wondering why you just wasted your time reading about some guy walking. I tried to warn you at the beginning. But, to make up for it, my next journal will consist of nothing but emoticons. Youre welcome.
UPDATE!!!! August 5th @ 2:37 AM:
Wasabi makes my nose burn. That is all.
My flight left Phoenix Wednesday at 9:00 pm, Arizona time. I chose a window seat, as usual. This is my favorite choice, because I love flying, almost as much as I love free fall. If I could skydive every day, I don't think I'd need a girlfriend. But, it would be nice to have one of those too. The plane hit the tarmac in LA at 9:15 pm, Pacific time. I exited the airport at around 9:30, and stood, waiting for the bus to the metrolink train station. While I was waiting, a bus pulled up, with a sign proclaiming that its destination was Van Nuys. A bit of quick thinking on my part led me to decide that I could take this Van Nuys bus, and from Van Nuys, I could catch a bus or cab to North Hollywood, as Van Nuys is not too far from where I live. This would help me avoid the two hour train ride. I felt particularly proud of myself, for about an hour.
My hour of vainglory ceased when I arrived at this weird ass little bus station, which offered only busses to LAX and back. So I went outside to find a cab. Right. You dont honestly think I found one do you? What the hell would be the point of telling the story then? Sort of anticlimactic, dont you think. Oh, sure... My journals are always anticlimactic, but you should know by now that there are always far more twists and turns before the inevitable disappointment in the end. Like I said, I went outside to find a cab... And surprise, surprise! I found one. Hah! I fooled you. I approached the cab driver, and knocked on his window. Waking him up was a bad idea. He yelled through the window that he was sleeping. Evidently not off duty, just sleeping. This was disconcerting. I hadnt paid attention on the way in, but I figured I probably needed to head south. Left looked like it was southish. So I headed southish... Possibly.
I came across a couple walking maybe-northish, and asked if they new where Magnolia was, or even just south. The gentleman kindly replied in a language that sounded Russian. I do not speak Russian. Or any language that sounds like Russian, either. So I smiled, and said politely, Youve been of no help to me. The kind sir smiled back, and said, You Americans are so stupid, or something to that affect. I made a mental note to learn a language that sounds like Russian, and moved on. I wasnt exactly in the best of spirits. The military left me with many things. One of those things is a set of knees that are almost entirely useless now. The rest of the list isnt any better. The pain in my knees was pissing me off, and all I wanted was to see a familiar sign, to help cheer me up. It only took about 10 minutes before I saw a sign for Sherman Way. I knew exactly where Sherman Way was... And it didnt cheer me up at all.
I continued walking possibly-southish for quite some time. Ignoring street signs, in a vain attempt to avoid crushing my spirit again. When I came to an intersection that I would have to classify as evil. It way Victory Blvd., which was helpful, because I now knew that I was indeed headed south. But right across the street, in the direction Id been headed, there were no street lights at all. What was worse, was that the street was gated. The gate was open, but personal history had taught me that, where there are gated streets, fences are sure to follow. With fences come things like climbing, trespassing, and the inevitable water runoff ditches of varying size and difficulty. I wasnt sure which way to go. I flipped a coin in my head, and it landed on youre fucked. So I went left. I continued leftways, until I hit Sepulva, at which time I decided to head south again. I came to Oxnard, which cheered me up. Oxnard meant that I had cut my distance south in half. And it had only taken me... Well, it had taken me a long fucking time.
So, blah blah blah, I did a lot more walking, and I finally hit Magnolia. Left had been working out for me all night, so I decided to stick with that. A few blocks later, I came across Van Nuys. Magnolia and Van Nuys is about where Heather lives. So I excitedly checked her street for Sams truck. No sign. Then I checked the garage for her car. Also missing. But I knew where Id find the both of them. They where at my destination. Its times like this that make me wish Id reconnected my cell phone. Because, you see... Heathers apartment is almost as far from mine, as it is from where ever the hell Id just walked from.
Would you like me to describe the rest of the walk? Just picture every angry face youve ever seen. Because I made all of them, and even invented a few of my own. By the time I got to the apartment, my knees were in soooo much pain. And my jeans had chapped the inside of my left thigh to the point where it had bleed through. Yay. So I walked in the apartment, opened the fridge, and grabbed a beer. Then I thought better of it, set the beer down, and poured some rum, with a dash of coke for coloring. I rethought it another time, and decided to take both. In all, I walked 10.76 miles in just over 2 hours. Thats right, I mapquested it. Wouldnt you? Its not the farthest Ive ever walked. But its definitely the farthest Ive walked without expecting it.
With that, my story is over. And right now youre wondering why you just wasted your time reading about some guy walking. I tried to warn you at the beginning. But, to make up for it, my next journal will consist of nothing but emoticons. Youre welcome.
UPDATE!!!! August 5th @ 2:37 AM:
Wasabi makes my nose burn. That is all.
VIEW 12 of 12 COMMENTS
As shitty as descibed it sound like an trip to me.
probably becuase i wasnt there.