Dear future natalie,

Today you swam in the ocean for hours. Even though the current was scary, you didn't panic and successfully dove under big waves to avoid injury. It was such a great day at the beach and you found exciting peace in the ocean. It sounds like a contradiction, but peace is exciting yo!!

You were sad to leave after just spending the afternoon in bliss. While your mom and her friends were preparing for happy hour, you were preparing for the drive home. It was depressing. It physically hurt you to leave. You need more than an afternoon. Remember this pain next summer so that you plan ahead with a Monday off of work, dummy.

Thanks in advance,

natalie of august 23, 2009

Dear Natalie Pep Talk.

That feeling of accomplishment is pretty sweet. Sore muscles indicating future strength, the idea that you sweated out some nasty shit that's been building up in your body. Working out feels GOOD. It's getting there that's the challenge...

Coming home from work, you're finding excuses to stay at home and maybe take a nap. Abandoning your goals to get in shape and maybe shrink parts of your body. Because you're tired. Because you have a headache. Because you have oh so much to accomplish at home. Who has time for physical self improvement when life is so busy?

Fuck. all. that. shit. If you listen to excuses, you'd never get anything done.

You tell your man that it's his turn to cook dinner and you get your tubby ass to the gym where you will polish the guns, ride a bike to nowhere and regret stepping foot into a yoga class. You will do it because you will feel super when it's over. You'll do it because your body NEEDS THIS. If you don't do it, you will be a lazy lethargic slob with more jiggly parts than solid parts.

You don't have kids, you only work 8 hours a day, you have no excuse. Good job getting your butt to the gym today, but don't you dare think about bailing tomorrow or Thursday!

Produce Man

Thursdays are fun because the Farmers' Market sets up their little stands and sells produce to the fine people of Fairmount. It feels good to eat food that was grown within an hours drive of your house. You can ask the farmer guy from New Jersey if he sprayed these particular crops with pesticides and if so, he'll tell you what chemicals were involved as you nod your head concentration in your eyes pretending you know what chemicals are good and bad.

The only part of Farmers Market Shopping that's tricky is choosing your produce stand of preference. Two of the stands have cheap prices and beautiful looking produce. But what they're lacking is an attractive farm lad peddling produce.

Maybe it's just me. But I'm partial to one particular stand because of the somewhat shy farmer boy with hazel eyes for the simple fact that (even as a woman who loves her boyfriend deeply) I like to look at a pretty face and blush from time to time. What girl doesn't?

We have a brief conversation about vegetables and what to do with them, I give him money, his hand brushes against my hand when he gives me the change and he says, "See you next week." There's nothing wrong with innocent swooning.

The downside of this is that I'm literally paying for the interaction. On several occasions, I've purchased produce that I was pretty sure wouldn't be consumed. Weird looking carrots, tiny zucchini, potatoes- I wasn't planning to cook these items, I just made a purchase for the sake of supporting the attractive produce peddler. I make my small purchase and then do my real shopping where I get a bag full of locally grown shit for under $10.

It just occurred to me that I'm exploiting the attractive produce peddler... or is he exploiting me?

Boys Love Needy Girlfriends.

You have your period. You can't stop sweating because it's 95 degrees outside. You went to the gym and have swamp ass. Even after the cold shower, you continue to sweat. You don't have any clean clothes so you throw on shorts that you bought but you never wore.

You'd kill for a compliment at this moment.

So you say, "do these shorts look stupid?" And he looks you over and with uncertainty says, "nah."

So you say, "Well do they look ok?" And he looks you over and says, "Yeah. They look ok. They're not sexy or anything. They're just shorts."

They're not sexy or anything. What you want to here.. what you NEED to hear is, "You make those shorts look good" or some corny bullshit along those lines. So you keep digging and digging for compliments in an obscure and extremely annoying way. In a desperate move, you refer to the fact that nothing looks sexy on you because you're overweight and can't stop sweating. And that's when he stops listening.

Although it's important to you, at the time, to hear some sort of compliment- it's a good reminder that it doesn't matter how someone else sees you. All you're doing is digging for validation about how you want to feel about the shell that holds your insides together. It's retarded you can't get a compliment out of a dude, but shit- does it matter? Are you happy with the hard work you've been doing? The healthy nutritious food you've been pumping into your body? It's time to shut up and praise yourself instead of begging for someone else to praise you.

