For all of you who still have youth on your side, take an example from my recent escapades to remind yourself that: (1) your life should be fun and spontaneous until the day you decide you're an "adult"; and, (2) don't ever take true friends for granted. There's always a reason some people stay in your life. Some of you know my buddy Mike Sullivan. For those who don't...
I grew up in Pittsburgh with Sully. He was one of the Three Muskateers (me, Sully & Chatham). He was the first love in my life. Then, he moved to Florida. As time passed, we stayed in touch - through changing phone numbers, apartments, houses, cities, etc. Occasionally, we'd lose each other, but always reconnected. And so it went. Drunken answering machine messages. Surprise phone calls. Postcards. We just never got our shit together and to visit. Fast forward to Friday night.
Went out with Coop on Friday. Had an awesome Italian meal and bottle of wine. Went to see
The Departed (which I had very low expectations for, but had to go see on the principle that it's a Scorsese film - was very pleasantly surprise to watch a beautifully filmed, incredibly violent, plot-twisting flick). Got home around midnight. Soon after, I get a phone call. It's Sully.
He just got back from three weeks in New Zealand and had stopped through San Diego to hang with his little bro, Ryan. Mike didn't realize that Phoenix is only five hours away. He tried to convince me to jump in the car, but I said no. As soon as I hung up the phone, I knew that I had to go. Fate had finally crossed our paths. This was the closest we've been to each other in 10 years. I showered, brewed coffee, packed a backpack and jumped in my car. So, at 2:00 in the morning, I was goin' to Cali.
A mug of coffee, a Diet Coke and a handful of No Doze later, I was well into the trip. I drove through the night, not seeing any of the beautiful landscape; however, at one point, I had the moon in front of me and the sun behind. Ryan lives, literally, where Interstate 8 ends, in Ocean Beach. I arrived at 7:00 in the morning and snuggled down on couch for a cat nap.
Yesterday, we partied in the morning, went out for burritos, went cliff rapelling/beach hiking, watched the sunset, had a jam session with Ryan's band, checked out USC's campus, drank 45% alcohol vodka from NZ, went to a party that got busted, smoked with some dudes from Portugal, slept for three hours and got Mike to the airport on time this morning. Ryan, and everyone else, was greatly impressed that the Road Warrior had even shown up, let alone partying for 24 hours straight without slowing down.
Right now, I'm freakin' exhausted, attempting to keep my eyes open long enough to watch the Steelers v. Chargers game. Consequences of taking this trip? NONE. So I'm tired; I'll go to bed early. So I spent some money I didn't have on gas; I'll be frugal next paycheck. A spur of the moment, five hour drive through the night to San Diego, to see Sully for the first time in ten years made perfect sense to me.
There are only two kinds of people in this world: people who
do and people who
don't.
I do.For the complete set of photos, visit my Flickr photo set:
Sunset Cliffs, San Diego: Fall 2006
