Life's been pretty amazing lately. I am still loving my job. I am so enjoying playing music in my new band. I can run 9 miles without stopping. I feel better than I have in years.

My new band played its first show on July 3 at Silvie's Lounge. Great time. I was a little nervous, and a few songs had some rough patches. But overall, this project is going to be pretty sweet. Gratuitous pictures:

May 9th-16th:

Saturday, May 9th
The Enright House: New York
The original plan was that Mark and Evan would come to New York and play their Brooklyn Show, hang out for a day, drive up and play Jamestown, then come back for another few days before finishing up their tour. This is not what actually happened.

On the morning of May 9th, I decide to take the boys for a walk around Midtown. Neither one had ever been to New York before, and since Evan was keen on things like TV and movie, I figured Midtown was a safe bet. We hit up Times Square, Rockefeller Center, Radio City. Mary South came over in the late afternoon to hang out while the boys explored my Tivo box, the likes of which they had never seen.

Around 6 or 7 pm, we all piled in the van and drove over to Goodbye Blue Monday! for the concert. I’d never been to GBM, and I have to say the place was absolutely charming—completely overstuffed with junk like an elderly woman’s attic.

Mark and Evan played with the Black Keys and House of V—too late, it turns out, for my friends to come. Except Alexis, who was a trooper, and schlepped all the way out and then stayed after to talk with Evan and Mark.

Sunday, May 10th

Since I didn’t get home until 3am, I decided church was probably not the best option. Since Mark and Evan’s brunch date fell through, I decided to take them out.

We took the train down to the World Train Center, went to Fulton Fish Market, then wandered around until we found the entrance to the Brooklyn Bridge. Why is the pedestrian path so poorly marked? Took the boys to Grimaldi’s, where they blanched at the length of the line. I waited while they went down to the wharf, then called my mom for Mother’s Day. The boys seemed pretty into the city and the pizza, which of course filled me with a lovely warm liquid sensation. I love living here so much, I revel in any enthusiasm tourists and visitors display.

Met up with Anna that night to get dessert at Magnolia’s, then went over to see Star Trek at the Lincoln Center theaters. Absolutely loved it. As I write this, I still consider Star Trek the only decent blockbuster movie of the summer, which is really sad.

Monday, May 11th
The Enright House: Jamestown

So Monday I make the poor, poor decision to follow the Enright House up to Jamestown for a show. I went with the understanding that we would be visiting Niagara Falls. Because let’s be honest—where Niagara Falls is located, there is ever really going to be anther chance to visit it unless I was going for the express purpose of visiting Niagara Falls. It isn’t as if it’s on the way to Boston or something. It’s in the middle of nowhere.

Besides, if I’m honest with myself, it would have been too hard to let Mark go after seeing him for only 4 days. He really does make me very, very happy. So we drive up to Binghampton, we drive near Buffalo, up and up we go towards the Great Lakes until we get to Jamestown, a precious little town which is, apparently, home to both Nick Carter AND Lucille Balle. Thank you and you’re welcome.

The Enright House had been booked at a local café/record store/salon called Labrinyth. The way the venue was set up, Mark and Evan were playing in the lounge area, and everyone sat down in chairs to watch them, giving the entire show much more of a convert vibe than a rock show vibe. I think that—plus some technical difficulties in the beginning—made the band feel self-conscious, but there was a lot of good energy from the audience.

Afterwards, we went to the local pool hall where Mark and Evan played a few games while I finished “Victorian Party Planning for Every Occasion.” That night, the owner of the café gave us some sandwiches, and the three of us slept on the floor of the lounge.

May 12th:
I had breakfast with a local jazz guitarist while Mark and Evan packed up the gear.

While the boys talked about New Orleans, I played some solitaire, then it was time to hit the road. We get in the car, start the ignition, and….nothing. After a few more tries, the car revved up, but Mark was feeling uncomfortable, so we went to a local mechanic. Oh wait, turns out the transmission is almost dead. So no Niagara Falls for me.

The band decided that the best option was to cancel the rest of the tour and make a break for Mark’s home in Indiana, since Jamestown is equidistant from New York and the Chicago area. This also meant I didn’t have a ride home. So I was left with two options: I could get a bus from Jamestown to Buffalo, then from Buffalo to New York ($120), or I could get a plane ticket from Chicago to New York ($150). So I did the stupid, irresponsible thing and decided to head back to Lowell, Indiana with Mark and Evan. The ride was actually surprisingly easy, and we were able to make it to Mark’s house by 10 pm or so. There I got to meet up with Mark’s mom Brenda, and was introduced to her boyfriend Rod and her dog Harley.

