This Is The Post About My Trip To NYC

I really can't believe I didn't get a single picture of falafel or cheesecake while I was in New York. The food is absolutely the second-best thing about that city - the first-best being, of course, these people:

Sara. Many a-person has lost both life and limb after falling for her innocent act. Do not be fooled.

Laura. Beautiful and heartless, she surrounds herself with others of her kind.

Sarah. Eats people alive.

You guys, my friends are kind of terrifying.

I stayed with Sara in Washington Heights.

When she wasn't working or in class, this is pretty much what we were doing:

I also went to a meditation workshop,

and found the Playground of the Americas. Impressive, I know.

I'm a terrible tourist. But I had a GREAT time.

And then I came home, applied to massage therapy school and got accepted, so I'm moving to New York in less than two months. Back across the country. Again. I wonder if there are really states in the middle, or if that's just a myth...

This Post Is Not About My Trip To NYC

Hey! I have a blog!

Yeah. Are you going to do something about that?

What? You mean me?

That's Right, I Said [BLEEP], Oh You have GOT To Be Kidding Me

On Sunday I got to see the poet/musician, Bitch, play at a small house concert almost around the corner from me.

She was...indescribable. (And now watch me try to describe her anyway.)

Charming. Witty. Intelligent. Friendly. Charismatic. Interesting. And just SO MUCH FUN to watch. She played the keyboard, piano, violin, guitar, and ukulele during the show, as well as a strand of bells tied around her ankle. Her songs are poetry set to music; complex and thought-provoking, yet often also laugh-out-loud funny. She actually reminds me of Sondheim - you don't so much leave humming her tunes, but you feel simultaneously energized and exhausted from the emotional wringer you've just gone through. At least I did.

There aren't many decent videos of her on youtube, and anyway her incredible presence loses a lot in translation. But. Here's a thank you video she made for the people who helped get her next album off the ground.



You guys, I've done more cool stuff here in 6 months than in the entire 2.5 years I lived in Jersey.

Considerably After The Fact, But Before The Fiction

After I went to San Jose and drove back, with all the super safe pitcher-takin', my wee-est brother, Dave, came to visit.

That's his wee-ness in the middle, partially obscured by Spencer's need to be the center of attention at all times.


Dave has a pathological love of soft serve. He saw this sign and had a psychotic break from reality.


Turns out they actually have 49 flavors. His reality broke some more.


We went to a salmon festival, because for some strange and unknown reason a lot of people apparently like salmon, and these awesome musicians played what is possibly my favorite song ever. Adia makes a guest appearance in the bottom left corner.



Then we headed out to the beach to have a bonfire and the last s'mores of summer. The Last S'mores of Summer. That sounds like a GREAT movie.


We have not yet had the first s'mores of fall; we have not yet begun to eat!

Wee Dave sang a song he wrote himself, and I captured part of it for the generations of emo kids yet to come.



And then Spencer and Dave attempted Jack Johnson. Keep in mind this was a spur-of-the-moment-on-the-beach-with-Rebecca's-guitar-that-she-still-can't-play-but-it's-okay-because-she's-busy-eating-s'mores thing.



You should also know that the whole "break it down" thing is a joke. It's funny if you know Spencer's joking. Mostly just stupid if you think he's serious.

And then Dave went home to San Luis Obispo, where there are no clouds and no one has ever heard of the color green and everyone is sad.

In Which I Am Fodder For All Of You

When I'm texting sometimes I accidentally hit the call button, so I routinely send text messages that read something along the lines of: "Oops, I just accidentally called you."

So today I got this text:

"I just pretend accidentally called you, for fun."

This Is My Journalist Hat, It Looks Just Like My Invisible Hat

Because of the aforementioned existential crisis, and because of my EXTREMELY busy schedule of being unemployed and eating chocolate, my brain is currently incapable of thinking of blog posts.

So.

I am going to interview you. Because you are interesting, and I even like some of you. (SOME of you.)

If you want to be one of my interview minions, please leave a comment or email me or text me or send me a telepathic message (so far I have shown no psychic ability, but I'm expecting it to kick in any day now).

And give me some ideas of questions to ask.

Also, be aware that even if you don't tell me you want to be interviewed, I might ask you anyway. Feel totally free to say no if you don't care that I'll despise you forever.

Stay Tuned

My existential crisis about turning 30 crept up on me over the last month, and now it has apparently decided to camp out for a while. I thought maybe it was going to bypass me completely, but I guess it was just running late.

Regular programming will resume once I've kicked this bitch to the curb.

In the meantime, a math lesson: