As "Life is proportional to experience" happens to be a personal credo, I travel a lot, by plane, train, and motorcycle (as anything with two wheels is better than four, side note: stop texting while driving, as you're going to be the death of me. Side side note: someone already beat you to that, turns out a texter on 15th and San Bruno decided to run a stop sign. I got to thank them for that when I was pulling my helmet out of their windshield). As I broke no bones, my mother asked "so are you going to stop riding now"? Of which I responded, "no, now I'm just going to get a faster bike, because apparently I'm indestructible". She was unimpressed. I also love Yerba Mate.
I grew my hair out for two years for "locks for love". Then my friend tied the knot and wanted all his groomsmen and friends to have big beards for the wedding. Which of course means I didn't shave until after the wedding... one long year later. After the wedding I called up the same place I had donated my hair only to find out there sadly is no "beards for love".
I recently had a bet with a friend where the loser had to wear a pair of mittens out to the bar. I do not like this bet. One underestimates how difficult it is to order two beers, pay cash, and go to the bathroom when thick knit pink cotton is encapsulating your damn fingers.
Random musings about life in SF.
Presidents day. Woke up. Showered. Brushed the ole pearly whites. Listerined. Immediately became thirsty. Got dressed. Walked out side, noticed my jeep side mirror had been ripped off, and human poo right next to the door. Obviously my mirror ripped off as he held onto it while popping a squat.
Text responses to this quandary in order in which they were received
Johnny; "Welcome to SF".
Mom: "Honey be nice, next time a least put a toilet paper roll on your antenna"
Pops: "Boy, I'm trying to enjoy my retirement. You made me get up out of the garage. I think your mom is about to text you something crazy."
I put 5 dollars in a film canister, buried it in GG park, made a treasure map, soaked it in tea, burnt the edges, (you know the whole nine yards, after all it is the little details that, to use the nomenclature of our times "make it pop") and ended up giving it to the first kid on Haight street to ask for money. Turns out it was in front of the Goonies store. Made their day. So much in fact they want a map every time I see them now. Of which I respond "I'm not always hopped up on energy drinks with nothing to do on a Saturday afternoon"
Friend: "You're warm, lay next to me so I don't need a blanket".
Me: "I'm down...get it?"
Friend: "You're lucky you're warm and I'm cold."
Friend: "So, apparently a taradactyl hit my plane as it was landing....they decided to board us anyhow, and now we get to sit and wait for ????? hours (been 1 so far) to get the maintenence crew to approve my flight home. I'm going to miss Turkey day, boo!!!!"
Me:"Sounds more like a "terror"dactyl."
I totally called the wrong number (on Dec 6) and got an asian lady asking me what type of take out I wanted. At first I was like "what" but then was thinking, I'm hungry "I'll have me one order of Admiral Tso's chicken". Lady got all angry I didnt know he was a general, so I was all like "look I don't care what kind of man he was on the battlefield, I just know he was an amazing chef". Then miraculously they didn't deliver in my area. So. Lame.
On my way into the lab (Jan 31) I noticed a bunch of pizza boxes spilling forth from a trashcan so much so that they were actually pilling a few deep on the surrounding ground. I thought "man what kind of pizza party went on last night"? Then I look over and notice a squirrel on top of a slice of pizza, being picky, and eating just the toppings it wanted to. Now if you know me, you know I hate Stanford squirrels. Why? Because they are overweight from eating cookies and other said treats from the trashcan. They are also unafraid. So, I was like "yo squirrel that pizza is too big for you" and walked within 10 feet. He didn't move. So I took another step, then another, then about two more. When I was finally close enough to basically share the slice, the squirrel seemed to think, fine I'll move (probably didn't want to share his dumpster pizza, selfish bastard). He tried to pick up the slice of pizza, mind you it was bigger than him, and run... well walk slowly away. He dropped the pizza between a grate, rendering it impossible to retrieve. The little guy looked up at me as we heard the pizza tumbling into oblivion like "dude, why, you've cut down all my trees, now you won't even let me grub on some pizza" in such a sad face. I was like "shut up diabetes squirrel".
I am bodacious, piquant, and a la mode
tl;dr I saved a squirrel from diabetes.