the previous evening was spent

with pals whom i haven't seen in months for some stupid reason or another (i.e. me working and being boring). we met at hollywood thai, where a middle-aged asian man in a sleeveless denim vest sang billy joel songs on stage accompanied by electric guitar and karaoke machine; on the stool next to him was a plastic jar labeled TIPS THANK YOU, but from where where we sat seemed to plead TIP HANK. the place was empty and dark save for the stage lights and the flourescent glow from the fishtank and television; as i mentioned to matt when we got there, if i ever feel the need to drink my feelings this is where i would do go.


hugs were exchanged. beer flowed. current goings-on and future plans were mused upon. as much as i love kids and lunchladies and fourth grade teachers, i needed to be around people my age. people who speak my language, kindred spirits who somehow manage to live and love despite understanding all too well what it means to be broke, jobless, and without a clue--more often than not in the same breath. ah, to remain dangerously and relentlessly optimistic; it's an artform.