San Diego = what you get when you drop your waffle on the beach.

It was a five hour drive, but a great trip. I got back a few days ago, but have been in recovery ever since. In fact, the only reason I’m really writing about this now it because I’m still feeling faded from dollar bowling/dollar drinks over at South Point earlier this morning. And since I’m halfway gone, you can only expect a half-assed report of my hotmess weekend!

In San Diego, I:

- realized what a beautiful city that place is.
- saw a hummingbird while walking around Little Italy
- learned that if you dance by yourself in the middle of an empty dance floor, the staff will decide that you’re too drunk and escort you out of the venue, while your friends are all still inside, wondering what the hell happened to you (that was fun)
- learned that a good percentage of those rickshaw taxi bicyclists are from Brazil (I rode one!)
- ate nothing but hash browns the entire trip. God damn I was so happy to eat rice again when I got home.

All in all it was an awesome trip, and I met some awesome people. Thanks, guys!

And now, some pictures (thanks for the photos, Kim and Caryn):

Me and Caryn before all the madness happened (ie: we were still sober)

We’re all completely hung over here, but this was the morning after, over at the House of Blues for breakfast.

I don’t even remember this picture … but Happy Birthday, Kim!

Again, Happy Birthday, Kim! It was awesome… and a true testament to you that I drove down from Vegas, Caryn flew from Alabama, and Kristina came from Washington, all for you!