But there have been things… small things. Things I’d like to tell you about but just haven’t had the time to. So I’d like to give a quick summary in hopes you’ll be all like, “whoa, I want to hear more about THAT” and then you’d bug me to write more until I literally have no choice but to just take a week off of work and write the hell out of this blog and we all feel better about the whole thing.

So… I’ve gotten way into salsa. I ate mushrooms and didn’t hate them. I’ve been sick three times. I’m really sick right now. I’ve fainted once. I’ve gone on two internet dates. One of these ended with my date calling me “interesting.” I’ve been asked to go on an internet date to a pet cemetary. My inability to dance with women has been revealed as the source of a “sexual energy crisis” in the city of San Francisco. I took motorcycle lessons and was the BEST IN CLASS. I don’t have my motorcycle license yet. I’m compiling lists of good shit from 2008. I’ve gotten a-okay at Rock Band drumming. I’m now intimately familiar with music by offensively boring bands like Boys Like Girls and Metro Station and have had to listen to Circus more than should be required by any human being. I was licked on my jaw by the drunkest woman who ever drunked. I’ve been pushed aside by grown adults for cupcakes. It turns out that the pretty girls take the 41. I make the messiest burrito in Whole Foods history. I almost never get enough sleep. My roommate puts together a mean Thanksgiving. I miss the Get Back like craaaazy. I’ve come dangerously close to being homesick. I miss my co-workers and my buddies. I’m excited to fly home (12/18!).

I think that covers most of it for right now. I’m late for bed, PER USUAL.

That’s The Smashing Pumpkins (in quotes) and Billy Corgan’s “good friend,” Josh f’ing Groban, performing “Disarm” at the Bridge School Benefit. I was there, witnessing first hand the horrified reaction of thousands of Gen-X’ers as Groban waltzed out in a freshly ironed flannel and belted out what now sounded like a tune in a shitty musical about being really sad. For some reason, the only thing I could think about was how Layne Staley would have probably stabbed Groban in the neck before letting him sing “I Stay Away” on stage with him. What a nightmare.

I was also made to sit through an entire set by Groban and another by Jack Johnson, the boringest member of the Frat Rock Holy Triumvirate. One unexpected discovery was made at this concert, however: Norah Jones is the woman of my dreams. Cute as all get out and better at performing Wilco songs than Wilco themselves (true story… they, too, were pretty awful). Have a gander:

Having worked at the same company for nearly eight years, I’d forgotten that job hunting can be a pretty long process. Phone interviews turn into face-to-face meetings which turn into CEO meetings which turn into team meetings which turn into decision-making and a practice in patience. And as the weeks go by, panic starts to set in. What starts as a fast and furious journey through a new city quickly becomes a game of Sit At Home Always For Fear of Spending Money.

So, there hasn’t been much to update. My time at home has been a mixed bag. I’ve never been without work for this long and have felt my brain slowing down to a halt. I’ve spent a fair amount of time becoming irrationally incensed over Sarah Palin. I biked across the Golden Gate Bridge and finally visited Fisherman’s Wharf. Bought some Levi’s. Tried Jack in the Box. Walked a lot. Exercised very little. Went to see a Giants’ game. But, ultimately, I just read Boing Boing a whole bunch.

But today, I landed my job and it’s time to become an actual, functioning, social human being again. I will be starting at the end of next week which should allow me a full 8 days of carefree enjoyment of life. I hope to take advantage of it. First stop: burrito hunting in the Mission.  Wish me luck.

Today was Sunday. My only plan, aside from hours of FREAKING OUT, was to catch The Dark Knight in IMAX at the Franklin Institute. Having lived near the Art Museum and dated a girl who went to Moore, I used to spend a lot of time in and around Logan Square and have always thought it to be one of my favorite areas in the city. But a move to West Philly and a bitter breakup put a bit of distance between me and this little chunk of the city and it’s been years since I’ve done much more than passed through.

So my bus ride to and my walk around the Institute combined with my highly unstable emotional state (FREAKING OUT) made me really nostalgic (what a surprise). Had the movie not been absolutely amazing, I imagine my mind would have wandered around the square to the local pizza place where I’d often picked up fries for a girlfriend stuck working on her final in her studio.

But leaving the theater, I began to worry again… about my cats, and about maybe never DJing again, and about leaving friends, and about not having a job after working so hard to get the one I have. For diversion, I turned on my iPod and set it to random. Then this happened: The Sundays’ “Goodbye” and “Leave This City” play. Back to back.

As this is happening, I’ve made my way outside to find myself underneath the weirdest yellow/gray sky I’ve ever seen. It had been raining and the clouds were threatening to just unleash hail and rain and lightning and other objects unforeseen by Hurricane Schwartz. But the sun was also fighting for face time. And then I saw this:

 

 

Sure, I’m desperate to catch signs that say, “relax, you’re not a dummy.” But when two situation-appropriate songs from one of your favorite bands ever randomly play (on the day after which they’re named!) and you see one of the most beautiful rainbows ever, it’s hard not to start feeling like things might just work out.

Goodbye, Philly. It’s definitely time to leave this city behind me.