I know I don’t update this blog very often, but every day a few of you still click over here to check up on me. Do you guys know that there are other things to read on the Internet? Have you been to dlisted? Shit’s hilarious.
Anyway, for your sake, I feel like I need to get that heinous picture of Guy Fieri off the top of this page. So here’s a pointless, rambling post about nothing. Because you deserve the best.
Did everyone have a good Christmas? Mine was fine. My brother came up from San Diego to stay with us for a few days. It’s always great when we get to spend time playing iPhone games together in the same room instead of 500 miles apart. You don’t need to use the “nudge” feature in Scramble with Friends when you can just yell “PLAY YOUR TURN GODDAMNIT!” through the bathroom door.
Speaking of Christmas, I was picking up a plant for my grandma at Paxton Gate a few days before the holiday, and that place was a ZOO. And I’m not talking about all the dead animals (what kind of shitty Emily the Strange zoo would that be?). Apparently every single person in the Mission decided that the perfect holiday gift this year is a taxidermied mouse dressed in elaborate Victorian garb.
The utter preciousness of it all didn’t really hit me until I was standing in the mile-long line for checkout (which wound uncomfortably close to the Wall of Giant Disgusting Spiders) and watched as a homeless man walked in, looked around bemusedly, shook his head, and walked out. What must someone who has nothing think about a bunch of people spending absurd amounts of money on dead bugs dressed in business casual attire? I’m not kidding about that, by the way. They literally have grasshoppers and beetles set up in little display boxes wearing neckties and carrying briefcases like they’re headed to their jobs at an insurance agency. Ugh, San Francisco, sometimes I hate us so much.
In less depressing news, earlier in December Stephen and I spent a weekend in Seattle. I’m not going to write a whole long thing about every place we got drunk at in Seattle, because do I look like Anthony Bourdain? (Answer: a little. Another answer: Montana. We got drunk at Montana and you should too.)
Seattle is surprisingly pleasant for a place that gets rained on 374 days a year. Also? It is weirdly clean. No human excrement on the sidewalk, no shattered glass, not even a coffee sleeve rolling in the gutter (quite a feat when you consider the ten million Starbucks on every corner). What’s your deal, Seattle? I know about the Gum Wall, but does that mean you have walls for all city refuse? Is there some alleyway in Ballard with everyone’s tattered grandpa cardigans from 1993 piled in the corner? Tell me your secret, because I would really like to hear about an alternative to San Francisco’s current waste program: Everyone Dump Your Spent Whippet Canisters and Used Heroin Needles in Front of Jessica’s House Right Before Her Family Comes Over for Thanksgiving.
On an administrative note, my new year’s resolution is to stop worrying about what to post here and just post more. 2013: the year of quantity over quality (“Quality?” — everyone.). Watch out, rest of the Internet! I’m coming for ya. Probably.