After drinking wine and catching up with Holly Berry for four hours, I realize it's time for a SLObian update.
For one, Jerad and I have been together for a couple months, and it's awesome. When you find someone else who plays music as loud as you do, you'd best hang on to them.

On another note, the Spring Break that emerged with a shakey start is comming to a triumphant end, as Wednessday marked the afternoon in which I checked off one of my life goals. For one glorious moment, I was high in Splash Mountain's laughing place, at Disneyland.

This was, of course, thanks to Juan's superb baking skills, and the fact that he kept feeding me mysterious snickerdoodles all afternoon with my vicoden chaser. Splash Mountain had eluded us the year before with maitenance work, despite our artillary of pot brownies. But not this year-- that slightly out-dated, anamatronic, drug induced ride was mine.

Somehow I find the weeks adventures centered around edible destinations. I went to Founder's Hall to eat shrooms. We drove to Disneyland to munch on pot cookies. A side trip to Castroville brought me deep fried artichokes at the Giant Artichoke. Tomorrow, Linnea and I will embark on a spiritual pillgrimage to the Loleta Cheese Factory, a rugby girl's haven.
And Sunday, that damn Mexican Buffet will be open, so help me god, and I will eat the entire state of California out of Guacamole. That place has foiled us for the last time.