It's been a few weeks and the normal social media climate seems to be creeping back in. Not barging in or even knocking on the door, but pulling into the driveway and shining its lights through the front window.  

#BlackLivesMatter

@heresmything_

@johnroussosss 

It’s an interesting complex, as being around so many people brings on a sense of pseudo normalcy, yet the main reason that we’ve come together in masses is to stand up against one the most normal things this country knows. This episode is about the 4th day of the police brutality protests in Portland, OR.  #BlackLivesMatter

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Karen can't help but say things "karenly". 

#BlackLivesMatter

A man wearing a Gucci t-shirt bumped into me at a street fair. He had a couple of burlap sacks of potatoes for pecs and a two locomotives that I guessed he called his legs.  

Books coming in the mail at random unannounced. Not sure from who. It's mysterious, provokes a little paranoia. Also been sanitizing everything, and in doing so, getting my money's worth on Clorox wipes.

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I’d be better off hoping to wake up in time to see dew on the strip of dead grass outside our house than to expect a rainy afternoon in San Diego. When it did in fact rain, people canceled their plans, cars stopped driving, it became a talking point. But it also ixnayed normal dietary protocol, someone didn’t have to get Bar-Mitzvah’d or turn 5-0 for my mom to tear open a new bag of brown sugar and dose a couple drops of vanilla extract into a khaki-colored batter.

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An admiration, an envy for the lengthy frames of cross country runners and their community.  And I've taken an appreciation to running through Portland neighborhoods on late Saturday mornings for a certain reason.

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A house isn't a home until you've been sick in it. This goes against the millennial desire of a semi-furnished studio apartment. One plant can't cure everything (maybe 2 or 3 or 4), other variables play into it. Comfort, space, family, love, posters.

Been doing some live streams over on the Instagram account @heresmything_. Trivia, live readings, 10-minute drills too. Join us! Wednesdays and Sundays at 8pm.

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I was googling celebrities wearing fedoras when I found a photo of Barack Obama wearing one. Not the cool photo where he was smoking the joint. This photo is better put as ill-advised. The way he wore it reminded me of how you wear fedoras before going into a photo booth. I’d never force my opinion on him, but if he asked what I thought, I’d say, “Mr. President, there’s a time and place, just not right now.” 

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