In 2008, after five months of solo travel through Asia, I met up with Ozge on her home turf. (If you can travel with someone who is host, guide and friend together, I urge you to do so.) There followed a near month of highlights, as we ate and drank our way across Turkey, starting in Istanbul. It should always be nighttime, and we should always, all of us, be at rooftop restaurants near Istiklal, having meze with raki.
Kirra Miller is a 13-month-old from Lake Park, Florida. She's my friend Cory's niece, and daughter of Justin and Amber. She was hit by a car on May 18th, 2007 as her mother towed her and a friend in a bike trailer. She's in critical condition at St. Mary's Hospital in West Palm Beach. Her family asked me to set up a site where they could update people on her condition.
Update: the site was down for a while; it's back up now.
bring back email
I miss email. IM has replaced it for most of my online social interaction. If you chat to someone for five minutes every day or two, there doesn't seem to be much point in spending an hour writing an update on the last month of your life. I miss using friends as an excuse to sit and reflect.
We are back!
Samsaric's first gig in a year will be at some pool party in Hollywood this Saturday. My goal is to get someone in the pool. And to slip some grimey UK stuff in behind some hip-hop. Big up my agent rk.
Ethan's Top Five Frustrations Women Express about Men They've Begun to Date
"5. Men often ride along in relationships with one hand on the door handle. This fearfulness of momentum leads them to perform all manner of foolishness, including dangerous stuntman-like dives out of high-speed romances as well as more comical leaps out of relationships that have yet to leave the driveway."
So on this page I read about how 50 Cent is apparently a big Talib Kweli fan, interviewed him for XXL and everything, and I'm like WTF? so I Google 50 cent talib kweli and end up at Jason's paper which is pretty fucked up. O, and somebody on the ilm thread mentioned Hua, too. Weeeird.
This weekend I visited my friend Charlie -- Charlie's been a friend since the 5th grade -- and his fiancee. While I was there, I found out I get to help plan his bachelor party.
I wonder if the 1945 edition of Emily Post's Etiquette I just got on eBay will have anything to say on the matter. This is going to be a rigidly correct affair from top to bottom, you understand.
The party's in August, and to be honest I'm a little nervous about the whole thing. Mostly, I want to strike the right tone -- I want the party to be memorable and story-worthy, but I don't want to do anything that would make Charlie too uncomfortable to enjoy himself. And, damn, it's part of the wedding of one of my oldest and dearest friends in the whole wide friggin' world, I want it to be perfect.
Lauren, for what it's worth, if the Times is to be believed, Mr. Merritt has trouble relating to people on the most basic of levels; he's practically autistic, an idiot savant. But you do like your rock stars misanthropic, don't you?