Que Sera Sera

You know what I like?

Switching it up a little this time.

(Vol. 1, 2, and 3)

I want to make the world a mix tape

I am so in love with New York lately. On Friday, it was all sunny and crisp, and I was walking around Union Square doing some Christmas shopping, just smiling. Sometimes I want to high five New York, and other times I want to roll my eyes and ignore it, but Friday I wanted to kiss it, nice and sweet, open mouth but no tongue. Maybe a little tongue.

And Saturday was a perfect Brooklyn day, all overcast scarf weather, and I spent every single minute of it with my friends. Megan made us breakfast, Bryant cooked us dinner, and in between there was a trip to the Brooklyn Museum to see the Walton Ford and Ron Mueck exhibits, Sarah and I watched The Royal Tenenbaums while eating chips and dip, and then there were about 700 bottles of wine to be dealt with in Bryant’s tiny boathouse kitchen. While Megan and Sarah and I were walking to the museum, I was suddenly like, This! This is why I moved here.

I’m sure the time of year has something to do with my good mood. Fall is my favorite season. The few times in my life that I’ve fallen in love, it’s been in the fall. Right now I’m enjoying the fact that my happiness isn’t hinged on another person. I’m thankful that I’m the one responsible for my own happiness in life. I’m thankful that my life is full of so many wonderful people. I’m thankful that right now I have a load of towels in the dryer and I’m about to take a bubble bath and ohhhh man that’s going to rule.

I’m spending Thanksgiving weekend in Raleigh-Durham, North Carolina, for Joey’s wedding. Word on the street is there’s going to be a kegerator and a deep-fried turkey and boy oh boy, there are few things I like more than drinking with other people’s families. Also: reception at the history museum! OH MY GOD COULD WE POSSIBLY CRAM A FEW MORE OF MY FAVORITE THINGS INTO ONE WEEKEND WAIT: we’re staying at a hotel called the Velvet Cloak Inn, and I fully expect there to be mead in goblets at the complimentary continental breakfast, dragon tapestries in the halls, and ye olde soft core on the telly. God bless America.

Keep it tight

The Cringe pilot taping on Saturday was a success. Full house, funny readers, good times. There were some time limit issues, but overall, it went really well. I was a little nervous to have my parents there, since some of the readings are definitely not G-rated, and I couldn’t look anywhere near my dad whenever anyone said the word “blowjob,” but when I did look, they were laughing as hard as anyone else. Afterwards I asked my mom who had been her favorite, and she said, “Oh, I loved the guitar guy, and also that guy who read the poem he wrote while he was on acid!” That’s a lady with taste right there.

You can see my photoset on Flickr, or check the Cringe TV Pool for more.

Thank you so much to everyone who came out and laughed and read and made this happen. I am so glad it’s over and I can sleep again. For now.

T minus

The Cringe pilot taping is this Saturday, and it couldn’t come a moment sooner. I am excited and exhausted with preparation. Many, many people I love are coming from near and far to be here for it. I imagine the only other way I could manage to get all of these people in the same room would be to die or get married, but since I don’t have the time to do either of those before this weekend, the pilot taping will have to do.

My parents and brother arrive tomorrow morning. My dad sent me an email asking, “Which of these things do I need to bring to New York with me: tie, sport coat, hard-soled shoes, umbrella, black clothing.” I assured him this taping would be as fraternity pledge and beatnik-free as possible, just jeans would be fine, to which my mother replied, “Oh no, don’t tell him that! He only has one pair of jeans and they’re two inches too short! Tell him to wear dress pants. Tell your brother that, too.” Then I asked her what else she wanted to do while she was in town, and she said, “I want us to see the Borat movie, as a family.” Us Browns, we make our own church.

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