As some of you may be aware, Grismath is currently making a tour in the State of California. Well he is making a stopover here in Southern California. So we decided it would be grand to make an acquaintence. And there begins a day of beaches, traffic, and misdirection.

Our day begins out when we meet in Irvine, CA. It's in Orange County (da O.C. yo!). We meet at a 50s styled diner and get lunch. All seems grand. We roamed around. Stopped by Barnes & Noble. Generally piddled about. Bored of that we decided to take a sojourn to Laguna Beach where it was a lot cooler. It was also filled with eye candy...if you catch drift. Anyway, we piddled about there some. All was good. Now here's the fun part.

Mr. Grismath was basically stuck in Irvine. His aunt would drive down from Northridge (north side of L.A.) to pick him up. And the only transportation available was not until 6 or so PM. So we are trying to find SOMETHING to do. I do not know Irvine at all and he knows it even less. But lo! there is an acquaintence he knows who happens to be in Irvine Tustin. I might add she was definitely a looker. Anyway the problem, we have no idea where she's residing. Problem. Tustin is a vast expanse of urban sprawl. Our search could take us weeks. Grismath called the lass for directions to her place. Well, she didn't exactly do that succinctly. We ended up on all sides of Tustin. East, West, North and South. I swear we aimlessly wandered about the city for the better part of an hour. It wasn't until that he called said friend up and she had to find us via mapquest. So we made sure that she guided us properly. Finally we arrived at this friend's place. But all we went there for was to look up directions to the train station in Irvine. Which, get this, was not more than two blocks away from where our day originally started.

Anyway onto some imagery (click for larger)

The denizens play in Laguna Beach.


I tried to sneak capture of image of Grismath. I failed.


Don't we look niiiiiice! I can't take pictures well for the life of me.


Grismath decided to get me in a rather photogenic position.


Grismath marked his territory in Laguna Beach. His scent travels wide.


And here he is being...him.

Did he do the fifth one with his penis?

way to forget when you called me and told me to ban everyone on the forums!

I did no such thing!

Gris must have strong piss to write his name in sand!

Did you feel weak in character compared to that stud? Seriously, the women must have been trampling you to get to him!

JG needs to get a new shirt

also he needs to lose the ear piece

I'm waiting for the stories about ou two cruisin' to pick up chicks now.

If I didn't have to work tomorrow morning, we would be doing that very activity.

Kirby: No I didn't.

Good aim, too. Notice how the letters are ALMOST perfectly round/straight/what have you.

Aw, you spent the day together on the town and at the beach! How cute.

Oh, and wow, JG, your goatee really came in, that looks badass. Your hair makes you look evil. You might go for something younger looking and not slicked back unless you want to be single for the rest of your life. But then you don't have much to work with...

...I cracked a gay joke then I end up giving style recommendations.

Heh, cool.

you bastards, I LIVE 10 MILES FROM ALL OF THERE...

I worked at the irvine spectrum (Where you guys hung out all day) for 2 years, also went to school in Irvine for the following 2 years.

INVITE ME NEXT TIME!

Sweet stuff, one thing:

THOSE HANDSFREE THINGS MAKE PEOPLE LOOK LIKE SPANNERS.

Looks like fun! Daaaaaaaaamn now I really want to go to California. I've always wanted to go there.

Cool! I miss the beach...

I actually recommended to Grismath that he contact you for a place to crash.

JediGandalf is a CYBORG

Seems like you fellas' had a good ole' time throughout the day, although most of it was roaming and looking for something to do.

I just get more satisfaction out of stalking Massassians and appearing out of nowhere from the shadows.

fixd

haha aww looks like a good time was had by all..*bummed that i've never been to cali*

Funky, I was in Irvine less than a week ago. Was the restaraunt you went to called Ruby's Diner, 'cause I went to Ruby's before proceeding to an adjacent Barnes & Nobles when I was there.

Heh, that'd be creepy. :T

There's Ruby's, and there's also Jonny rocket's. both 50's style.

We went to the latter.

What I was going to say.

JG lacks EYEBALLS.

He never knew.

SO WHENS GRIS VISITING MINNESOTA, HUH?

Sorry, Hell hath not yet frozen over.

Now for the Other Side of the Story:

STARDATE: 7.23.06

Grismath is awake, but he can't get out of bed. All attempts have proven ineffective. He clearly has not yet adjusted to the rigid mattress, even more rigid than the one that had tortured his back only days before at UC Berkeley. His gaze wanders around the room, moved by his eyes only, his neck being also too stiff from overstuffed pillows.


