Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, chocolate in one hand, wine in the other, body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming "WOO HOO what a ride!"
(stolen from a forward)
though it's been over a year, i still have "holy cow i'm leaving a voicemail " my area code is in california" moments. i don't think it'll ever go away. it's just weird that i actually live in california. whodathunkit?