kimmie nguyen:

made me smile

‘Should You Be Laughing at This?’ is a coming book by Thorarinn Hugleikur Dagsson featuring my favourite kind of humour – the kind with just the right amount of ‘wrong’… The kind of humour you hate to laugh at as it makes you feel like a bad person, but you simply cannot help yourself.

via yellowtrace.com.au

With age, comes...eggs?

I celebrated another birthday last month. A good birthday as they always are but more and more I've been feeling this "age thing" (go ahead, roll the eyes). But it's definitely a women-hormones-kind-of-a-thing. Your EGGS start TALKING to you. Seriously. They make babies look cute and force you to think about things like if you don't meet the one in x years and procreate, well you may end up as a wrinkly spinster eating tuna out of a can. And who knows, maybe I will. Maybe I won't. However my indecisiveness on the subject matter does not keep the eggs from talking. It's rather creepy. Damn you, mother nature.

So what is this hormonal rant all about? No idea. Thought it was about time I did a life post. Sucks that all I have to talk about is, yeah eggs. As you can see I've been struggling with a bit of writer's block. Admitedly the whole interweb sharing process has just become too tedious. I blame Google+  and all the other products that have splintered my experience of the social web. Too many places for me to share *something* about what I'm doing, when I'm doing it, how I'm doing it, who I'm doing it with and what the picture of it looks like filtered with low-fidelity lens. And you know what, the people I'm sharing *that* with may not care so why haven't I put them into a circle. Eep. With all of that, who has time to actually sit down and write in a blog?

Well, I'd like to attempt to return to a regular schedule of random musings. This is a good a start as any I suppose. :)

(lovely birthday cards via the talented tiffchow and kateritzero)

Living in SF Means... | The Bold Italic

I couldn't have said it better myself. Below are my favorite bits but you have to read the post in its entirety. HILARIOUS. Thanks @joec500 for the send. Love that I can relate to so many of these moments and yet I've never lived in San Francisco.  ;)

*****

1. Living in San Francisco means hearing your neighbors fuck.

The noise comes through the walls, through the ceiling, through the floor. The sound of muffled moans and love murmurs in Spanish, in Cantonese, in Tagalog, in English, in Arabic, in French, in…

2.Living in San Francisco means having an ex-girlfriend that is dating your other ex-girlfriend.

It means having a crush on a girl at Tartine. Having a crush on a bartender with a fancy mustache. Having a crush on a dancer at AsiaSF even though you don’t know if she still has a penis...

3. Living in San Francisco means moving to the Mission and complaining that it's getting gentrified.

It means knowing the Marina actually isn’t that bad after all. Knowing that Nopa is a restaurant and that the neighborhood is called the Western Addition. Knowing that Upper Haight is always about five degrees colder than Lower Haight...

4. Living in San Francisco means continually dealing with impermanence.

It means having places you love close up forever. It means having friends get married and move to Oakland. Friends who leave to join the Peace Corps. Friends who go to rehab. Friends who lose their minds. Friends who move back to wherever the fuck they’re from...

5. Living in San Francisco means embracing any cause for celebration.

It means having a costume box for events like Bay to Breakers, the Love Parade, Burning Man, Halloween, Decompression, the How Weird Street Faire, or whatever new dress-up holiday gets added to the calendar this year. It means accidentally buying blow in the Beauty Bar...

6. Living in San Francisco means waiting an hour for a cab if there's the slightest bit of rain.

It means riding the Night Owl and thinking you’re gonna get mugged by the teenagers in the back. Taking the 22 from the Marina to the Dogpatch and observing the city’s vast spectrum of existence. Sitting on BART and trying not to think about what lives inside those cushions...

7. Living in San Francisco means coming over the Bay Bridge and having your heart race a little when you see the city skyline.

Crossing the Golden Gate and smiling at the way the fog sits right on top of it. Snaking up the 101 and Candlestick Park being the greeting that tells you you’re almost home. It means visiting Middle America and being thought of as some kind of socialist gay hippie...

8. Living in San Francisco means the midday smell of pot.

Cold winter winds that cut right through you. Sweet summer strawberries grown not too far away. Crisp salty air by the ocean. The occasional sound of gunshots. Being able to actually count the number of stars visible in the sky. Warm whiskey and late-night chatter on a new friend’s rooftop...