A Long Journey...
May. 5th, 2007 12:04 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
banshee1067.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
transShould probably be getting in the shower and leaving for Fresno soon. My friend Harry's 50th birthday party is tonight and I shouldn't arrive too late.
Sometimes I wonder if I should envy Harry. He's turning 50, and he's a successful criminal defense attorney in a major city, but he's kind of a kid. When I first rode in his car (a BMW 5-series, if memory serves), he asked me if I thought it was cool. When we attended Coachella last year, he openly pointed out girls he thought were hot...although I like Harry, it was a bit embarrassing, especially since he's an older guy. Still, Harry is the happiest person I know...has lived in Fresno for like 25 years, knows the best places to go for food, and seems pretty comfy in his life. Maybe happiness is for the less self-aware, and granted, Harry does have a girlfriend and all.
I'm kinda drunk and kinda high... Jesus, ten years ago, I would have thought I sounded like a real loser right now, but I've done it enough where I can "handle it", meaning I'm used to driving high, even smoking my bullet while driving.
The music is incredible...Hans Zimmer's score for "Thelma & Louise", which was never even released save for one or two cues only on the CD. Sometimes that's part of what I love about film music...almost nobody even notices the music in a movie unless it's something like "Star Wars" or "Titanic", where it's impossible not to notice. There's almost a sort of nobility in being a film composer...I guess you have to take comfort in being a professional, even though to many you're anonymous.
I need to quit drinking (which will be easy) and smoking pot (hard). I don't need to QUIT smoking pot, but I know I'm doing way too much of it. It's easier to sink into a mire of pot-induced self-pity than do something about your life, and my mind is good at thinking of excuses to shut down and do nothing.
Anyway, although I feel wonderful, my long legs all atangle as they wrestle tensely with each other, drum machines and synth fluttering away while guitar supplies the sad, sad melody, I need to shower and prepare for 270 miles of open road between here and Fresno, through Los Angeles in Bakersfield, through the Grapevine.
Probably no Internet contact till Monday.
Until then...
Sometimes I wonder if I should envy Harry. He's turning 50, and he's a successful criminal defense attorney in a major city, but he's kind of a kid. When I first rode in his car (a BMW 5-series, if memory serves), he asked me if I thought it was cool. When we attended Coachella last year, he openly pointed out girls he thought were hot...although I like Harry, it was a bit embarrassing, especially since he's an older guy. Still, Harry is the happiest person I know...has lived in Fresno for like 25 years, knows the best places to go for food, and seems pretty comfy in his life. Maybe happiness is for the less self-aware, and granted, Harry does have a girlfriend and all.
I'm kinda drunk and kinda high... Jesus, ten years ago, I would have thought I sounded like a real loser right now, but I've done it enough where I can "handle it", meaning I'm used to driving high, even smoking my bullet while driving.
The music is incredible...Hans Zimmer's score for "Thelma & Louise", which was never even released save for one or two cues only on the CD. Sometimes that's part of what I love about film music...almost nobody even notices the music in a movie unless it's something like "Star Wars" or "Titanic", where it's impossible not to notice. There's almost a sort of nobility in being a film composer...I guess you have to take comfort in being a professional, even though to many you're anonymous.
I need to quit drinking (which will be easy) and smoking pot (hard). I don't need to QUIT smoking pot, but I know I'm doing way too much of it. It's easier to sink into a mire of pot-induced self-pity than do something about your life, and my mind is good at thinking of excuses to shut down and do nothing.
Anyway, although I feel wonderful, my long legs all atangle as they wrestle tensely with each other, drum machines and synth fluttering away while guitar supplies the sad, sad melody, I need to shower and prepare for 270 miles of open road between here and Fresno, through Los Angeles in Bakersfield, through the Grapevine.
Probably no Internet contact till Monday.
Until then...