Currently sitting in D.C.'s Reagan airport, waiting on a delayed flight to the homeland while listening to some Satanicide and dodging the sketchy glances of a dude five seats down. I'm gonna be lazy and bullet point this list of things to write about while spending two car-less and sweltering weeks in the Nash. I'll spare you the entries from what I call "Angry Glovebox Journal" (things written in my actual journal late at night while waiting for people to vacate my parking lot so I could sleep in it -- might have to start a separate blog for that) and just hit the high points:
* last days of the internship. Why yes, I will be putting this sweet autographed book on my shelf, although I also wouldn't turn down your Grammy.
* NYC Sleepover with first college friend, who is there for a year mentoring program. Highlights include a giant apartment (even compared to real ones, not just the postage stamp size Manhattan variety), sage advice about the neighborhood ("You're little and white. Don't go any further south."), and hospitality, Bronx-style: "Good morning! I hope those gunshots didn't wake you up earlier." It was awesome -- I wanna move to the Bronx! Between Fordham and Kingsbridge and during the hours of daylight, that is.
* the ill-advised overnight drive from NY to VA -- oh my holy God, the drive. Eleven hours on the road, minus a brief sleep in, you guessed, a Walmart parking lot, and several stops on the hellish turnpike. Exhausting but fairly uneventful except for that part where I rear-ended a guy at a Jersey tollbooth. Can't have it all, I guess.
* sunrise over Philadelphia: the bridge was beautiful but what is all that stuff up in the air?
* sociological observations of the trip on I-95 south -- by Maryland, it was hella hot. By Virginia, everyone was hella friendly. Welcome baaaaaaaaacccckkkkk...
* sweet digs in Arlington. Maybe the price is worth it -- this room in the basement is bigger than any room I've ever had and I might not have to live off ramen anymore. Am I dreaming?
Now I'm going to transcribe the lyrics for Satanicide's "Jer-z Nights", so a) I can try transcribing something that's not recorded on a scratchy record 80+ years ago like I've been doing all summer, b) you can understand why this band (a Tragedy-esque tribute/mocker band of 80s hair metal) is so fantastic, and c) so if anyone googles the lyrics (which I don't think exist online yet), they'll hit my page. Because that's the kind of people I want reading my blog.
Jersey nights, Jersey lights
I wanna get into a Jersey fight
Oh nooooo
I'm going back to Jersey
Feathered hair, souped-up cars
And don't forget the Jersey local bars
Oh nooooo
I'm going back to Jersey
To be this cool oughta be a law
I've seen the world and traveled far
I already know there's a place for me
I'm going back to Jersey
Jersey nights, Jersey lights
acid-washed jeans so nice and tight
I'm going back to Jersey
"Hold on a second, fellas... listen up. Remember back in the day, getting pissface drunk and dropping some beer in my GTO? Cruising the high school parking lot... yeah. Well, it's good to know that times have not changed. Who's with me?"
Tailgate nights, party down the shore
when we run outta booze, we'll just steal some more
well, we're all going down to Atlantic City
because a man put the stop to the New York city
To be this cool oughta be a law
I've seen the world and traveled far
I already know there's a place for me
It starts with Jer and ends with Z
After that, it's more of the same for roughly seven minutes, complete with superfluous drum solos and screaming hordes of fans to simulate the arena rock experience. It's genius.
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