Last week I went to Lexington. My mexican grandma turned 78.

She wanted to go to the races and this is what I saw there:


Then I came home and went to school.

And on Sunday I will play Risk!

The End.

Life without second chances is worthless.

I got into two car wrecks this weekend, one saturday morning and one sunday morning. Neither were Ash's fault (she was driving both times). We're both okay. Her car is totaled. My car didn't even have a scratch.

I saw Bruce Meizlish. He told me to go be young. I'm glad what i'm doing makes sense to somebody else.

Friday night I started training at the Red Pepper as a waiter, which is never going to work out, but I met all the cooks. They are Mexican (with one Honduran). The oldest is Mario and he is 54. The youngest is Berlin who is 15 (his uncle, with whom he came, is named Moscow). They fed me and gave me beer after the shift saying "We are comrades and must stick together. We're all crazy vatos." I brought Ash their apartment. We spent the night drinking and singing. They haven't had a chance to talk to a woman in a while, or anyone outside of their little group. The spanish you learn in school is so useless. It is a completely different language from the bar-room lingo that gets slung around. This is a neglected part of my education.

I miss my sister.