Make yourself weird again

Destiny, kismet, karma, and chance.

“Everyone is weird,” a friend called to tell me over the phone. “I’m not complaining, just stating a fact.” 

I was driving down Sunset Boulevard, heading from east to west. It was about 6pm and the sun was low overhead, casting its glow across every bend. I’d been cruising along, lost in my thoughts—thinking about how the name of the street really makes …