I spent last night living in a bit of a time warp. My friend, Mike, with whom I traveled across the country two summer's ago during his move to San Diego was back in town for a few days and needed a place to stay. We grabbed some dinner and a pitcher of Pabst at the Other Side Cafe' on Newbury, the local hipster eatery. While I half-drunkenly snacked on my prosciutto sandwich and pasta fagiole I listened to Mike talk about his life in San Diego. He was talking about things like leaving for tour just after the new year, being vegan, and peta protests while I just kinda sat there googly eyed without really being able to muster up any sort of response. Understand that I mean no disrespect... but I couldn't help but think about how far passed all of those kind of things that I was. Maybe it's that I was never really "in" it at all. Maybe I was just a passive observer, dipping my toe in the pool and realizing that it was either way too hot or cold to actually swim in. Instead I opted to sit shirtless the whole time in a lawn chair next to the water, letting the sun bronze my skin... reaping the benefits of the situation but not actually engrossing myself in it. And now that the sun's gone for the day I'm inside getting ready to flaunt my new tan and head out to tackle bigger and better things while the rest of the suckers are bitching about being tired or cramps. Still with me? Good, because if you've made it this far I'll reward you by ending this terrible metaphor before it exposes any more holes in my ability to write than it already has.

Mike, however, is a very dear friend and I appreciated being able to spend time with him. To be honest I never thought I'd ever see him again. One pitcher and one six pack of Honey Browns later I passed out on my couch, just 5 minutes into Run Ronnie Run, happy that I was able to experience this introspective night. It couldn't have come at a better time. I certainly wish Mike the best of luck with his future plans. His band, Tamora, does in fact kick you square in the balls with some fairly heavy hardcore and their debut EP will be out soon on Happy Couples Never Last, I suggest checking it out when it does. For the record, openly admitting that I've forever traded in my hipster clothes for that really nice new shit from Banana Republic doesn't still mean that the music I listen to isn't ten times cooler than yours, bitches.

I had a late night phone call around 3AM that I still can't decipher the meaning of. While I'm sure that the phone call itself was real, its dreamlike qualities of being cryptical and curious but probably meaningless have been haunting me since I hung up the phone about 17 minutes after I answered. --