Harley had to have been the weirdest looking dog I’ve ever seen—all gigantic rolling eyes and Anna-Wintour-esque bob.

May 13th:

Indiana

It seemed that as soon as we arrived in Indiana, the storms arrived too. Black clouds, continuous rain, damp, cold.

Brenda, Rod, and Harley were all living in Mark’s grandmother’s old house, which was a very thick, very insular old place with little light and colorful carpets. The first day We did some reading at Starbucks, played a little music, and generally just read and watched TV. I Started Dennis Dutton’s new book “The Art Instinct,” which Dennis gave to Mark, and I had perused when it was in an earlier draft. The last time I met Dennis was at a concert when I was covered in gold sparkles, which I had accidentally rubbed on Mark’s suit, and which Dennis kept staring at. I can hardly see his name without reliving the embarrassment.

That night we drove into Lowell, got Pizzeria Uno, went to Guitar Center, and then I strong-armed the boys into taking me to see Fast & Furious, which was NOT by the way nearly as awesome as the first and third ones.

Thursday, May 14th:

The rain briefly let up in the afternoon, so I decided we should all go and do something kitschy. The answer? Fair Oaks Farm, an Indiana dairy farm open for tours. I was mostly lured in by Rod’s promises of cheesemaking and an ice cream shop. The reality of the situation turned out to be quite different than I had anticipated—very hokey, very shtick-y.

I was fine with it, but Mark and Evan were all too cool for school and whatev, refusing to get into the spirit of the ridiculous. For heavens sake, look at all there was to see and do:

Movie and Museum!

Interactive Dairy Play Area!

Birthing Room!

Milking Wheel!

The two hands-down worst events were the birthing room and the movie. In the birthing room, you are essentially led into a theater, where on stage, behind glass, there are two cows in various stage of childbirth. When we entered, the cows had blood, placenta, and other viscera hanging out of their vaginas, which was a little bit much for so early in the day. The movie—which chronicled the way in which the farm was run—was broadcast in smell-o-vision, and we were blasted with steam and water whenever something scatological entered the storyline. Which was frequent. And unnecessary. And mortifying. On the way home, we rode with the convertible top down, picked up some groceries, and went back to Mark’s house.

Went 4-wheeling with Mark through the mud. In the evening, we saw State of Play at Evan’s insistence. Eh, it was ok. I felt like it could have been a Law and Order episode.

Friday, May 15:
My last day in Indiana, Mark, Evan, and I puttered around the Starbuck’s trying to keep ourselves entertained. The rain returned, making any move outside a misery. Met up with Rod and Brenda at a country club for dinner. Talked a little bit about Mark as a child while eating burgers.

There were so many Canadian Geese wandering around—it was a bit ridiculous. At Mark’s request, saw Angels and Demons in town. Hated it Seriously, why are all summer movies such colossal disappointments?

Saturday May 16th:

Got up early in the morning and hiked over to a burned-out house on the property.

Took some pictures. Evan and Mark drove me up to Chicago, where the whole way, Mark expressed disdain for nearly everything I picked to listen to. Caught my flight back to New York.

May 1-8th:
Oh my, how much easier to do these catch-ups since the advent of Twitter! I can’t get over it.

May 1: TAG transcription
Atrium hooked me up with a job as a transcriptionist at the financial advisory firm TAG. I was very impressed by the fridge full of Pepsi, the thumb scan security system (in lieu of keys), and the sheer amount of insider knowledge I was receiving. Downside: TAG is located right next to the 6th avenue Anthropologie, so I might as well have been paid in cute shirts.