But seriously though, dudes should compliment their chicks at LEAST once a week. Compliments should not be about tits, ass or vagina.

Oh hai!

In an effort to salvage the handful of beer scribblings I did from a website that is being shut down, I copy pasta'd them to here. Now they'll be here forever right? Is it ridiculous to have a copy of something on your home computer, work computer and two web sites? I do this with pictures too. I'm afraid my computer will crash and I'll lose the 1,000 photos that make good memories. So I need to put them on photobucket. And snapfish. And what the hell, I'll upload them to facebook too.

Packratting on the internet.

My fridge is packed with exciting new beers. Beers I've never tried. I think I have a replacement notebook to write notes about beer. Is this it? Am I going to pick up the old hobby? Things are extremely busy at work so I won't be able to do the extensive research that I could get away with before. This means more time at home sitting behind a computer.

It sounds like some bullshit right?

I dunno. We'll see how it goes. I'm happy to be excited about beer again. I feel like it's been a while since I drank something that gave me an oralgasm. I guess with summer time being filled with pale ales, ipa's, wheats and all the plain stuff- I'm missing the crazy oak barrled dark shit.

Anyway. It's bed time.

Schnieder Aventinus

Have you ever sat on a waterfront deck, with a blanket wrapped around your shoulders? You breathe in the air and it’s like the first breath you’ve ever taken? The aromas of the world filter through your nose one by one giving you time to appreciate everything that’s going on. For this moment you feel what could best be described as a moment of zen that you never want to end.
The Schneider Aventinus is the waterfront deck zen experience of beer. In Philadelphia, it’s apparently only on tap at two bars (or so the fellow with the black eye tells me) and Devil’s Den happens to be one of them. The stranger with the black eye says to me, “You need to order this beer. If you don’t like it, I’ll buy it off of you.”

Not sure what to make of the description, “This is a very intense wheat doppelbock with a complex spicy chocolate-like aroma with a hint of banana and raisins,” I went for it if only to experience this banana business. To my surprise, the hint of bananas was more prevalent than I expected. It was amazing. It was Christmas morning. It was that remarkable sunset that you still remember years after it took place. It was cuddling after sex (if that’s your thing). Schneider Aventinus was the zen moment of my beer life.

At 8.2% ABV, you’re graced with the feeling that you’re getting your money’s worth when drinking this 102 year old beer (created in 1907). After getting to know this beer, I’ve learned that the banana flavor does not in fact come from bananas. The banana and spice aroma is the result of the strain of yeast used during fermentation. The complexity of the Aventinus thrills me.

After such a profound enjoyment of this banana and raisin business, I had to wonder if it was just a one night stand.

Three days later, I went to a Rogue beer tasting at Jose Pistola’s. After the tasting, I was faced with making the decision of ordering a beer. And there it was- Schneider Aventinus staring at me from the menu. But this time, it was in a bottle. Could the bottle live up to the tap version? Will it ruin my memory of such a fantastic beer experience? After realizing I was overthinking this decision, I decided to go for it- as did everyone else at my table.
I’m also happy to report that this one night stand with Schneider Aventinus has grown into a casual love affair that will be taken slow and in moderation as to not spoil the experiences we share.

Southern Tier Choklat Stout

In a world where chocolate is cheaply made and mass manufactured, it’s easy to not be “big on chocolate.” It’s not until you sink your teeth into a high quality no bullshit hunk of chocolate that you can fully appreciate and understand where chocoholics are coming from. After trying the fancy pants type of chocolate, you can understand why Mayans referred to cocoa as the “food of the gods.”

I won’t go so far as to refer to the Southern Tier Choklat Stout as the “beer of the gods,” but I’m a few sips away from doing just that.

I had my eye on the Choklat as an after dinner beverage at Devil’s Den. After a flight of Belgian ales, the 11% ABV had me wary of ordering this magical glass of stout, but what would a Friday morning be without a bit of a hangover?

The appearance of this beverage was intimidating. I like to think it poured like an oil slick and that it could power a small vehicle or lawn mower. When you put your nose to the glass, I highly suggest you close your eyes and tell everyone around you to shut the hell up for a second. When you take your first sip, I suggest you do it alone in bed with lit candles and some Barry White on the stereo. Southern Tier has done an exceptional job of creating a beer you want to do it to.
In addition to chocolate malt, Southern Tier added bittersweet Belgian chocolate to this brew. Without knowing this information ahead of time, you figure out that real chocolate was used before you’ve even taken your first sip. The balance of bitter and sweet is perfect. It turns out that chocolate has been used in beverage form since ancient times. It’s ancient times that have inspired the creation of this stout as I learned from the Southern Tier website, “The Popol Vuh, the sacred book of the Maya, unfolds a complex web of mystery around a beverage known as xocoatl (ch-co-atle). At Southern Tier, we’re not surprised that hieroglyphs of the ancient Maya depict chocolate being poured for rulers and gods.”

