I went to Popscene for the first time in a long time. I went and I danced, and I didn't drink, and I had so much fun, even though Doug flaked, Apphia quasi-flaked, Scott was busy, etc. I had the most fun out that I've had since I went naked hottubbing a while ago. I saw Chad, and I couldn't remember his name. My brother came, and I had fun with him, and we danced together, and I encouraged him to go dance with cute girls. I saw guys and didn't feel inclined to chase them. Scotty means too much for that. I saw my brother's ex-girlfriend and we talked and danced and she definitely dances WAY better than I do. And it rocked. And then at 2:30 am, on my way home, I was about 10 miles from home, and I got a speeding ticket. I was going 74 in a 50 mph zone, so basically I am gonna have one fucking huge fine. I'm going to fight it, I'd go into details about why I shouldn't get that big a fine and punishment, but I don't really care about bitching about it. I'll try and see how it goes.

I also popped the idea to my parents to go to NYC this summer to look for an apartment to rent. This instead of living in dorm room on campus. I hate dorms, and I don't want to if I don't have to.

More shit: Scotty got a fuckin' queen size bed in his room! Rock. I can sleep on campus now! I am very happy about this.

I may apply to art school for next year. We shall see.

Speaking of photo, Steele is sick. My camera needed to get some repairs, so we are seperated for at least three weeks. He is jammed, and jammed badly so he needed to get a check-up and visit a doctor/repairman in L.A. so he can get well again. I miss him. I am going to treat him well when he gets better. I am buying a new (used) waist-level viewfinder for him that matches his body. And I am trying to find a nice Acute Matte D focusing screen with architectural grid for him. And I'm going to rent him a nice fisheye, and a nice lightmeter, and maybe even a metered viewfinder! We'll see how broke I am when he gets better, but I really am going to take care of him. And I'm really glad he is insured, because these repairs and check-ups are going to cost about $600. Thank god for State Farm Insurance and no deductibles.

So today, I had an interesting interaction. I'm at work, lugging some shit between stores, and this guy looks familiar. Wait, let me start at the beginning. I see this guy talking to a girl. And immediately I know, or at least I think, he is on dope. He is scratching himself too much was the thing that made me notice him. I said, wow, I bet he's on dope. Then when I pass by him and the girl he's talking to, I hear him say, "Yeah, bleach kills HIV but it doesn't kill everything, so watch out." And I knew. Then as I walk by he says, "Hey you, what's your name?" And I told him, and he's all, "yeah, I'm Josh, we were in the Camp together a few years ago." He recognized me after three years, from that first rehab I was in. And I remember him. He was so nice, and we had the same bracelet and we talked and smoked a lot. And now I run into him, and he's all smacked out, and he's asking me if I could help him out and by some doses off him, or some pot, or some other shit, or get some really good dope or coke from one of his friends. I told him about my OD, and about how I don't do shit anymore, and he said he's ODed seven times. And he's strung out, but he doesn't use needles anymore. It was wierd. Definitely very alien baby. I wished him good luck, and turned down a lot of cheap high quality drugs. I didn't even think about it till afterwards. I'm proud of myself, and sad at the same time. It hurts to see him like that. At least he has a job fixing motors or some shit on the night shift. But still, it's rough out there. It really hasn't been that long. But sometimes it seems so alien, removed. And sometimes it seems really fucking close to home.

I'm moving to London in a year and a half. I am planning for the future, and I really am going to move. The only thing I have a hard time leaving is human bonds I have made. But those won't die, only get stretched by a few thousand miles. And who knows, a lot of people will be there when I do it. I want to get out of the country forever, and there's really very little stopping me. That's not to say that the people in my life don't matter. I just hate this place (country? city? world?). I love the people I have chosen to trust. That's all. And I am convinced that they trust me.