May 2:
The last day of the Mormon Arts Festival, I went over to the Lincoln Center building to watch my roommate sing in a musical revue. I hate musicals, and this did nothing to change my mind. I spent most of the time watching children watching the show (the appropriate audience for a musical in my mind). My roommate Meghan did do a very good job, I have to say, but outside of her, there were a lot of flat notes. Anna Mentor and I went around afterwards to see the various photos and paintings, and I was happy to see that my amateur work wasn’t totally embarrassed by better works—the paintings were deplorable, and I was the only sculpture. That said, there were some stunning photographs—I was very impressed by the caliber of photography on display. Overheard a conversation in the bathroom about someone’s friend dying of swine flu

May 3:
Coming back from church, I ran into a very dapper man who was holding a cane and reading a cream colored book. He asked me where I got my shoes, and we proceeded to talk for 15 minutes on the way home. He was a window dresser by profession, and gave lessons at Queens collge on fashion and style. He told me I dressed like a lady, and it was clear my mother had raised me correctly. If only he could see me Monday-Saturday, where I look like a homeless painter

May 4:
More transcribing!

May 5:
Mary South finally bought a high-def TV, and Tuesday was the day I finally got to check it out. We watched Casino Royale together, and I was so impressed with the crispness I almost wept. Science!

May 7th:
The Enright House: Philadelphia
It is here, of course, that I start falling off of everyone’s radar. This is, of course, the re-introduction of Mark Roberts into my life. Now, Mark and I have not effectively spoken since 2007. We right short, intermittent emails, we talk every 4-6 months, we IM every month or so, but nothing really substantial. At some point, I stopped going to his website and checking for updates. At the risk of sounding dramatic, it was simply easier to live with the idea that he was gone from my life then it was to face the possibility he was actually alive somewhere—and completely uninterested in me and my life. So I taught myself to become likewise disinterested.

Yet as the day of Mark’s arrival approached, I became more and more nervous, as I always seem to. He changes so much in particulars that I’m never sure what kind of a Mark I’m going to meet. I was also highly sensitive to the idea that I would be judged, that somehow I would be found wanting in appearance, intelligence, or lifestyle. I wish this wasn’t true, but that’s the reality of it. I can say honestly that he’s really one of the only people outside of my family whose opinion I care about.

So I take the PATH down to Philly, meeting Mark and his bandmate Evan in the Reading Terminal. And as soon as I see him again, of course, we’re right back where we were—completely and utterly delighted with each other’s company. I feel sorry for Evan, who I’m sure was pretty nauseated with all of the cuteness. I got some ice cream in Reading Market, and then we wandered down towards Independence Hall, stopping by a café for dinner. I asked Mark about his girlfriend, the tour, and his music, he asked me about work, my ex-boyfriend, and my family.

We wandered around downtown Philadelphia until it was dark. It turned out that Evan was a bit of a film geek, so when he found out the Philadelphia Museum of Art was where the iconic Rocky training montage was filmed, he decided he had to go. So we went up to the museum, saw the Rocky statue, and the boys took turns running up and down the stairs like true champions. Mark and I were equally impressed by the fact that the PMA painted their Grecian-style sconces and trim in bright, bold colors—exactly the way the Greeks would have.

The three of us got a hotel near Trenton, New Jersey, since Philadelphia seemed to have a critical shortage of cheap accommodations. Not as sketchy as I was anticipating, but by no means amazing. I had gotten p at 4am to do all the work I needed to do to afford the weekend in Philly, so I was absolutely exhausted. Mark and Evan, smack in the middle of the touring lifestyle, kept trying to talk to me, even as I was drifting off to sleep.

May 8th:

Philadelphia is a tough town to get around. The neighborhoods aren’t super close together for walking purposes, and the historical district is too far away from the café/shop/record store area. So we resigned ourselves to historical touring. Had breakfast at Reading Terminal.

We stopped at the Liberty Bell first, then walked over to Independence Hall. While we were waiting for our tour, we stopped by a Charles Darwin exhibit (I was more impressed with Charles Lyell’s letters, but I was the minority, clearly), then made our way over to Ben Franklin’s Philosophical Society library, which had even more letters and pictures of Darwin.

We passed by the Second National Bank (which had beautiful, almost butter colored marble pillars) and stopped by the Carpenters Historic Hall, where the First Continental Congress met. I was fascinated by all of the Masonic symbols, which were very similar (as I’m sure many of you know) to the symbols Mormons use when constructing their temples.
Walked down the cobblestone street leading up to Carpenter’s Hall, went inside “New Hall”, supposedly the site of the first Pentagon.

Stopped and had a drink at a café. Talked a little bit about why I wasn’t writing anymore. Went to the site of Ben Franklin’s house, walked through the first post office and his old printing press building. Went on the tour of Independence Hall.
I was more impressed with the color of the blue wall paint than anything else. I’m highly considering it when I get a place of my own. Walked down Elfreth Alley, which had some of the oldest row houses in Philadelphia.