It’s been said that chocolate releases certain neural transmitters in the brain inducing a sense of euphoria. This explains the Mayan obsession with the cocoa bean and how it was so valuable it could be used as currency. I never experienced the so called euphoria that came along with eating certain types of chocolate…. Until I drank this beer. I seldom use the word “oralgasm” but it seems like the perfect time to throw it out there (ok, it’s a lie. I use the word oralgasm every other day). If you‘re in any way a fan of chocolate you need to try this beer. If you’re not a stout person- well shit, even if you’re not a beer person, you’re likely to enjoy a glass of Choklat Stout the same way you enjoy a cup of hot chocolate after playing in the snow.

Archiving more beer writings: "Don't Fear the Peppers"

I can remember it like yesterday, being a wee lass sitting at a pizza shop preparing to put salt on my pizza (please don’t judge me). It never occurred to me that both sugar and salt could be placed neatly together on a table at a pizza shop. You can imagine my surprise when I took a bite out of my pizza and the sweet taste of processed sugar hit the sides of my tongue. It was an effective way for me to stop salting my pizza for several years.

The same type of situation took place at the beer store the night before Wingbowl (Philly’s excuse to drink beer at 5 am on a Friday while fat men gorge on hot wings while strippers cheer them on). I’d hopped out of the car and ran in with the hopes of grabbing a coffee stout for our 4 AM pre-gaming and a Rogue Red Ale to enjoy for the evening. Knowing what I wanted, I grabbed the red bottle and off I went without first admiring the bottle.

I was anxious to get down with this beer as Rouge’s Red Ale has been a favorite of mine this year. Opening the beer in the kitchen, I was hit with the surprising scent of… jalapeño peppers. Upon further inspection, I realized I had not in fact grabbed a Rogue Red but instead picked up a Rogue Chipotle Ale. Perhaps Rogue designed the bottle the same as the Red to trick people into purchasing the Chipotle Ale- Never mind the fact that the Red has yellow on the bottle and is not as similar to the Chipotle bottle design as I first thought.

Honestly, I would have never bought a bottle of Chipotle Ale on my own. I would maybe try a small taste it if it’s on tap at a bar, but that’s about it. But as I stood in the kitchen, with an open 22 ounce beer, I knew what I had to do.

It poured a clear golden copper color and the aroma of peppers ballooned around the glass. I nervously took a sip (I say nervous because I expected it to taste terrible) and was surprised that the hops came through the peppers and it was evident that I was in fact drinking a beer and not a glass of pepper juice. The 5% ABV made it an easy beer to drink. Slightly malty, slightly smoky. The finish, however, was all pepper.

The side of the bottle explains that you’re drinking a beer that has been “delicately spiced with smoked jalapeno peppers.” With “Chipotle” in the name of your beer, you expect it to punch you in the nose and have a knife fight in your throat. Rogue did pretty well keeping things “delicate” in the bottle and complex in your mouth.

It took half of the bottle for me to decide I like this beer. At first it was just weird to me. So weird that I had to continually sip it to comprehend what was happening to my senses. But as soon as the Mexican food arrived (we’d coincidentally ordered Mexican that night), Rogue Chipotle and I were friends. Unlike my traumatizing experience with the sugar on the pizza, Rogue has broken my apprehension of beer brewed with vegetables.

Archiving my Beer Writings...

Philadelphia Brewing Company- Coffee Joe Porter
What is it about drinking a beer before noon? There’s a feeling of independence, freedom, and/or defiance that comes along with every sip. Growing up, I got the impression that individuals who drink before noon would be considered “alcoholics.” What I learned later in life is that alcoholics continue to drink for the rest of the day. Beer enthusiasts, on the other hand, have a beer or two with brunch and continue the day with mostly normal functionality.

But still, the stigma of pre-noon drinking has resonated with me causing an ever so slight sense of guilt when I sip on a beer at brunch. It’s like eating cake for dinner- It tastes so good… but you’re pretty sure your mother would never approve.

