San diego prelude

I write this from a harbor sheraton. It reeks of money and my wallet is
quite happy that it did not have to open much. I try not to get
impressed by pallasades, but the kid in me goes wide eyed at the sight
of so much glit and geld. In spite of all the entrance glamour, my bed
is a blanket on the floor. I'm not complaining, though. The alternative
was taking a bed from a kid.

The drive to san diego was cienamatic. T. drives a late model volkswagon
bug convertable. We dropped the top in a border town and spent the rest
of the night on 8 west, soaking up star rays. T. is an incredible road
companion and she aint half bad lookin' either. We spent a lot of time
jibbering and getting to know each other, which is always a good thing.
Company spent in the presence of prettiness is perfectly acceptable.

8 wound us to some side highways and then to 5 before purging us on the
west side of san diego. The skyline seemed impressive enough and the
pacific loomed purple once we hit the harbor. I didn't expect much to
see, given that we landed at 2am, but the scents were enough for me.
Jasmine runs amok and mixes with the salt lick of the ocean. Loosely
translated, my nose was caught in the throes of a multiple. I will
enjoy skipping around town tomorrow.

We might hit sea world. We may not. Its all up to T. and her weary body.
Either way, I'm happy. I had a road trip and I'm jazzing on the beach.
Tomorrow, I expect some eats, and some drinks on the beach.

D out
~ I write with your life and my own ~