In Texas my group of friends and I roller skated (like, old school quads) between bars on Fridays, and I honestly miss it. Seattle is too hilly and pothole-y. I do miss Texas-style kolaches: they're delicious in a have-a-heart-attack southern kind of way.
I'm a time-starved musician. I got a bass for my 13th brithday and never looked back; I was lucky enough to go to a high school that had "classical guitar" and "jazz quartet" as electives instead of "home ec" and "typing" which cemented playing music as a passion for me.
Junior year of high school a small single-employee record shop opened up. The guy who worked there was like the wise old sage of indie records (despite being not-old). We built a rapport over time; I would go every week, tell him what I was listening to at the time, what I liked, what I didn't want to hear. He would go "hmmm..." and stroke his giant indie beard and, after a few moments, pull one CD out of the rows and rows that lined to store. He'd put it in his 5-disk changer behind the counter, skip a handful of tracks, and then we'd listen to the song he picked. And it was amazing. Every. Single. Time. He gave me an appreciation for music I never thought I'd like, and taught me the satisfaction of discovering a new favorite band.