A few brewing companies have helped break the stigma of morning beer guilt by releasing coffee based porters. Philadelphia Brewing Company and Flying Fish have altered my brunch beer drinking experience, not forever, but at least until the taps run dry.

In January of this year, Philadelphia Brewing Company released a limited supply of Coffee Joe Porter (5% ABV). Personally, I prefer my coffee with soy milk, raw sugar, and some vanilla powder. I gleefully ruin good coffee by making it sweet- For this reason, I was apprehensive about how my taste buds were going to react to this PBC concoction. But I asked myself rhetorically, “Just how strong could the coffee flavor be in this beer?”

The answer, simply put, is: VERY. I figured a coffee flavored beer would involve “hints” of coffee- Coffee Joe Porter tastes like a cool glass of high quality coffee touched with alcohol. The 75 pounds of Peruvian Free Trade coffee used in the brewing process dominates the beer in the best way possible.

Does your mom still not approve of you drinking a beer in the morning even if it’s made with coffee? What if you told your mom that the coffee used in this Porter was purchased from Fornesca Café, a cafe created for the “purpose of providing medical and material aid to the people of Central America?” If anything, this should be a valid excuse to order a 2nd glass, am I right?

Although I enjoy the PBC Coffee Joe Porter, I have not yet become a fan of this new(ish) brewing company’s regular beers. The Porter is the first PBC beer that I’ve wanted to pack my refrigerator with, but it’s not available in bottles. C’est la vie.

Flying Fish Imperial Espresso Porter-
To fill the void created by PBC, I bought a four pack of Flying Fish’s Imperial Espresso Porter. Only available in limited supply from January 15th and April 1st, I won’t have the opportunity to over do it with this beer- although I’d very much like to. One significant difference that should be noted: Flying Fish Imperial Espresso Porter packs a 8% ABV and you’re probably better off drinking just one or two.

The complexity in this Porter is perhaps the reason I prefer Flying Fish over PBC in the coffee porter department. Roasted coffee, licorice, and toffee tickle your nose. Creamy coffee, chocolate and a twinge of fruitiness (?) paint your tongue. This poor attempt at poetically describing the Imperial Espresso Porter is the result of bliss at first sip. I am perhaps even more in love with this beer because generally speaking, I’m a fan of Flying Fish’s seasonal beers and it delights me that they could release such a perfect winter time beer.

With spring right around the corner, I’m sad to see these dark delicious coffee porters go. I’ll remember them fondly and hope to meet them again next winter. In the meantime, I’m preparing my taste buds for the season of farmhouse, hefe weiss, and various other styles that can in no way be compared to an oil slick. *sigh*

"Have you lost weight?"

When people ask about the shrinking of your body, you want to kiss them on the mouths. Especially after months and MONTHS and MOOONNNNTHS of working out and eating right (or just saying you eat right).

About fucking time, is what I say.

Diary FAIL

It's ok that I declared I'd be keeping a daily diary and never wrote again. It's what I do.  I make decisions to do stuff and never follow through. It's my "thing." My "schtick," if that's how you spell it. 

I did, however, keep a journal of my happenings while on vacation.  It's old school and written by hand. In cursive. With an ink pen. But I look forward to reading it in the future so I can remember the seals, volcano, dolphins, floating, boats, 2 million dollar mansions, and being bff's with kids. 

I am pretty awesome with kids, by the way.  Mostly because I'm a big child, I'm sure.  But with Amanda's family, I hung out with the kids more than adults.  Kids do fun shit like double dog dare you to jump off the dock or convince you not to be afraid of frisbee sized jellyfish.  Whereas adults think kids are crazy and fearless. 

I may have come home from vacation harboring less anxiety than when I left. 

So now I'm back to business. The business of obtaining a regular flow of turd. My mission is to make a hardy poop at least once a day. I'm hoping to accomplish this with the use of probiotics, 1 serving of leafy greens a day, lots of vegetables and whole grains.  I want to poop like a champ! No more of this rabbit pellet poo shit. That's too much work. It's time for hearty shits. 

Does this qualify as a "diary" entry?  I think it does. 

It's diary time!

My friend Lauren and I decided we should keep daily diaries of some sort. Even if it's just something little.  I don't like to write by hand so here is my diary.  

