It's true.
Welcome to the family, Little Guy! (Kenny's really excited you're here.)
I tend to keep things pretty surface-level on this blog for the most part. I might share my hatred for Time Warner Cable, and occasionally whine about forgetful old women in my church, or I might even share some actual feelings from time to time...but the content of this blog is generally sort of banal. And that's okay. I prefer it that way. But why don't we all try something a little deeper on this Monday morning...
(by the way, how amazing are those graphics? I just want to hang prints of these covers all over my house...Moving on.)I think Adam Smith might have appreciated that clarification.
Oh yeah, the article also mentions a possible Altas Shrugged movie. Kenny and I have given this potential movie a lot of thought, and (while on a road trip) we casted all the parts. So, Hollywood? If you're listening, we have Atlas Shrugged's dream cast already worked out. (And it absolutely does not have Angelina Jolie as Dagny. How dare you...) Call us.

But Blue Lagoon? Time has not been kind to this cinematic product. I had a hard time getting past Brooke Shield's terrible acting, the whole incestual nature of their relationship, and the fact that the whole movie better served as a P.S.A. for the importance of sex education. It was essentially a two hour maturation video. I'd say check it out, but I don't want to be guilty of advocating such a total waste of time. If you choose to watch it, don't say i didn't warn you...
Sister Becca...
Oh, blessed subway... L.A.'s just doesn't measure up. I dream of the day I no longer have to drive. (Becca and Anna)
Anna dominated my point and shoot camera all weekend, which was cool; I actually made it into some shots...albeit just barely in this case.
Happy to finally be on the bus after several attempts to locate the correct stop.
So much to see in the city...apparently I'm concerned about something.
Becca, Mom, Anna on Pier 39, not to be mistaken for Pier 49 - the pizza place I worked at for a year or so during high school (It was really good pizza...)
Waiting for the trolley to paradise (i.e. Ghirardelli Square - chocolate!)
Enjoying the ocean's bounty at fisherman's wharf. (One lucky transient got to enjoy the remainders of my calamari. Aren't I generous?)
Sisters (at Lombard Street. Yeah, we were total tourists.)
We were fortunate to see both the Warhol Live and the Yves St. Laurent exhibits at the De Young. Outside the museum, I'm dreaming of wild parties and couture.
Becca got all the height in the family. Thus, she is a natural model.
My family has a tendency to make goofy faces and weird poses...unprompted. Oh well. (In front of the ferry building where I satisfied my craving for french macarons.)
La mer et ma mere. (translation: the sea and my mother.) She grew up in Southern California but is currently land-locked in Utah. Here she takes a moment to breath in the Pacific. (at Fisherman's Wharf)
Mecca.I'm sure I'll post more... be warned.
There's lots of reasons to love Anna - her sense of humor, her kindness, her quick wit, her joyful nature - but my favorite thing about Anna is her unpretentious confidence. It might be because I spent essentially my entire adolescence in a state of self-loathing, but I just love that she seems so happy in her own skin and confident in her likability without a trace of arrogance or smugness. She is kind, thoughtful, funny, and exactly herself all the time and never stops to consider what anyone might think of her. She just likes herself and assumes everyone else will, too. And apparently, they do. Congrats Anna. I continue to be inspired by you and I love you very much. You'll make a fantastic class president.
Always thoughtful, I got an email from Anna yesterday wishing me a Happy Easter. Her signature line included this phrase:
Great scene (and I'm paraphrasing)...
Great friend /movie companion / conversationalist: Sarah ...
(Sarah is rocking the Geela Wrap, available here.)
Great Story... (but not-so-great story telling)
You know when you're deeply engrossed in conversation and you don't really pay attention to where you're going or what you're doing? Such was the case when Sarah and I walked into the movie theater last night. After deciding that good movie popcorn needs lots of butter, Sarah left to get more for our otherwise dry, bland popcorn. The previews hadn't even started yet. Well, I watched the pre-preview entertainment, the recap, and several (long) trailers (all of which were for kids movies, which was weird considering the feature film was very adult). After downing half a box of Skittles and exercising great restraint in not hurling my phone at the screen when a giant Scorsese reminded me to 'kindly silence my cell phone' (for the thousandth time), I was convinced Sarah had been abducted - or she was scarfing all our popcorn in some deserted hallway. Either way, I had to do something. After all, I still had her purse, wallet, phone, etc. Where could she be?
I waited long enough.
I eventually found her sitting all alone on the front row in the correct theatre. Apparently we're too cool to listen to the doorman tell us which theatre our movie will play in and we sorta followed each other into the theatre playing Monsters vs Aliens. Anyway, it was awesome. In hushed whispers, she confessed she couldn't remember which theatre we had been in after leaving to get more butter. She decided to wait in the correct theatre and was confident I'd figure it out...eventually.
Luckily, she was right. It took me awhile, but I got it. (And the movie was still great, even after missing the first twenty minutes.)
Good times.
