Bus Driver to Hell

If you’ve maybe been feeling sorry for me lately, don’t. Guess what I did today? I hiked some mountain in my favorite hiking weather of light rain, had hot chai at the top, then got a bunch of FREE magically delicious Chinese take-out and watched a good movie with my little brother (while having the optional ending of FREE sushi and open bar, but I’m still not in the drinking mood). Life really doesn’t suck too hard.
I decided to hike Mount Si since it was close by and it’s one of the few places I still get a phone signal at (I was on call for work). Being that it was such a rainy day, the view was non-existent up top, but the hike was nice and quiet.
Being that I’m so close to being done with my project, I’ve got friends that are eagerly awaiting the completion of the game, so that I can go drinking with them. Really, they’re all lined up at the finish line with shots, lime, and salt, all ready to go.
Having cut off so much of my drinking habit lately has brought up a few interesting light. I’ve always said it’s stupid easy to drag someone into hell, but nigh impossible to get them out. Every time someone finds out I haven’t been drinking, they try to find out what “my problem” is…and will actively seek a cure.
A few years ago, in the peak of my party phase, I would be driving around to a 4am after-hours party with my car packed to the brim…quite often 10 people stacked on top of each other. Balls of coke, tabs of ecstasy, bottle of GHB, bottles of vodka, jugs of whiskey, joints galore, plus a mix of other drugs that even I wouldn’t touch and porn blaring on the screen. That is my prequel of driving the bus to hell. There is never a lack of passengers. Why do I ALWAYS drive? So that I may come and go as I please. And, no offense, Prince of Darkness, your place is lovely and all, but sometimes I miss my fluffy soft bed.
Every now and then, my friends would comment on my darker days and remind me how much they worried about me…I would shrug. Sometimes I get the feeling that they want me to apologize or say I didn’t know what I was thinking. All I would say is, “If I could go back in time, knowing what I know now, I would do it all over again. Because, god damned, that was so much fun! I had a fucking blast!” Given the chance to do it all again now, I wouldn’t want to, but what was right for the moment was just that. For those that are curious about dabbling in powder, if you’re going to mix, go with the coke first because it’ll numb your sinus…just about everything else will sting like a mother fucker…oh and I’ve heard about this from a friend of a friend of course.
Now all my friends that were so worried about me are focused on getting me back into drinking more? I already know I’m going to drive the bus to hell, don’t worry about my “drinking problem”, I just want to take a scenic detour every now and then. The road out of hell is a lonely one; I don’t plan to spend forever on it.
I saw Eight Below with my little brother…it featured EIGHT dogs…so you just know they’re not all going to make it. I cried when the dog whimpered in pain…I didn’t even bat an eyelash when Jack died in Titanic, I was just thinking…damn, that bitch killed him…but ooooh, the poor dog. Then I thought I need to either go get a fucking dog already or maybe I do need to get out a bit more.
I just starting reading The Moral Animal…but work seems to not quite be done. I found out we got bounced out of lot check tonight, no big surprise there. So back to work we go tomorrow.