By the time we got to Betsy Ross’s house it was late afternoon, and Mark was beginning to feel nervous about the upcoming show. We stopped for pizza as he got more and more quite; then Mark and I freaked out Evan by going to the opposite extreme and having a 2 hour argument about national health care and private verses government responsibility.

Around 7ish we pulled up the The Model House, an apartment-come-venue in a sketchy part of town. Mark and Evan were going on first, so they set up all of their equipment while I talked to Mary South on the phone.

The show was a pretty emotional experience for me, I have to say. While we were in college, Mark and I had recorded a 2+ hour long conversation about our relationship and our feelings for each other and our future (or lack thereof) together. Mark has been using excerpts of that conversation in a few of his new songs, and has been playing a version of “Scattering the Sun Like Gunshot” which also incorporates the recording. I hadn’t heard most of Mark’s new songs, so when I heard the lyrics, I was hit a bit sideways. Then when I heard the excerpts of our recording, which I hadn’t heard in over 6 years, I was pretty torn up. I’m still not entirely sure why it was so hard, but there was something about being there and seeing him again, and seeing that he had in fact actually missed what we had, and the full shock of remembering what we had, it was heart breaking. But I wasn’t depressed really—it was another emotion. The closest thing I could say was that it was a sharp and clear sense of love and loss. I ended up stading in a corner with tears running down my face, everyone around me incredibly uncomfortable, and after the set was over, I ran into the kitchen and cried, feeling incredibly ridiculous as I did so.

It’s always going to be like this between us, isn’t it?

We drove back to New York that night, parked on 12th avenue and 50th street, and the boys got their first taste of New York City.

The hiccup in my blog updating was solely due to Mark Robert’s arrival in New York. Blame him!

April:

Cruise:
I decided to take my summer vacation a little early, so in April my most wonderful advertising mentor and NYCBFF Anna O’Brien and I decided to go on a cruise. We found $150 RT tickets to Miami, a $300-4 day cruise, so it seemed like a good chance to relax and get some sun.
What people don’t tell you about cruises are the food. People hint about the delicious all you can eat buffets, but nobody really prepares you for the sheer wanton onslaught you will be experiencing. Anna and I went with Celebrity Cruises, and as soon as we got on, we bought an unlimited drink cup, as we are both married to Diet Coke. This is the only food and beverage purchase we made—everything else, with the exception of alcoholic beverages, were included in the price of the cruise. We were then invited to go to the café deck and help ourselves to some snacks while everyone boarded.

These are the dining options available:
Formal dining room
Poolside grill (tacos, hamburgers, nachos all day)
Café deck with pizza bar, ice cream bar, dessert bar, hot entrees bar, sandwich station, sushi bar, stir fry bar, omelet bar, pasta bar.
Tapas Lounge

And even in the formal dining room, you can have seconds or thirds of everything in the 5 course menu. So, needless to say Anna and I fell face first into the food and didn’t look back. I was getting to the point where I was eating in pain, choking down food when I wasn’t even hungry JUST BECAUSE IT WAS THERE. I know, I’m pathetic. You will realize how pathetic when you realize that almost everything I remember from this cruise was in some way or another related to food.
We did other things when we weren’t eating. We went to Key West, which I fell in love with. Anna and I went to Hemmingway’s house, and navigated around the millions of cats which littered the property (all descended, ostensibly, from Hemmingway’s cats). The man who gave the tour looked exactly like you would expect: Bermuda shorts, Hawaiian print shirt, boat captain’s hat, drank from a flask.
After we walked around the grounds, Anna and I stopped by the Key Lime Pie Factory to try some key lime pie, because hey, we were in Key West and if any place was going to rock the dessert, it was going to be the birth place. Sticking to tradition, we got it with meringue instead of whipped cream (even though Anna and I hate meringue). And I have to say, taking a bite of that thing was a completely transcendent experience. I don’t think I’ve ever tried anything as beautiful in my whole life. The crust was perfect, the blend of sweet and tart was unbelievable. I was literally crying while eating.
Here are some random photos the two of us took around town:
On the second day of the cruise, we arrived in Cozumel. Now, as I am not a Jimmy Buffet fan or a frat boy, Cozumel held as much interest for me as a Dave Matthews concert, so I managed to convince Anna to go with me to Tulum, the Mayan ruins on the mainland. (By the way, Cozumel looks brown and depressing, so if there is a beautiful and glamorous part, I didn’t see it). So we took a ferry over to the Yucatan peninsula, disembarked at Playa del Carmen, and took a bus down to Tulum.
Like all tourist trips in 2nd and 3rd world countries, no bus ride would be complete without the obligatory “rest stop” where you are herded in to an overpriced store and pressured into buying poorly carved masks and cheap silver. After that painful debacle, we got to Tulum, which was very impressive. But because the tour guide was so painfully slow and unnecessarily thorough, Anna and I broke away from the group and found a private beach, where we did a little swimming with the locals and got some sun. Then, we took some photos of the frescos, I bought a book on the history of Tulum, then we went to scout out a Mexican restaurant.

