I thought to myself on the way down I-95 this evening; it really is a travesty to be dissed, sober and alone on 4/20.
I had hoped by the time I wrote this, I could say "But at least I'm not sober." Fortunately or unfortunately, that never happened. But on the way back up, I was thinking; well damn, at least I've got some damn good friends and I wasn't busted on CDS today.
This 420 started off on a great note. I taught myself how to parse XML under PHP, and wrote a decent node on PHP parser code for the nodelist XML so that everyone else can benefit from my labors.
As midnight broke over the EDT zone, I agonized over whether 4/20 could be a sort of amnesty day, where I could forget about my sins for a few hours and indulge myself in spite of my promise to abstain from such things for a while. After much considering, and conversation with friends, I came to my decision and . . .
Well, that's a secret. Does it really matter? (Nosy...)
Dawn broke, and let me tell you: any day where I get to drive 60 miles with the sunroof open and the windows down for every single one of them definately rates at the top of my list. I'm hoping that 360 miles next weekend will be just as good.
Spent the day creating and tidying up a bunch of Intranet applications, just like I do every day, sent a big batch of e-mails to remind some crazy people about next weekend, and went home to shower up and have my first F2F meeting with a local girl I met a few weeks ago by e-mail.
On the way back home, I got a chance to have an American Beauty moment at 40 miles per hour as a silver birthday baloon raised over the sound wall, hovered about 30 feet over the pavement and danced across the Beltway in front of me. Sometimes it's the little things that cheer me up.
But, as they say, "And then I got . . . dissed."
I'm out on the porch with the laptop ready to leave whenever she tells me she's ready, when suddenly, something comes up. Again. Will you hate me? No, I said, I'm just going to think that you're stringing me along. She logs off. While discussing my bad fortune online, my good friend invites me over for a few beers.
Once I got there we realized we had to go to the Home Despot to prepare, so by the end of the evening, with the liquor stores closed and the supermarkets still open, they wound up being Root Beers. Ah well, that's the sort of lovely irony that 4/20 provides.
The evil irony on the other hand, is handling the fact that someone you know got busted for the first time ever today. And so young too. I can only hope and pray that things turn around for him, because I'm powerless to do anything else.
Right before I went to sleep, I stumbed onto the sinnocence webcam site, where the author wrote today:
"It is 4/20... and if you are a retarded jackass. YOU CARE."
Yeah.