growing up
I'm not known for my decorum, but sometimes I outdo myself. Last night, with eight friends over for enchiladas, I was talking about a cute hippie girl I met. One by one, the girls around the dinner table asked if I would be turned off to find out
drinking
I just read a Slate article proposing you take a drink everytime Martin Scorsese calls Hugo a "picture," and I'm sure Californians have plenty of other drinking games for calling out Hollywood smug during Tinseltown's biggest night. In what has now become the most
Ash
Chugging wine like a Steinbeck character all afternoon can slow you down the next day, so on the second day of our Napa trip yesterday we were all dragging a bit until lunch. We shuffled around Oxbow Market, then drove up the valley to see Castello di Amorosa. While a
Ash
I'm in Napa with St. Frances, Ash and Diego. It's been pouring since we left San Francisco and we stopped for In 'n Out in Petaluma, but we still made it to five wineries. And watched the Niners game at Silverado Brewery, with brews and
banality
Diego and I helped Catalina move yesterday. She's moving out of the dingy rent-controlled flat in Russian Hill she's lived in for four years, to a place in our neighborhood with a big living room and hardwood floors. No matter how neat you are, moving is
drinking
Laina suggested we all meet up for happy hour before heading to the Warriors Game on Friday. She works in finance downtown, so she suggested Sens in Embarcadero 4, near the BART station. They were sitting in the back, on the covered patio, and I made my way through the
living in SF
I struck up a conversating with a girl in the cafe today about SF vs. DC. She had only visited DC once, in the summer, and she walked around in a long, flowery dress and flip flops. When Washingtonians, as is their custom, asked her "What do you do?
St. Frances
In the Early Times, St. Frances was the fairest and wisest of the heavenly beings, but she got bored. When she reached the age of maturity, she cast herself down from Heaven to play in the mud among the rutting mortals. Becoming a friend to sinners, she made it her
Diego
My buddy Diego fashioned himself from a thousand splintered images. Lifting from Gap ads, Men's Health, 80s movies, Dave Matthew's Band, Dawson's Creek, and ESPN, he reflected shards of American manhood from every shining surface. We've been friends since his Dawson Creek
Ash
Looking back over it, there was a lot to be thankful for this weekend. Number 1: the Niners' victory. But just today, a relativley quiet holiday, was a pretty good one, and I'm glad I got to: * Share a breakfast burrito, beet salad and lemon custard brioche
working out
Rocco's girlfriend Astana teaches at Bikram Yoga Seacliff in the Richmond, so last night Rock picked me up and took me to a class. It was my second time, and it kicked my ass. You bring a mat, a towell and a bottle of water. Then you take
food
It was a gray day today and I knew that if I didn't get out of the house I'd spend all of it streaming old episodes of Star Trek on Netflix. And I was hungry, so I grabbed my book, Tinker Tailer Solider Spy, and went