Our service was great because Anna had bought some Mexican wrestling masks, so the kitchen staff kept coming out to tell us about the sport and take turns trying them on. I had one of the best, simple and fresh meal of my life, which was incredible well priced considering the added “tourist tax” that was no doubt imposed. However, after eating myself sick at the restaurant, I returned to the bus only to find out we were being given free subway sandwiches, as no one else on the bus had escaped to a Mexican café, and they were all ravenous. Continuing my irrational eating, I promptly ate my whole subway sandwich, becoming so nauseated that I had to crawl into bed as soon as we boarded the boat. This meant I missed the Mexican food fiesta on the top deck, which Anna went to and raved about. Grrrr.

The third day of the cruise was mostly at sea. Almost all day was spent eating in the sun, occasionally stepping into pools to cool off, then eating again. Anna and I played in one of the most competitive rounds of Bingo I have ever seen, then we sat through a “Broadway Style Show” after dinner. Imagine everything you hate about Broadway, then imagine it’s performed by people not quite good enough to make it into Broadway. It was that amazing. The show’s theme: Around the world. The stage gets dark, images of black and white women and children appear on the projectors, and the music slowly builds. A spot light on the top of the stage. A man steps into it, wearing a sequined vest without sleeves, a bowtie and cuffs, and spandex pants. “Weeeeeeeee’re cooooooooooooming toooooooo Aaaaaaaaaaaameeeeeeeeeeerrrrrriiiiiiiccccaaaaaaaaaa!” He sings, all jazz fingers and teeth. It was truly amazing.

On our last day of the cruise, we reached Miami and disembarked. We tried to make the best of South Beach, but South Beach wasn’t really our thing. Everything was covered in crystals. We weren’t allowed into the clubs because we weren’t hot enough. Luckily, we found some good places to eat, but it was cold comfort. So if anyone tells you South Beach is awesome, they are lying. South Beach is only awesome of you’re Britney Spears.

South Beach photos:

Once we got back to New York, life picked up again as usual. I started a Twitter Account on April 10, which has made it so much easier to chronicle the things I wasted my time doing in the month of April:

Friday, April 10:
Started my Twitter Account. Went to see the Bajofondo Tango Club, and on the way ran into Clay Aiken, who was taller yet chubbier than I had imagined. The BTC were pretty good—I was there with some peeps from work—but the real winner was the opening band, Contramano. I think they’re from Argentina. They’ve got a wicked great stage show and one of the most charismatic lead singer’s I’ve ever met. Afterwards We went to secret Korean chicken place Bon Chon Chicken, which was amazing in every way.

Saturday, April 11: The beginning of the rainy season starts as I am drenched heading over to the Upper West Side to have brunch with my visiting teaching group. That night I meet up with Cousin Brooke, and we see Adventureland, which was much more poignant and funny than I had anticipated. Afterwards, we went back to her house and had a sleepover while watching Terry Gilliam’s Brazil. That movie could be the most accurate movie I’ve ever seen. That is how the world will end, I’m utterly sure of it.

Sunday, April 12:
Easter Sunday means breaking out the lace gloves, which I did. I only wish I had a hat to match. After church, Cousin Brooke, Roommate Meghan and I went over to Anna O’Brien’s house for Easter Dinner. Brooke and I made chicken and dumplings, then we all sat around and watched the finale of Rock of Love. So disappointed, Bret. You know neither of those girls will be good for you.

Monday, April 13:
Laundromat/taxes/Finally saw “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?” It was delightfully modern and super creepy.

