I survived another weekend with my best pal up north, way up in the northern territories of, er, Marin, Point Reyes, whatever. The most western part of the US. Small towns usually bring big drama, and though [possibly because] we know most of the town [well i didn't three days ago, but do know, and they definately know me, I never consider myself the wierd one until I put myself into an environment like that] one day would pass and the next everyone would be chatting about the scene[s] we caused at the bar, THE bar, there is only one. It was all good. I am going back next weekend, "Western Weekend," some crazy excuse to wear cowboy shit and drink. Also an excuse to see that certain manly man. Next weekend I will be sure to wear sunscreen – I could be mistaken for wearing a red shirt with pretty white bracelets on my wrists.