the best of 2005, part ii: dance parties, taquerias,

and the open road; a handful of this year's fondest memories. from the haphazard and inconsequential to the earth-shatteringly momentous. from mini-successes to painful setbacks, from the minor falls to the major lifts. and everything betwixt and between. in no particular order:


4am coffee and muffins at dolores, mountain goats at the echo, california burritos, postcards from peggy's antiques in pasadena, swap meets, mike giving akanksha sensuous lap-dances in public, terri anderson's un-ironic plastic neon-green sunglasses, thursday farmer's market with the jazz band playing "georgia on my mind" as the vendors loaded their trucks, the corn on the cob vendor at the farmer's market who calls me sweetie and asks where i've been then shows me pictures of her baby girl,


the 24 hour 1500 mile drive from los angeles to austin via the 10 east, scrumisha propositioning sulaiman at the lancaster 7-11, lumpy the cat, new cell phone (the flip kind), double features at the new beverly, 'mikey g in westwood looking fo big dick' on craigslist posted by lee, lu valle lunch club, fake italian supermodel luca pipin-farina, sociology of the family with mikey and keeley and sally and natalie whose cigarettes i'd light, pilfering the neighbor's wifi network "DOOMONMANKIND," sustaining myself over the summer with tortillas and 1 dollar tv dinners, watching stage coach and the wild bunch with thomas at 3am complete with welch's grape soda and chicken pesto pizza from italian express, light saber battles with cindy's kid brother,


2am drives to el tapatio for chorizo & egg burritos, breaking into the chemistry building to steal lab coats, filming documentary on high school latin conventions, destroying our throats to "total eclipse of the heart" at brian's karaoke birthday extravaganza, kicking sean paul's ass in def jam fight for ny, getting yelled at by karen for not doing my job, halloween decorations at zanzibar, rolling a spare tire down a flight of stairs to nick's caddy, georges delerue's "comment voulez-vous?" from the 400 blows, robek's with cindy and lori after work, getting my powerbook, 24 hour rite aids, x-ray spex/the undertones/nick cave/free wifi/hot chocolate at cacao, getting a flat tire the day i had to move into the new apartment, me and tracey fighting moths with billiard cues,


thai elvis, hanging out at zanzibar, cookie monster's commencement address, watching hours of the oh-so-asinine mike and ben show with nick, finding getz-gilberto lp at garage sale, the shirelles' "i met him on a sunday" at the end of silverlake life, half-liter glass coke bottles imported from mexico at tacomiendo, hanging with the 6 foot 7 freestyling jew on 6th street, matt's pop and lock moves at the days inn, brian jonestown massacre's "ballad of jim jones," trying to figure out why she left me by staying home from work and watching high fidelity over and over and over and over, waking up several times to find medium-sized victoria's secret thongs hanging on my doorknob, backscratcher from amy, monday treks with roommates to the valley for dollar hot dogs at the stand, grade school talent shows,


sunday swap meets at fairfax high, graduation, realizing that there is life after graduation, driving through new mexico with nothing on the radio but bad country, eating the "best pizza in the world" with matt and ray and akanksha and nate, love's country shops and travel stops, laundromats, jasmine's postcard from new york, early spring evenings on campus when the sky was purple and orange, blogs and my blog readers, breakfast and trips to the goodwill with peggy on sundays, smoking cigarettes sitting on the unsightly wicker bench outside of the apartment when the summer nights were dark and sticky, saturday nights alone with thelonious monk on the record player, my first paycheck as a college graduate, being called "mr. tony" and getting paid for playing handball and turning jumpropes, homer singing "wichita lineman," never getting tired of homer singing "wichita lineman," and never getting tired of living and laughing.

now i shall close with the words of elvin drake, as sung by the impeccable william shatner.

"i think of my life as vintage wine from old kegs,
from the brim to the dregs it poured sweet, and clear-

it was a very good year."