holy far!!

part of the reason i rant and rave about the ridiculous nature of californian life is due to the reality that an offer may present itself where i may join the ranks of driving parking driving driving traffic driving. and as i say anywhere i inhabit, "give me enough money and i'll make it work (at least 3-5 years)", however, this driving thing is getting out of control. i made my 55 mile trek to thousand oaks last night for the rare opportunity to see "he who pledged me" drink without the obligation of getting behind the wheel. he planned for a designated driver. foreshadowed a drunken room mate. and prepared the couch where i would crash on. we ended up at padris and im surprised we didnt just hit up the bar at the local chili's. suburbia drinking sounds like an oxymoron, but i guess when there's a will, there's a way. and somehow i made it there, and made it back.



from left to right (the asian blonde scientist, the raging alcoholic, mr "i bang my roomate every night", and professional party-er)