Yeah, yeah. I know. I haven't updated in forever. Things have been insane. I'm getting adjusted to this city, this life, this period of my life. Plus, I'm doing so much editing (and, occasionally, blogging) for the Guardian that I hardly have the energy to direct to my own little corner of the web. But. That doesn't mean I haven't been doing stuff worth sharing. Nor that I don't want to share it. And so. I have about 15 minutes before I have to start doing something else productive that I actually get paid for, which means just enough time for a very short, very fast rundown of what the hell I've been doing lately. Ready?
I moved. I know you already know that, but I haven't talked much about it. So here's a picture of my room, pre-furniture, pre-box delivery from my parents, pre-actually living in it. I'm gradually getting settled - emphasis on the word "gradually." Now have a bed frame, an armoire, and an art table. I'm figuring by Burning Man I should have some place to put my shoes other than cardboard file boxes. Maybe.
April 1 at Cafe du Nord, my kickass roommate Valerie Orthhad her CD release party. She's an amazing folk singer with a crazy magnetic stage presence. And she's a fab roommate. Plus, I like her beau - who also happens to be in her band. The other two roommates were there too - Samantha (who works for Greenpeace) and Cat (a Harvard-grad ballet dancer who does some kind of analysis for the city government) - and then we had another one of our classic too-late parties.
I attended the Half-Heeb Passover Dinner with Steve Jones (my colleague) and his g.f. Rosie. We started by introducing ourselves, explaining how Jewish (or not Jewish) we were, and then declaring what oppressed peoples we'd be thinking about during dinner (as Passover is a celebration of freedom from oppression, though I'd never thought about it that way.) I said I'd be thinking about the journalists at the News-Press. Then we did the ceremony with a fantastic, poetic, liberal (but not annoying) Haggadah. The whole thing was so profound and moving, I nearly cried. Then came the partying. It was the most powerful and most debaucherous Passover I've ever experienced. (And as usual, that flake Elijah never showed up.)
April 13. Bad ass fashion show at The Crucible in Oakland. Fire. Go read about it here.
For the first time in I-don't-know-how-long, I got an actual haircut. Then some friends and I went to a party for digg.com.
The next night, North brings some work friends (and randoms from The Transfer) over to my house after barhopping (and by barhopping, I mean going between Amber and The Transfer all night). Then he gets into my costume box...
Oh. My. God. Rollerskating in Golden Gate park before watching Roller Derby. Not only was it a fucking blast, but I didn't manage to fall once. 'Course, that could have something to do with the fact that I'm a big huge wuss and everytime I started going fast, I'd run off into the grass. But still. I wasn't nearly as badass as the girls in the show, but I do have to say my rainbow socks are cuter than their sillly jerseys.
Then I saw Kinky. I heart Kinky. A lot.
And what else? Lots of time at Amber and The Transfer, my neighborhood bars. Some dancing at Beat Church. Saw Marina in a Think13 performance with Miss Jonsey Bender. Buffy nights at my house with Cat (and sometimes guests). How Weird Street Faire. Dinners out. Shopping for furniture. Watching Lost with Siobhan and Eddie. Daily check-ins with Siobhan, who works in the same building. Sleeping. Napping. Eating French Fries. And, this week, sweating like I live in Austin, Texas. What's with the weather? Oh yeah, global warming is going to kill us all...
Up next? Lightning in a Bottle. My childhood friend's wedding in San Diego. The Bay Guardian's block party, a Mississippi Brodown. And more and more and more...
I'm busy. I'm happy. I'm still alive. Usually.
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