Prime sirloin au poivre with root vegetable hash at Mistral last night. It was the most delicious steak I ever had. (Taken with instagram)
There’s a picture of us as kids at a softball field in Salem. My dad was playing in a company softball game while Rory, Casey, Ryan, and I were running around. (And I was drinking as much soda as humanly possible before returning to the soda-free zone that was 8 Temple St.) During some point, the four kids posed with Dad. Three lily-white, fair-haired boys and our little Korean sister with bad eighties short-shorts and sneakers standing in front of Stevo rocking the Juan Valdez of all mustaches. Coupled with his dark tan, it looked like he was a child trafficker standing alongside three gringos and some random Asian girl he picked up along the way.
This photo is ingrained in my mind and reminds me of the fact that no matter how hard I try, I will always be unable to grow that kind of mustache. You can see the results of not having shaved my stache since Friday. It’s an ugly picture that reveals an ugly truth: I will never be that guy with the awesome facial hair. Right now I’ve got this peezy patch of hair that resembles connect-the-dots. It grows in uneven patches, like colonies separated from the motherland. But there is one thing that keeps me going. It’s the fact that deep-down within me, I carry that mustache gene. It’s there lying dormant, but it will rise again.
You’d be surprised how many hicks live in Maryland. (Taken with instagram)
Not having hot water or heat on a day like this makes me feel like I’m living on the frontier. Now I just need a coonskin hat…
I decided it was finally time to write on a regular basis. A book I’ve been reading has led me to consider what kind of “great” project I would work on — an original idea that’s all my own, novel, and well worth my time.
I don’t know what form this writing will take, but I’m going to do my best to write more informally, conversationally, than I have in the past. I don’t have a reader in mind, other than myself. But I hope that someone else might find this mildly entertaining.
I don’t want to lose any good ideas that pass through my head and are too often lost in the same breath. I don’t know yet what it will become, but I think it’s a half-decent start.
Talk to you soon.