What happened to reviewing beer? I lost my beer notebook, that's what happened.  With my lost notebook, I've lost my inspiration.  i'll get it back. I also lost my travel notebook that has entries from every time I've been in an airport in the past 4 years. 

You can't lose these things on the internet. 

Although sometimes I wish we could.... 

speaking of lose-  vomited all over boyfriend's car sunday. i'm having flashbacks that make me feel nauseous but one good thing was having the reminder that this guy is a good boyfriend. he cleaned up my puke. chunks of crab meat, salad with ranch dressing, and some seafood bisque- all over his passenger side door. And he still kissed me goodnight after cleaning up that shit. 

He's a keeper alright. 

ok.

It's been a while.  Does anyone read this?  Does it matter?  No.  I'm going to write on here anyway.  But not yet.  For right now, I'm just declaring that soon enough I'll be purging my thoughts onto this blog.  I have a fridge that is housing some interesting beers so I'll have something to talk about soon enough.  I'm also going to start eating lunch outside.  This can surely open the door for unusual interactions with homeless people or dogs. 

So long for now.... 

You're 28 and you can make your own decisions.

I opted to take the day after my birthday off from work.  With no plans prepared, it's easy to become lazy.  Which is why I took at nap 2 hours after I woke up.  

One thing that always excited me was the idea of sitting at a coffee shop for hours with a laptop for typing, notebook for writing, or a good book for reading.  Having all the time in the world to do not much of anything. 

I packed my bag with the essentials that always appeared in my fantasy day at the coffee shop: my lap top, notebook, and book about tasting beer and made my way too Mugshots.  To my surprise, it was packed.  There was nowhere to sit and the guy behind me commented on the lack of seats when the cashier asked, "Is this for here or to go?"  We discussed all the preparation we made before leaving our respective homes and the disappointment that we'd have to go elsewhere. 

As I placed my order, a table for two opened up.  I threw my bag down but only after giving ample time for the guy behind me to grab it.  I'm such an awesome person, I offered for him to sit down event though the table was small. 

Two strangers sitting at a table.  One writing a paper on national security and its impact on the drug war.  The other, looking up beer recipes.  The story pretty much ends there.  My plan wasn't to be social at the coffee shop, but human interaction was probably beneficial.  I'd sat at home mind numbingly perusing the internet for most of the morning, so yeah... 

It's funny, the dialogue that goes through your head while interacting with people and when the dialogue spills out into the air... with no filter.  

yes. today has been good so far.  Now the decision of all decisions needs to be made:  Go to yoga at 5:15 or go to the bar now to watch baseball.  Can't do both.  But both options are equally appealing in very different ways.... 

Lancaster Brewing Company: The Pearl Jam of Beers

You know how "Ten" is arguably the best album released by Pearl Jam? And how the release of "Vs." was met with staggering reviews and not immediately a favorite new release for existing Pearl Jam fans? And how "Vitology" presented some of the worst songs Pearl Jam ever made causing a number of people to just give up on new Pearl Jam albums?

Lancaster Brewing Company is the Pearl Jam of beers. Not really knowing what they offer, Lancaster Brewing Company reeled me in with an enjoyable Milk Stout. A talk, dark and handsome beer- a perfect beverage on a cold as shit type of day. Drinking this beverage, you think to yourself, "Gee, I wonder what other beers Lancaster has to offer." And this is how you find yourself buying a sampler case to bring to a party. The only problem is, besides the Milk Stout, there's not really anything left that's worth while.

It could just be me. I don't dig a sweet beer. I didn't expect the "Amish Four Grain Pale Ale" to be sweet so I was especially annoyed with this beer. The website describes it as a "multi-grain pale ale summons the sweetness of oats, the complexity of rye, and the smoothness of malted wheat, balanced by a generous dry hopping of imported, noble Saaz hops." What a waste of some noble hops.

Lancaster's IPA, "Hop Hog" was OK. Not amazing, not wonderful, it was a beer that you can drink and be OK with. Maybe my disappointment has to do with my drinking a variety of amazing IPA's over the weekend. Maybe I was still pissed off about that Pale Ale. But either way, the Hop Hog is simply alright.

Moving forward, I won't write off Lancaster Brewing Company as a means for decent brew. I'm hopeful that their seasonal beers can help me forget about this disappointment that can only be compared to listening to Vs. and Vitology when I was 16.

