But Tequila Has Always Been my Friend

It’s been a particularly hard day, and I’m swigging a large bottle of mineral water.

Me: I wish this were tequila.
Bryan: Mmmhmm.
Me: I also wish I were 23 years old. Just waking up from having slept in. Until 3 p.m. On spring break. In Cabo.
Bryan: I can make one of those things happen.
Me: Sounds good. I never understood spring break anyway. It was like, why would I spend a week throwing up and pushing away the wasted, persistent guy who wants to put his diseased penis to use?
Bryan: …
Me: I was a blast in college.

2006 Collective John Hughes Flashback

A lifetime ago, we attended the Air Guitar Championships. There was exactly one girl who was a contender. She had it all: the snarl, the reckless abandon, a mean air technique. She was going into the final round, rocking it out, and bringing the house down. At the end of her performance, the crowd was going wild, she was strutting around the stage, grinning from ear to ear. And then, as if in slow motion, she raised both hands above her head and sort of twinkled her fingers. The crowd gasped and drew back. “Cheerleader,” one of them said. And just like that, everyone went silent and headed for the bar.

San Francisco was always picked last for kickball.


The Art of Dressing Well

My friend Mai has a fun street-fashion blog called Fashioni.st. I went out walking with her the other day, and took a couple of pictures.

Because we only had a second to stop someone as they rushed by, I found there were a few key things I looked at first. On women, interesting shoes and bags often signaled that everything else was working too. Mai mentioned that people wearing jeans were less likely to be doing something compelling with their outfits. I noticed that men who pay attention to making their hairstyle unique were more likely to be dressed well too. Also, anyone wearing color stood out, as it’s almost impossible to find people who aren’t in black.

It was a surprisingly educational experience. For hours afterward I couldn’t stop checking people’s outfits for creative sparks, and I found myself getting oddly anxious about my shoes.


Hey, we’ve been in the news lately! First, fellow-blogger and freelance writer Anh-Minh noticed the shots of the nursery we posted ages ago, and she sent a photographer over for this article in the San Francisco Chronicle:

Renters who remodel
Investing a little of your money in a rental can pay dividends in better living
by Anh-Minh Le

Then we were working at Ritual Roasters, and a Chron columnist asked what we were up to:

The mystery of the daytime idle: Why aren’t you working? by Chris Colin


Sarah Hepola is a better writer than you (and by you, I mean me). Anyway, today we are celebrating because, despite moving to New York where they frown on such things, Sarah’s blogging again! And this time, she’s not just blogging about her life and articles, but also about sex!

Here’s what she has to say about American Idol:

“I start watching, I get addicted, I start shooting American Idol into the soft tissue of my upper thigh.”

Oh, darling, how we’ve missed you.