From a letter to Diane, August 5, 1997.
I’m reading a book of letters by Hunter S. Thompson, when he was about my age. Seems like a person I might have gotten along with. Interesting reading in any case.
I just got back from the beach, and from the Pizza Port — a place totally tacky and lacking entirely in class in comparison to the brewery that used to be there, but with better attendance despite horrible music played too loud.
I’ve been working weekends most of the time, either programming or writing documentation or just sitting playing video games because I’m so burned out with all this stuff. But the ocean was nice tonight and I enjoyed my beer and pizza. What more can I ask for?
I’ve also got a new CD that I like — punk covers of classic television theme songs. Particularly, the following keeps running through my head:
Just two good ol’ boys, Never meanin’ no harm; Beats all you ever saw, Been in trouble with the law, Since the day they were born…
Rather than writing journals every day, I guess I could just write letters all the time — but then they’d all be this worthless.