On Saturday, April 19th, I celebrated Devon's birthday; he threw a big birthday party for himself, even renting a stretch hummer limo. I had a good time dyeing my hair red and working toward the worse of the few hangovers of my life. After a disappointing dinner at the Red Foxx (I paid $35 for 4 jumbo shrips and tomato slices since we divided the bill evenly...if I had known we were going to do that I would have ordered of the cape cod shots they called a cocktail), eighteen other faggots and I pranced around all the San Diego bars adorned in red, black, and pink accessories. With my dyed hair, pink boa, prescription sunglasses and pink cocktail napkin sticking out my pocket, I was having a better-than-okay time. There was a guy named Aaron that everyone was lusting after; he looks like Ed Burns-as-mechanic, tattoos, cigarettes and all. He seems like a sweet guy; I need to work out LOL. Devon slapped me around a bit at the Loft when I said I was going to walk home from there; I only lived around the block. I don't think he will remember when I see him. I have to send him a thank you card.

Saturday was also my 4-year anniversary of moving back to San Diego. This day also marked the 1995 Oklahoma City Bombings and 1999 Columbine shootings. Happy Birthday, Devonia.