Today was the day. Today I got to go to the Musicians Institute campus with three of my friends for an open house. For those not in the know, MI is a school in Los Angeles that teaches music in a career oriented fashion: Guitar, bass, vocals, keyboards, drums, music business, music film, guitar craft, recording ... it has it all. I have been wanting to attend the school, but I have been working for the last year's worth of open houses (sad face goes here). We left at 9:30 this morning. Two hours and several tranny-hooker spottings later, we were there. I went to the guitar craft portion of the open house where I learned about the course (guitar making, repair, etc). During portions we got to hear live music, eat pizza, and complain about the fucking heat. Holy fuck, it was a scortcher.

So, on the way up, my friend J drove my other friend C's car for two reasons: 1. J's car is in shitty shape 2. J knows exactly how to get there. On the way back, however, C drove his own car. C is a bad driver. How bad you ask? Well, as soon as we get on the freeway he comes within inches of rear-ending a semi. This happens several times during the drive. Accelerate, stop, repeat. Not your usual traffic pace either, this was enough to shift you balls the wrong way. Eventually I start to notice something wrong with the car, something just didn't feel right. Before long, something was obviously wrong. Ah shit, the transmission. All this bullshit driving fucked the transishion. I tell C to pull over. Yeah, I needed to tell him, he's like that. So we pull over about 50 miles from home. We sit there in the car as the car sits on the shoulder, and C sits on his hands. "Pop the hood" I tell him, wanting to fix this and get home so I can get fucked up. I take a gander for a minute and tell J to whip out the AAA. An hour later we get a tow a few exits to a gas station where C buys some oil (it was frighteningly low). At that point J checks the tranny fluid (lol tranny). It's BONE FUCKING DRY. C didn't even seem to understand the concept, but he was sure as shit bummed out. We make him walk to a Kragen and buy more. We put it in and it leaks a little out the bottom, sad face, but it might run long enough to get home. Nope. The leak is bigger than our hearts and we stop again. This time I have guy no.3, T, go for the AAA. He has a "plus" card, which means that we could get towed up to 100 miles. YAY.

By the time the second truck showed up it had been about 4 hours since the breakdown. So the four of us, or five rather, including the driver, climg into this 2 1/2 person cab. We drive a few miles and wait around another 45 minutes while he changes to a bigger truck. Now we were on out way home. FINALLY. We make a quick gas station stop and the driver offers to buy us all sodas. I refused due to my giving up of all things soda, the others refused out of some sort of guilt. 2 of us eventually caved. I wasn't one of them (hooray 4 mees). Then he asked if we would let him smoke. I gladly said yes, just before asking if I could bum one. (If I'm giving up soda, I'm taking smoking back up damnit.) This was the greatest cigerette in the history of cigarettes soley because it was the only one I ever truly needed. Not felt like or wanted, but needed.

A short while later we ended up back at my friend's house where I downed a bunch of wine and got a ride home. It wasn't long after that before I felt like sharing my stupid go-nowhere story with this journal, which you apparently just read like a faggot. You eats poopies. Hare Krishna.