"JASHAAAAAA" wuh? am I dreaming? "JASHAAAA" the call lilts to me once again and jars me out of any false perceptions of sleep. "Are you awake??" I am now. I respond and drag my sorry form out of bed. Gazing vainly upon myself in the wall-to-wall mirrors that add an Alice-in-Wonderland-esque second dimension to my bedroom and invite vain gazes, I head to the bathroom.

I cooly regarded the natural medicine curatives and drugstore's worth of bathroom supplies my aunts had left in the kitchen and took a shower. I wander around the mansion a bit and then head out.


Two hours spent shivering in my aunt's Benz with the a/c turned to the max through LA traffic later, I slammed the door shut without so much as a look back and strode into the Irvine Spectrum on my own at last. I called "Brandalf" to tell him I'd arrived and found Johnny Rocket's well enough. Walking in and to the back, I saw the man himself seated in a booth, saying something to the effect of, "I would have a computer, wouldn't I" regarding his laptop.

I took a seat and ordered a milkshake from the annoyingly friendly waitress and made some conversation. Food came and went. We then toured about the shopping area, stopping at eb games and Barnes & Noble to read up on "Weird California." Who knew that aliens invaded LA after Pearl Harbor and three-eyed aliens inhabit Mount Shasta?

On a whim, we decided to head for the beach. JG immediately knew which direction to head as, unlike most men, he claims to have a decent sense of direction and delivers! I looked at the sun which was overhead and couldn't make much sense of the situation until he pointed to a N-S highway... I mean FREEway and explained how he'd figured things out. This would not be the first time his navigational prowess would come in handy.

At Laguna Beach, we strolled around and took some pictures. At one point, feeling some deep, tribal impulse, JG took off in a sprint across the beach, after releasing a genuine battle cry. Afterwards, we went to Starbucks to drink $1.80 bottled water and relax... until I received a long call about how the hell I was going to get back to Northridge. It turned out I'd have to catch a 7:39 train if I wanted any hope of returning, eliminating the other plans I'd made for the evening.

On the way back towards the heart of the OC, my friend Jenn and I called back and forth about plans. We decided to get some dinner later, and then she called asking if I'd like to crash with her for the night ...YES. But alas, it was not to be. Since we didn't have that good of an idea where we were and I had a few hours to kill before my train, I suggested we at least go meet up with Jenn and use her computer to map out rhe rest of our journey.

Unfortunatley, Jenn was staying with friends and had absolutely no idea where she was. This, in conjunction with terrible traffic conditions, led JG and I to get terribly lost. Looking at a map right in front of her, she directed us to take a turn left onto "I'm not sure if the street's called Hampshire or Amherst..." without knowing which direction we were going on the intersecting street. We couldn't find said street, so we ended up "grid searching," as JG put it, several communities, most of which were gated.

Next thing we knew, we were on a freeway heading out past some HUGE monolithic structure surrounded by vast expanses of open space. From the first few glimpses, it looked like a giant Greek temple, and I knew we were truly and desperately lost. I called Jenn once again and she stayed on the line this time until we finally got to her friends' house.

JG and I said our hellos, I hit the bathroom, while JG made himself at home on her computer and told her that he and I had met.... online d'oh! ;]

I came out and consulted the train schedule and we left only minutes after we'd arrived. I told her to call me about tomorrow, and though she said she would, she gave me that concerned look that meant she in fact would not, and did not.

At the station, once JG left, I realized I had neglected dinner. So began my on-foot journey through Orange County in search of food. Of course, in a land wherein everyone drives Porsches and BMWs, pedestrian accomodations are merely there for show. I walked across broad avenues and past lots of offices until I found a lodge with, wonder of wonders, a Starbucks. This was also adjoined to a Quizno's and I made my order one minute before the store closed.

I took my meal back to the station and bought a ticket for the 7:39 Amtrak train to LA. By 7:39, I was so bored I was watching grassland hares and squirrels roaming about the plains by some burnt out casino when a train came through the station, paused for a moment, and departed. Was that it? Had I just missed my only ticket out of this place?

I looked around at some haggard and desparate looking men who gazed off into the distance, entranced. I'm falling into the rut that I would rather be killed than break the elaborate social webs that come between disturbing someone else's personal zone, but after a few minutes of panicking, I went down to track 1 looking for answers.

I was about to ask a cyclist whether the LA Amtrak train had just passed through.... but he had earbuds in him that said "don't bother me." The same was true with the next person I encountered. By the time I caught this punk girl's eye, I saw a blinding light on the horizon of the tracks and figured I'd wait it out.

