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August 22, 2003

I'm A Million Miles from No-where

time don't matter to me.

Mesh and I made it to his 'rents house. To get there, drive to the middle of no-where, then go about 50 miles past that, and you'll be in south-central Florida where Mesh lives.

I feel like I'm in the middle kingdom. This odd place-between-places that survives becaus usual economic rules of competative survival of the fittest do not exist, and therfore fail to thin the herd. Like some type of business heart-lung machine, tourism enables businesses to survive that traditionally would have only lasted a season, or would have never existed to begin with.

Mesh and I have what I believe to be a fairly hilarious road journal from our 11 hours trip down here. I'll put it up later 2nite after we get back from seeing the new Costner flick "Open Range" at the Disney Uber-Plex.

OK, everyone who I'm not married to stop reading from this point forward: it's for my wife's eyes only.

I love you. And I miss you. I tried callin' the barn & the house, and you weren't there. I'll give you a ring later 2nite. Sleeping solo sucks. Mesh is a sad substitute, so I kicked him out.