Schneider Aventinus: The Waterfront Deck of Beers

Have you ever sat on a waterfront deck, with a blanket wrapped around your shoulders? You breathe in the air and it’s like the first breath you’ve ever taken? The scents of the world filter through your nose one by one giving you time to appreciate everything that’s going on. For this moment you feel what could best be described as a moment of zen that you never want to end.

The Schneider Aventinus is the waterfront deck zen experience of beer. In Philadelphia, it’s apparently only on tap at two bars (or so the fellow with the black eye tells me) and Devil’s Den happens to be one them. Black Eye (we’ll call him) says to me, “You need to order this beer. If you don’t like it, I’ll buy it off of you.”

Not sure what to make of the description, “This is a very intense wheat doppelbock with a complex spicy chocolate-like aroma with a hint of banana and raisins,” I went for it if only to experience this banana business. To my surprise, the hint of bananas was more prevalent than I expected. It was amazing. It was Christmas morning. It was that remarkable sunset that you still remember years after you witnessed it. It was cuddling after sex (if that’s your thing). Schneider Aventinus was my zen moment of my beer life.

At 8.2% ABV, you're graced with the feeling that you're getting your money's worth when drinking this 102 year old beer (created in 1907). But after such a profound enjoyment of this banana and raisin business, I had to wonder if it's just a one night stand.

After a Rogue beer tasting at Jose Pistola's, I was faced with making the decision of ordering a beer. And there it was. Schneider Aventinus staring at me from the menu. But this time, it was in a bottle. Could the bottle live up to the tap version? After realizing I was overthinking this decision, I decided to go for it. And so did everyone else at my table.

After getting to know this beer, I've learned that the banana flavor does not in fact come from bananas. The banana and spice aroma is the result of the strain of yeast used during fermentation. The complexity of the Aventinus thrills me. I'm also happy to report that this one night stand with Schneider Aventinus has grown into a casual love affair that will be taken slow and in moderation as to not spoil the expereiences we share.

Southern Tier Old Man Winter: Like a Suprising Fart

Some farts have the simple scent of stale air leaving your body. Other farts, are unique and will surprise you and linger for a bit. You keep breathing through your nose, trying to figure out this smell. It’s not necessarily bad, but you’re just not used to it coming out of your body. So you keep on breathing through your nose until the smell goes away.

The Southern Tier Old Man Winter is the unique fart of winter beers. A “copper color, caramel malt, subtle hops, toasty fruits, and yests” is mostly accurate- except for the fact that the hops are far from subtle.

How is this beer like a unique fart? The bite of the hops doesn’t go away. It lingers for a few minutes after every sip. It’s not necessarily a bad taste, but for a winter beer to be so hoppy, it’s just so different you can’t comprehend this bitterness weighing down on your tongue. Much like the unique fart that you can’t stop inhaling because it’s so different, you take another sip in an effort to wrap your mind around the hoppiness of this winter ale.

From the Southern Tier website, “Because of its high alcohol content, Old Man is a heady brew that encourages sipping and pondering its essential richness.” Pondering indeed.

I just wrote a bunch of shit about how I'm going to start writing about beer for fun. And the internet is an asshole so none of it saved.

But in case you were wondering, I'm going to start writing about beer for fun.

word up.

Ouch, My Eyes.

I thought perhaps there was something wrong with my eyes. And maybe I was right. But today was a strange day of sorts. A bit exhausted, a bit lazy, and a bit introspective... it was a perfect day to go people watch at the Art Museum steps.

When it's not too cold or too hot, you can spend hours watching people on the art museum steps. One of the best views in the city and a prominent backdrop in a fictional sports hero's story. The number of tourists... well they're probably not all tourists... that run up the steps and do the "rocky dance" is astounding.

We lost count somewhere around 30.

You could make a drinking game out of the phenomenon. But you probably wouldn't be able to tote around enough alcohol to drink everytime someone runs up the stairs and takes a picture with their arms punching the air or reaching the sky. Especially when you get groups of 10 or more. Or wedding parties.

The best way to describe today, as I tried to do all day long, is that I was really enjoying looking at things. I was enjoying the way my brain was processing information. Instead of processing a red car as a "red car," it was processed as a "red car clashing brilliantly against the green grass complimented by the Simpsonesque clouds in the sky and oh look those people playing soccer are enjoying themselves a great deal."

I'm not on drungs. Just overwelmed with subconscious observation.

On a side note. The Eagles won today and they're up against the Giants next week. I look forward to sports induced anxiety next sunday.

deleted

yeah.