xlascaux

It has been raining and everything has that hot musty spring rain smell. And it is stifflingly hot in the office, where the ventilation system has yet to be switched over to air. Everyone is walking around sweating. I'd go down to my Tshirt if it weren't the fact that it is pink. Not b/c I bought it that way, but b/c it started out white but I never bother to separate laundry (almost everything is black anyway) and somehow all my v-necks turned pink. Red towel? I'm reading J.G. Ballard's Empire of the Sun. A coming-of-age story set in Shanghai during WWII. A nice distraction from current reality. Which is the aforementioned rain. We have our lunch meeting today, and I chose a Mexican place on the outskirts of town. I've been feeling really angry towards work recently, but this has subsided and become the usual dull thud of the everyday. I think I need a really good party. On the weekend I spent a lot of time with big gaggles of girls and I realized what I was missing. I usually spend most of my time out with the boyz. My best friend from yesteryear called last night.--to say he and his wife are coming over for a wedding and that they're preggers. It was only after I got off the phone with him that I remembered I had written a song more or less about him over the weekend. About that youthful enthusiasm-hope-future thing we have that then gets pounded away over time. He's the friend I used to run from cops with all growing up. Lots of long country roads late at night. I grew up in Iowa. I'm not sure I feel like growing up any more. Certainly not here like this. As I've mentioned before most of my friends are dull and void, on the downward curve of lives, wives, addictions, and whatever else. But I'm still kicking and I fancy a road trip.