Last night at approximately 10:27, Pacific Standard Time, Dickie Sr. and I, frazzled and bloodshot after four days on the road across swamp, plains, mountains of the rocky persuasion, mesas, plateaus, canyons, and general nothingness, sped along the 10 freeway and finally crossed the God's Country county line.

Two months ago, I landed at LAX for the weekend and felt ambushed by the rough realities of change.

Last night, despite our harried state, Dickie Sr. and I rode into the city limits like conquistadors on horseback. It's good to be back, if even for just an instant.

And besides Dickie Sr.'s general disaste with the music selection, and my postal death threats directed at surrounding drivers when we hit bumper to bumper traffic at 10pm in Baldwin effing Park after 16 hours on the road...the trip went off without a hitch.

For the second time in three days, I found myself consumed by the ancient Chinese art of Unpacking-Packing: Unloading the truck while re-packing for an extended leave out of the country. Tomorrow I have several thousand things to take care of, which leaves me little time to fondly look back on the last year of "school" and ask...did this really happen?

And more importantly: Was it worth it?

This might sound strange...and possibly inappropriate...but in moments of doubt the horrors of Katrina - floating bloated bodies, homes and possessions lost, families thrown into turmoil - have served to help justify the decision. You just gotta go for it because shit, man, you never know.

Unless you're ridiculously lucky life's gonna throw at least one or two catastrophic curveballs your way before you pass on. I guess I'm in a very existential live-life-to-the-fullest state of mind, you know? It's weird, but watching the extensive devastation makes me feel ok that I don't own a single piece of furniture - don't have an apartment...don't know where I'm gonna land four months from now.

I don't know if that thought's good or bad - insightful or just my usual dumbness - it just is. These disasters remind what's truly important.

So, in the spirit of tight bonds during uncertain times, here's yet another retarded slideshow presentation for all my J-schoolers out there, the latest batch courtesy of Smash and Sara the Dodger-hater. We all made some big sacrifices this year, and I think we came out better for it.

(Then again, what the fuck do I know - I'm a ducha vaginal...) See y'all in Paris.




Cheers - to a job well-done. ...Sort of well-done.




The summer crew.




I call this "Still Life with Frosty: Dazed and Confused."




No story gets by your intrepid Seattle Times correspondent. This I promise you.




RND, Sara the Dodger-hater, Gizibel and ToriKatzClassRep: The Fearsome Foursome




Here we are celebrating Nery's victory over Mr. Dream on the old NES Punch-Out!(TM) He's even sporting the Don King cigar.




Not all at once, ladies...




Fisk 306 represent.




Look kids: This is what the cool kids do at parties...




El Matador, going Mozart on the Truman Piano at the Press Club...and demonstrating why it's a good idea to prevent people not born in the United States from running for president.




The Distinguished Representative from Connecticut posing with one of her constituents, both engaged in a fierce battle for dimple supremacy.




Hole, trying to get the right shot in the right light for Frosty's debut adult film performance.




She may be a Dodger-hater - cold and unfeeling (don't let the bright smile fool you) - but you gotta love Sara the Dodger-hater anyways.




They'll always have Dewey Beach...




Speaking of Dewey...




RND, who needs a hug and a shoulder to cry on in anticipation of Notre Dame's crushing loss to Michigan.


That's all for now - safe travels to everyone. As my famous relative would say on CNN, "Out!"