Rock, Roll, Climb, Drink, Repeat

The first trip of the year under my belt. In my pocket. Out in the trunk. Under foot. Up in a tree. It's a bird! It's a plane! It was a 6.5 hour drive across the desert. I is fast.

Kirsten, Patrick and I got shitty while wine tasting, had some swank Mexican food, and took obscene pictures at the bar across the street from her house in San Clemente. We were up at my crack and on the road, blazing through sleet and rain, wind and sand, uphill both ways to finally land safely in the arms of Tempe, AZ.

We descended upon Last Exit like homing pigeons. The gang was all there and the Kilt Lifter was quickly poured and consumed with fervor. Hugs and kisses, catching up and car bombs, laughing until we were on the floor. Happy hour was the musical stylings of half of Pants, which we usually call Shorts but that night dubbed Culottes. I even had the pleasure of hearing one of my favorite originals of theirs. "I'm so vain I probably think this song is about me..." Oh, wait. It is one of the songs about me. *sigh* It's a rough life I lead.

The next band up was some emo brothers who probably weren't bad. I mean, I didn't leave the bar, so they must have been OK, but I really wasn't paying much attention to them. And who was that hooded creature rocking the tambourine and feigning back-up vocals? Oh, that crafty Robin Wilson. Up to his old tricks again! I got to lay on the flirt with Devon, my favorite bartender and bar owner ever, and he gifted me some of his Love Nectar. Devon indulged me a few times that night and stole a big juicy kiss at the end of the evening.

Like the uber responsible person I am, we drank until 2am. There were some shenanigans on the car ride home and I believe I made out with Melody. She was the only person in the car I hadn't made out with, or so I thought. But Jodi was driving. She would get hers later...

Cancer walk? CANCER WALK?! Wake up, fuckers! It's 6 in the AM and time to get the FUCK up and walk up a GOTdamn mountain to kick cancer in the nads. I was wicked smaht and slept in my jog bra and shorts. Go Team. Up, awake, driving, AT the meeting place at 10 til 7. Dig on THAT. Alas, our team leader was not. And so, with heavy heart, and awesome team shirt design-less, we jumped on the bus to get to the mountain. It was a delirious and laughter riot filled trek as three of our clan decided to take a shortcut. Yep, a shortcut. They left the road and took off through the desert brush. We kept looking off into the foliage, searching for signs of life, or death, or carnage. I was hoping for carnage. We postulated their various fates, who might have beaten up whom, who would have turned back and headed for the hot dogs at base camp, who would appear with a gnawed off femur in his mouth. And three miles in, low and behold, there stood Faxman, voted least likely to survive the shortcut! And he was entertaining phone calls, no less. Rysham and Hobbit were half a mile ahead of us. Those dirty bastards. I still owe them all a punch to the testicals.

It felt like eons, but we made it to the top of the mountain! There was no cure for cancer waiting there for us, but there WAS a lot of Propel Fitness Water and pastries. Score. On the banners available to sign in dedication to whomever you might have walked for, Ryan wrote: "I cheated cancer". He so did.

We walked the half-mile back down the mountain to join the line to take the bus back down. Some crazy assholes actually walk BACK down. The bus is right here, man! Don't be a sucker! We gorged on sweet, sweet hot dogs back at base camp and then headed home for naptime. Yay, naptime!

The girls and I feasted on Ethiopian food for dinner. Now, I know that you're thinking. They have food? Oh, but they do. And it was some of the best food I have ever had. Ever. The lamb, spicy chicken, salad…I'm drooling. Crimminy, it was tasty deliciousness. We got our beer margarita pre-party on and then sauntered over to Last Exit for the big rock show. Shades of Day had rolled into town at 4 that morning. They made their obligatory trip to Guitar Center and spent the day lounging…I hear my couches are as comfortable as they ever were… before dining on sushi at Ra and tying some on, Irish style, at Rula Bula before hitting the venue.

I was greeted on the patio by half of my boys, Micah and Matt, and the delicious surprise of Robin, Matt's girlfriend. Brendan, Richard and Bruce were putting the finishing touches on the tuning and the drinking inside. We set up the swank merch table, refilled our cocktails, and set in to rock our ever lovin' faces off. And rock we did. I took a bazillion pictures, conveniently located in my pictures. It was a big crowd for an out of town band and the applause and cheering were thunderous. I absolutely loved seeing the crowd being won so completely over. We put a lot of hard work and love into that show and it paid off big time. Tramps & Thieves took the stage and killed like they always do. The Kilt Lifter kept flowing, shots were downed, cameras flashed, and madness not fit to print unfolded.

We stumbled back to Jodi and Mel's, grabbed guitars and had ourselves a good old fashioned sing along. Chapstick, a rolling pin, and plates substituted for drumsticks. Mr. Andy Jensen serenaded us with his acoustic "Kiss Me Deadly" Lita Ford cover. It rocked superhard balls. We drank the house out of booze around 5am and drifted off into drunken slumber. We all managed to be awake around lunchtime and pulled ourselves together for the mouthwatering grub of Four Peaks. The boys were wonderfully hung over and exhausted from an incredible night. And we weren't too shabby ourselves.

Jodi and I had appointments with an incredibly accurate psychic. I have always dabbled in the world of the new age and fancy myself an astrologer and tarot card reader, amongst other things. I had Mrs. Rita, of Gin Blossoms song fame, read my cards years ago, and a palm reader on Venice Beach read my palm one spring break in college, but a psychic I had never seen. She knew uncanny things about me she had no way of knowing…and her predictions are coming true. Dig on that. Oh, there are grand things in store, people. Grand things.

We watched some red carpet highlights of the Oscars and I was glad not to be in Hollywood trying to fight that traffic. Kirsten and I headed for the sunset and rolled back on into San Clemente late that night. I got the first hours of actual sleep from the weekend that night and the longest of the long showers in the morning. I moseyed on back up the coast and stopped in The Valley for some sushi and sights. It was one hell of a weekend. It felt so good to be back in my hood with my homies. You people are the light of my life. I was on fire being with you again. You make me laugh like no others. You're my heart and my home. And I'll see all you Betches sooner than you think.