Missing Home

it is december the 23rd and i miss the land of my birth. i was not born in a humble stable, but rather in a sterile institution across the street from a food-4-less. i was not born to a carpenter and virgin-- but to a manic woman who is really good at crafts, and an insurance salesman who loves the history channel, white wine and the occasional coors light. not one deity (unless you count ceasar chavez) has ever set foot in the land of my birth. but to me, christmas begins and ends in bakersfield, california. i miss the fog, the anxiety over freezing crops on the local news, driving through haggin oaks ooohing and ahhing over lighted homes acquired to assholes thanks to the abundance of petroleum and made easier through the miracle of cheap labor by means of exploitation.

oh bakersfield, you golden empire, you salad bowl of america, you steaming pile of ignorant manure-- bring me home! i promise to be good this time. i'll eat tri-tip and air brush the back of my car with a scene depicting playful black stallions with a caption that reads "horsin' around". i just want to come home. it's too warm in los angeles. the visibility is too high. not one person on my street has built a snowman out of tumbleweeds.

tomorrow morning is the day we go to arizona. to arizona and to all the bad, awkward parts of christmas. arizona is a land where things think they begin, but really they just come to a sloppy, pokey end. to cope, i will be eating whole gangs of chocolate and watching as much vh1 as possible. stay tuned for updates....