Wednesday, September 10, 2008

if life imitates art, then zac braff is my screenwriter

last night i drove back to my home town after a mediocre day at a job i could care less for. on the way out of town i did hear the new metallica track, which aside from james hetfield's contributions, was pretty bad ass. i arrived in pearland to my friends sleeping on the couch waiting for my arrival. there was no fanfare. just a movie about a tortured soul swimming across the english channel, jeremy's rhythmic snoring and a strange sense of deja vu in the air.

i hadn't slept that good since the last time i was on their couch 4 or 5 years ago. i may hate this town, but it will always be home.

i told everyone that reason i came back home was to see my dentist of 20 years. this is true, but i could have just as easily found one in austin. i came back to inquire on my friends' state of affairs, as i feel like i've abandonded them as of late. (spending a year in exile in las vegas is mostly to blame for this.) as it turns out, they're all still the same without me. then i realized i should probably stop making this out to be some sort of existential journey, as garden state has already been ripped off once. (see adam brody in "the land of women".)

no, this is not me coming to terms with the town that defines me anymore. this is me visiting old friends, drinking by my parents pool, and getting my teeth cleaned. austin is home now, i'm young, singled and employed there. brazoria county is just a place where hurricanes come to play and where the fellows and i can be found at ihop at 3 in the morning.

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