“All journeys have secret destinations of which the traveler is unaware.”

If I call my best friend Steve in California and he doesn't answer, I leave a long, detailed message about what I'm eating, where I'm sitting, descriptions of the local flora and fauna, etc. Eventually, he will get around to returning my call only it will always be at the most inopportune moment for me to answer. Then I move on with my days forgetting that I still need to re-connect, living off the fact that I've one-sided-ly given him my scoop and one-sided-ly received his in the form of long-winded voicemails. I guess the trick is to call even when you can only devote 2 minutes; just get them in there instead of waiting until you've accumulated enough stories for a semi-cliched novella centered on the life of a 26-year-old professional amateur who is standing on the edge of a great precipice with her eyes closed just catching a breeze until action is imminent. I miss these pups:And the Ludlow boys are off to India today. I made them a little Point Break inspired mash-up:
I bought these a couple of weeks ago and now I'm like who let me trip so hard? They just stare at me from atop my dresser. Perhaps I can wear them in Coachella and get them straight destroyed. Yep, I'm going out to a 'music festival' to custom paint shoes for a buddy's company www.thepeoplesshoe.com.
I absolutely adore the desert. Soon to be blanketed with a pin-pocked sky for days and miles, see my mama, eat Mexican food, drink date shakes, go to hokie thrift stores, swim and swim and wake up in a pool of The Crystal Method's vomz....