Tuesday, April 14:
Went to Marsha’s house in Brooklyn, got some Greek food. She introduced me to the wonder that is “Chelsea Lately,” then filled up my iPod with a bunch of 90’s industrial music. Epic Win!

Wednesday. April 15:
Fresh out of bartending school, Mary South introduces me to the world of secret, high-end New York Bars like PDT. Walked around 9th st between 1st av and 2nd ave, almost died of the cuteness. Ended up getting some fancy schmancy drinks at a secret bar tucked behind a sushi restaurant near Astor Place.

Thursday, April 16:
Had my last day of Institute. Took the girls out afterwards to get dumplings at Vanessa’s. Ate so many I got physically ill. Then to make matters worse, left the dumpling house, then ran straight into Logan Duran at the height of my crush on him. So yes, it was glorious running into a boy I’ve been fancing while bloated and smelling of pork. And yes, gentleman, I AM still single.

Saturday: April 18: Did a full day of casting with roommate Meghan—we were looking for guys to participate in this new reality TV show, and the casting company sent us up to Yankee Stadium. We spent the whole day around what Meghan calls “Beef eaters”—aka short, squat corn-fed looking boys with more than enough hair on their knuckles and shoulders. I did learn an important thing about human nature: men loved to be approached by chicks. In the evening, Meghan and I went to the Greek Orthodox Easter Service on the corner, but had to leave 2 hours in when it showed no signs of slowing down.

Sunday, April 19: Spent the whole day trying to find hot guys in Union Square, epicly failed in our casting, but Meghan and I were saved when we discovered a phalanx of rugby players up in Central Park. Hot guy quota filled!

Monday April 20th: My old Rutgers classmate Shana was in the city, so we grabbed dinner at a Thai restaurant, then spent 4 hours talking about movies, books, and philosophy. I was so inspired by our conversation that afterwords I went home and finally watched that old copy Fassbinder’s “Martha” that had been languishing on my side table for 6 months. Turns out, Martha is one of the most horrific movies I have ever seen. Good, but truly terrifying and horrific.

Tuesday, April 21:
With no good movies and in desperate need of some cute boy time, Meghan and I go check out Zack Efron in “17 again.” So much better than expected, and totally converted me to the cult that is Z.E.

Thursday, April 23:
Had lunch with Mo in Williamsburg at a little café called 5 Leaves. The whole place looks like a Victorian sailors den, which of course greatly appealed to me. Tried to walk home, got lost in Queens, finally discovered the pedestrian path to the Queensborough bridge. Got home, changed, then met roommate Alexis at the Met to see “Das Rheingold.” Absolutely atrocious final act.

Saturday: April 25:
I had to give the Relief Society’s Anniversary speech for Enrichment. I just kind of winged the whole thing, which wasn’t the best idea.

Sunday: April 26:
Invited with Brooke, Anna, Marsha, and Meghan over to watch the premier of Daisy of Love. She votes off the Swedish Triplets. That sets a precedent for the show being totally lame, which it has been ever since.

Monday, April 27:
Since my health insurance expires on May 1, I made sure to get an eye exam and a new stash of contacts before I was cut off completely.

April 28:
Got some Indian food with Marsha at the Christmas Lights restaurant on 3rd st and 1st ave. On the way there, I found $20 on the ground, making the night an epic win. Afterwards, I met up with Meghan and Anna in midtown, where I got a drink and they shared some empanadas

April 30:
I got a temp transcription job with TAG advisory, where I learned all I needed to know about investment advising. I was won over by the fridge stocked with pepsis and the all-you-can eat pretzels. Also, did I mention the thumb scanner you use to enter instead of a key? Yeah, totally rad. Met up with Anna after work at Bon Chon Chicken, because that place never, ever gets old.

What are you looking at?

I am offended by this article, especially the suggestion that women lawyers should look at a fashion blog to decide how to dress for court. I am even more discouraged that this suggestion comes from a female Article III judge.

My Chicago peeps, what's going on with this: http://gawker.com/5273527/chicagos-bloody-weekend-shooting-violence-off-the-charts
?

I ran 7.5 miles today without stopping. 1:17:49. I am going to tentatively say that I am interested in trying to run a half marathon someday. Today's route:

I was lonely and bored, so I sat in my kitchen and recorded some more awful crap in garage band. I recorded shakers at some point, but I must have accidentally deleted the track, and I am too lazy to redo it. Anyway: