HELLO NEW YEAR. HOW ARE YOU? NOT SURE YET HUH? ME TOO.

I started my new year decidedly different than any other year ever ever ever. And by that I mean this: I slept right thru the fucker. Seriously. In bed. Asleep. Happy days. That may not seem that unusual to you, but I ‘m a big new years eve-er… I fucking love the night. An excuse to party for no good reason- it’s not religious, it’s not celebrating independence or a person… it’s not about jack shit… it’s about a fucking calendar for god sakes… not THAT is my kind of holiday… instead of new years eve I feel that we should call it “for no good fucking reason”… yes.

But I digress. In just about every year past I have had some extravagant plans whereby a group of friends and I howl at the mood in some mind altered bender at midnight, and no calls me crazy when I set things on fire.

And I had that all lined up this year, I had an excellent small but good times party not far away from the house where I could get shit faced, howl, ice skate, be by a fire, be under the stars, fireworks on hand… perfect… happy days.

But at about 9pm I got in bed, called Shoni told her to count me out, put my eye mask and my ear plugs in and got under the covers.

Somewhere around midnight I woke up to the sound of fireworks, and right out my window was a huge fucking display… I mean huge, and right in basalt. SO without as much as getting out of bed, Pete and I never moved, we just pulled back the curtain, watched the AMAZING show, rolled over and went back to bed. It was kind of awesome.

However, when you are expected to be the “life” of the aforementioned party, the guilt and the expectations and the disappointments when you don’t arrive at said party… well, that shit follows you around… and everyone thinks something is wrong with you and blah blah blah.

And I’m like “no man, I was just tired…”

But I can see a trend starting here. Not about new years, but with my friends looking for the chase they used to know and not having an easy time finding her.

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Back in LA I feel like I am finally back in the states now. The last month has been such a cluster fuck- between work, incognito, driving to Colorado and the f-ing holidays… mama needs a break.

So I have spent the past few days paying bills, organizing my life, moving in to a comfortable level, seeing movies.. but mostly my time has been spent shopping for a car.

The last two times I have bought a car it was always fun… I mean shopping for a car means … well- YOU GET A NEW CAR. But this time it sucks ass. I attribute this to two factors. Firstly I am buying a used car (blarg). And secondly I don’t really WANT a car. I’d rather not thank you very much. And if I HAVE to… I thinking hybrid. Did you know those mother fuckers START at $30,000? Fuck that. Do you have $30,000? Cuz I sure as shit don’t. So then I’m like- go boring, reliable.. think rental car but not rented right? Oh for fuck sake how blasted boring is that?!!

I want character, spunk, spice, life… verve… But I also want the fucker to start in the morning. Ahhh the precarious nature of consumerism.

So after 4 days of 5 hours a day searching, I think I found a car that will due. I am driving down to Long Beach in the morning to check it out.

I think I am going to buy an SUV. Pause, wait for the “I’m joking” Actually I’m not. It’s not really a SUV, except that technically it is. It ‘s the Honda CR-V. It’s like a girly SUV. Lacks the gas guzzling cahones of a “real” SUV. No this puppy will get 30 miles to the gallon, a SUV I think not. (it’s essentially a civic on a truck chassis…

So anyway. I want to kill myself because those car salesmen are blood sucking greed mongering devil dick heads…. But I trudge on- thru the fiery pits of consumerism… trying to find my cay, one car panel at a time…

God damn this country is bleak. I guess the upside of buying a car is that the soon I get it the sooner I can see LA in my rear view window as I get the fuck out of this town. Ha.