Four pages into a chapter about my trip to Vladivostok, and I haven't even made it there yet. How could I have forgotten about the weird detour that trip took to Los Angeles, my very first (and possibly most horrible) bad Internet date, the OJ Bronco chase, and the nekkid guy in the convertible on Sunset Boulevard?
Memories, memories... so many weird ones, so little time...
The sun is setting, and I need to grab some groceries and go home. Housecleaning awaits me.
Oh, the excitement of my life. It's almost too much, eh?