Author Archives: aubs

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Perhaps I should start a spinoff site named TextsFromSundayEarlyAfternoon.com

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Speaking OF Bay to Breakers, there's nothing like checking your phone the next day to see your string of texts. This one was particularly epic; so much that I felt obligated to share it with the world, misspellings, timestamps, and attribution (well, at least my own), intact:

Him (12:53pm PDT): Omg I'm so hammered with friends I love so much. I land at 930. Want to pick me up!?!?
Aubs (1:33pm): I'm pretty
Him (1:34pm): Yea. And in took the quick plane to make sure u don't f up
Aubs (1:48pm): Huh? I live you an will call a supersguttle but I will not be able to Drive. Fun!
Him (1:52pm): Ps. Im pretty
Aubs (1:54pm): Ps: Yes you are

…some time passes…
Him (2ish): Omg I'm hammered. Let's hope I get on the plane.
Aubs (2ish): Dude. You have. NO. IDEA.
Aubs (2ish): I dressed up as Miss California

… a bit more time passes…
Him (2:18pm): First time I can't wait to see someone outside of Chicago. Miss u
Aubs (2:23pm): You miss MY ASS? Aww, yeah, ditto.
Him (2:32pm): I do…
Aubs (2:39pm): That's just because I spilled salsa on my gut.

…and the best one, wherein it's evident that math is hard, even for engineers. Note: he was flying back from Chicago, which is two hours ahead of San Francisco.

Him (3ish pm): Want to get sushi when I land?
Aubs (3ish pm): What time? I'm soooooooo in bed right now
Him (3ish pm): 10. Come on!!!! It's 5 for u. B there soon.
Aubs (3ish pm, trying - futilely - to make the math work here): You said – huh? What? If you get home at 10pm sf time it is actually 10pm. You're smoking crack.

Screw TextsFromLastNight.com – I'm sitting on a goldmine here: BingeDrinkingOnTheSabbath.org
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Bay to Breakers: Why every true San Franciscan owns a costume box

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The unwashed masses 

Bay to Breakers is a San Francisco tradition. For those of you not familiar with it, it's a 12k that spans from one end of the city to the other. But unlike traditional races, this one has a distinct San Francisco-ey appeal (and I'm not only talking about the wafting marijuana clouds that you'll inevitably walk through during that day.) It's arguably the biggest party of the year.

Organizers had threatened to kill the fun this year, saying that floats would be prohibited, and no drinking was involved. That's akin to cancelling Christmas to a 4-year old and telling him there's no Santa Claus. I AM NOT EXAGGERATING. I don't think anyone was trying to kill the fun, just limit the inordinate amounts of trash that the city pays for since only a small portion of the thousands of attendees actually pay the $40+ race fee (that helps fund the cleanup efforts.) But as race day drew near, they lifted some of the restrictions, and floats were allowed (only at the end), alcohol was ok & only kegs were prohibited (but basically just needed to be disguised) and even though there were reports of a 'no nudity' clause this year, nary 39 minutes had passed before I saw my first genuine micropenis. This is a frightening animal in the wild, I shit you not.

Alas.

This year – as with the last two – I chose to participate in this spectacle-cum-soirée. Donning my ball gown & adding a few accoutrements, I emerged as Miss California, replete with visible bosom. (Well, slightly.)

At our spot at Alamo Square watching the 'runners'

It was a long day, but as a veteran, I knew the importance of pacing. And hydration. And food…oh yes, I give credit where it's due, and Little Chihuahua quesadilla kept me motorin', Sister Christian style. Well, that and a mid-day mininap, after which I heeded the call of my friend Andrew and headed back out to dance my booty off at a nearby bar. It wasn't his persuasive words that coerced me; rather, it was the promise of his famous hotpants. And Andrew, as always, delivers.

Andrew can sport gold lamé like it's nobody's business

Friends, I think we've found my Christmas Card. Now, how to explain *this* one to Mom & Dad is another story entirely.
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On Blogging, Twittering and Sperm

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I think one reason I'm not writing on this site as much anymore is that I know and am considering my audience. I'm self-censoring without wanting to, somehow caring that I could be judged, which is inherently removed from smaller posts (of the 140 character variety; i.e., Twitter) or photos. It's a lot easier to justify the lack of interaction or response when I'm writing a sentence or two than it is when I compose something longer. Something of substance. It's the literary version of gaming theory, and my Tweets – although proliferated more widely – are the prosaic 'cheap' sperm to a much more 'costly' blog post egg.

And there, Dad, is how my genetics degree still comes in handy.
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Depiction of my gratitude: 2009 (so far) in review

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You've been busy. I've been busy. Maybe we've even been gettin' busy together. Regardless, words are few and far between (at least on this here website) but there's photos aplenty. So here's at least 10,000 of 'em, in visual form.

I rang in the new year with good friends…
The best photo of the night 

Went to LA. Hung out with LaVar Burton. (And yes, sang the Reading Rainbow song.)
3220506727_725b38733d_b

Went to Sundance.

Me at Sundance


Went to the Inauguration.

Barack Obama at the Inaugural Bipartisan Dinner


Donned some dashing footwear at the Inaugural Ball.

Sacca examines my choice of footwear


Ran a 5k.

Success!!!


Went to LA again. Got all fancified.

The crew at the ball


Went to the Dominican Republic. Got all UN-fancified.

Moi


Threw a REALLY big party at SXSW

Looking down on the masses at The Bigg Digg Shindigg


Celebrated St. Patrick's Day.

At St. Patrick's Last Stand


Hit the slopes.

View from the top of Squaw Valley


Went to a Giants game. Went to another Giants game.

Giants Game

 

Went to NYC for a much-needed long weekend. Only took two photos.

Ghost-eye Hams 


Threw a picnic.

Picnicing in the park


Lila came too.
LilaBelleathepark

Of course, that doesn't tell the whole story, but when is it ever fully told?  You can't photograph elation, excitement, anticipation. That feeling in your stomach where you know something amazing is about to happen. Confusion. 
Frustration. 
Reassurance. 
Being inspired. Being humbled. 
Failing. Trying something new. Failing again. 
Trusting it all. 
Living it all.
And, overwhelmingly and without exception, being humbled & overwhelmingly grateful for it all.