the gods must be smoking hash

what an unbelievably good weekend.

i swear it's a conspiracy now that i have a blog called kalipornia sux... they've conspired to give me less to hate.

friday night i stayed at home and rested. only to be woken from a nap by my incredibly sweet roommate offering fresh sushi. she and her boyfriend took a sushi class and somehow always manage to overshoot the mark of hunger. so i reap the rewards. yummy hand-rolled sushi.

saturday i went to the neurosis show at the troubadour. though they are old and much less angry, they still rock.

then i went to a party. at a house. and the people there were very engaging. liberals all, but fun to talk to and argue with.

and for once in my god-damned social life in kali, i don't remember one person name-dropping a celebrity. amazing. real people talking about real life at a real house party.

i didn't get home until 3:30 a.m.

when i woke up the next morning, my coolest roommate and her friend were hungover from their saturday night adventures which, apparently, involved an ad hoc limo-ride home.

so we cooked eggs and turkey cardboard (read: bacon) and sat on the floor and ate it while watching dirty dancing. ("i carried a watermelon?") damn, that's about as girly as i get.

then my flesh blanket, southie, calls to ask to hang out.

during the day?

i wasn't sure if it seemed like a good idea or not, but i went with it anyway.

some more sushi, a political conversation that involved shouting, (much to the chagrin of the employees of this fine establishment, yet enjoyed deeply by yours truly,) and one leather coat later we're back at his house having incredible, angry sex. hurts so good.

then he takes me home where i sleep alone (yay!) in my bed (okay, except for the cat.)

i couldn't have asked for it any better.

excepting, of course, that today is monday.