agave is the devil

Tequilla turned what looked to be a lonesome, boring Wednesday night into ...well, what it is now, but that's what tequilla does. My roommate came back from Tempe, AZ, where he will be attending an MFA program with a full-ride scholarship, and me, he and his girl did a good deal of celebrating. Now, there's nothing left to do but eat bread, drink water and make a dent in this stack of porn that he handed over to me in a drunken stupor. "I've got the Internet," he said as he offered the DVDs. "You take these."

In my tequilla-ridden mind, I felt strangely honored.

He almost convinced me to move to Arizona. Maybe I will. I've always been drawn to the desert, even though the idea of checking my shoes and sheets for scorpions is rather irksome. And the heat...I don't get along with the sun. Maybe it's because I spend at least one morning a week completely hung over--whatever. Nevermind that I've never spent more than a few hours in a desert. A change of scenery might be nice, though.