When the train arrived, I hopped on board with little regard for anyone else exiting. The last person had come down the stairs, I'd thought, but once I'd started up, another lady came down, and as I squeezed to the side to allow her space, she said, "My God! Can't you just WAIT a moment?" "Nope." I said and continued up.

I took a seat by myself and looked out the window for awhile. The ticket checker was very congenial and gave me simple directions to the bus terminal at LA Union Station which I didn't understand. The plan was, I had bought tickets to get to LA by rail, and then I'd go to Glendale with the bus transfer ticket I had also gotten.

In Union Station, I hurried into the hall and followed arrows directing me to something like "Grand Central." I followed another harried-looking commuter up and out into the cool night air. Two employees gave her directions to the buses and I was about to follow, but I just wanted to make sure.

"Did you just direct her to the bus that's heading for Glendale?"

"GLENDALE?"

"Yes, I have the ticket right here..."

"Now just you wait a minute... Glendale... no, I don' think any buses are going to Glendale. What you'll have to do is go down and buy a ticket to get there by rail... but I don't think there are any more trains to GLENDALE at this hour of the night."

"But I have this bus ticket right here... the bus is supposed to be leaving right now... I've checked several schedules and they've all directed me to take the bus transfer right now to Glendale."

"Hold on a minute, let me think..." and this other lady employee looks at my tickets and says that if I think I have to rush, I might as well rush, but instead of sending me to the buses like they sent the other woman, they send me back into the station and around.

At this point, I'm very confused, so I sprint down the tunnel, running faster than one of those elderly-person carts and into the front area of the station. I come out and stop a security guard and ask him where I can get to the buses.

"Hmm... ... ... yes, go out, and see, take a right and go allll the way down and take another right and you'll come around to the buses."

Precious moments wasted, I hurry out and follow his directions. I guess I'd missed the fountain. I go around, blitz past another guard who I'm sure will prove similarly unhelpful and find the bus terminal with only one bus. Emblazoned on its side in red, white, and blue is U.S. Coach. ...this sure doesn't *look* like a transfer bus...

I go up to the driver, who's filling out some forms, and am about to say "this probably isn't my bus, but I-" when he tears my ticket without looking it, asks if I came around the wrong way, and beckons me onboard. ooook. Everyone there seems friendly enough, but, looking at the TVs on the roof and the general mood of the bus, I'm afraid that I've stumbled onto some tour bus to Tijuana.

"First stop, Glendale!" dispells these concerns, and I'm there in no time. I disembark and find my other aunt waiting for me alone at the station. I get into her car (which reeks) and she takes me back to her apartment in the slums of LA. She's kind of embarrassed of her place, and when she opens the door, I can see why. Clothes are strewn all around the main room and everything is in complete disarray. I see leftover food rotting on her stove, neglected, which she quickly cleans up while she looks around to turn on a few lamps. All her furniture has been taken by other relatives because she apparently "doesn't need it."

We leave, and I'm about to have her take me back to the palatial prison of my first aunt, when I decide, you know what, it's better to experience some new things. We get some breakfast food and gas and go back. She has to leave for work at 5:30 am, and since she only has one bed, she sleeps in the main room. I have trouble going to sleep with this terrible heat, but eventually pass out. The next morning, I awake, somewhat poorly rested, around 10 am, read a music magazine she has for some reason, put on the radio, and start CLEANING. I clean for a solid hour and a half until my other, more priveleged aunt appears early on the scene to find my shirtless with no a/c cleaning this wreck of an apartment with some "noise pollution" blasting from across the room. Once I clear out the main room, I try to vaccuum, but this relic clearly hasn't been used in a long time and begins to smoke. So I get down on all fours and vaccum with a hand-vac until I'm satisfied I've made some dent.

We leave, and my aunt suggests we visit "Grandma's." Ok, I guess. My grandmother is deceased, but I'm sure seeing a house of my youth will bring back some memories. "Is someone else living there, now?" "The grave, I mean." "...oh."

We go through grandiose white gates to the graveyard complex and past sprinklers on which one side shines green grass and on the other lies only wilted death. When we park outside the grave, my aunt goes and pays homage while I relive a nightmare I had when viewing the open casket that the body would reach out and smother me in an undead embrace. *shudder*

Anyway, I view the plaque on bended knee, and feel it appropriate to think out a prayer... "Bless us, O Lord, for these, Thy gifts, which we are about to..." oh snap, I'm saying grace for dinner!

That episode of necrocannibalism past, I say a proper prayer, water the flowers my aunt had left, and we drive off.

Hahaha