shoreline margaritas and other things i did while memorializing.

things i did over memorial day weekend:

went to the beach.

played with a puppy.

drank margaritas.

ate chicken wings and other things. and rhymed about it apparently.

loved a baby.

watched a couple of numbnuts play putt-putt in way-too-hot-for-putt-putt weather.

complained about how hot it was.

praised how hot it was.

thought about how lucky i am that i have known this friend since i was 14.

thought about how awesome it is to be best friends with someone i’ve known since i was 14.

rode in a car.

drove a car.

put gas in a car.

complained about spending my life savings on gas.

packed my car full of beach chairs and beach towels and a bike and a frisbee and coolers filled with ice and beer and snacks and then thought about living inside my car because i pretty much had everything anyone needs during the summer months.

then thought about how my favorite song is all about living in the back of your car and how ironic it was that i was considering doing just that.

then remembered i loved air conditioning.

and beds.

went to the pool which was closed because there was goose poop in the pool.

laughed at the concept of goose poop in the pool.

insisted that goose poop could not kill me and that swimming in the ocean couldn’t be any safer because sharks and people alike poop in the ocean and pay no mind to it whatsoever.

found out that some california lifeguards make over 200K a season and listened closely as my jaw went crashing to the floor.

thought about my red bathing suit that i was going to retire and realized that, instead, i needed to locate it as soon as i got home.

thought about california.

found my red bathing suit.

hoped i still remembered cpr.

thought about how awesome it would be to save someone’s life.

then thought about how awesome it is just to change someone’s life.

then became grateful for the people who gave UP their life.

for us.

for all of us.

even when they don’t know us.

and how that is the most awesome thing of all.

even more awesome than goose poop.

friday afternoon pov.

i started writing about the perils of doing 3 somewhat massive shoots in 36 hours and how it’s filmmaking suicide and how staying awake for 48 straight hours straddles a very thin line between overbooking oneself and simple stupidity and how one should never ever do that unless they’re completely out of their mind or broke and how since i am neither i can’t rationalize why i just don’t say NO sometimes and accept the fact that while it is flattering and good for the bank account to be in demand it’s also okay to not try and cram three 16-hour days into one and how people will still love you if you just chillthefuckout and only do what is slightly above normal.

and then i erased it.

because this is way more exciting than that:

IT’S OFFICIALLY SUMMER.

today was for recovering from the insanity of trying to be the best i can be and for sticking my face in the sun because i wanted to and not because i had to.

oh and in case you were wondering if running 5 miles after standing for 2 straight days is a good idea . . .

it’s not.

it’s just not.

don’t try it.

don’t think about it.

just don’t.

sit your ass down in a park and take some dumb photos of the sky.

or your feet in the sky.

and then go pull out your favorite bathing suit and oversized towels from the top shelf.

because tomorrow is a beach day.

happy summer, trillas.

this must be what it's like to live in seattle.

for the love of God.

STOP RAINING

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Location:on the stoop, building an ark.

i can’t for the life of me remember why i didn’t take my kayak to work today.

i always call someone (anyone) whenever i’m in a situation where i think there’s a decent chance that i could die.

just so someone knows where i am and how to locate my body.

this was not not one those situations.

fifteen minutes later was one of those situations.

this moment was rather calm. placid, if you will.

[or if you won’t . . . “lake placid” didn’t have a particularly good outcome even though the title suggests anything other than the carnivoric rampage brought on by a 300-ton crocodile. let’s all move to south florida. yay.]

what i learned today is that i would make an excellent running back.

tiki barber, eat your heart out.

- - - - - - -

you can file this under part 1 of 2 entitled: “the various ways i might get murdered while on the job.”

it’s a two-part series. get excited.

[oh yeah i didn’t really elaborate, but part 1 (this is part 1) involved a semi high speed chase between me and wolf (who turned out to be a dog) named jack.]

i have a whole lotta steak knives for someone who rarely cooks steak.

you stabbed my cocktail with a kitchen knife, took a picture for posterity, and then called me weird for dancing on the coffee table and singing into the dvd player remote control?

[total ed kowalczyck moment, in case you were wondering. it happens. somehow i acquired a LIVE dvd which i like to imitate sometimes but probably shouldn’t. “lightning crashes” sounds really good when you’re elevated on the coffee table and a few pops in. my neighbor is probably going to burn this dvd one day when i’m not home. i’m rethinking the notion of giving him a spare key even though i sometimes think i should in case i lock myself out of the house. which has also happened. sort of like the time i left the house with the faucet running and the front door wide open for 13 hours . . . except the opposite of that.]

another point for rankin. we aim to outnumber the smiths one day.

there is another creature walking (no. not walking. at all. she’s 3 days old) gracing this planet, carrying the [sometimes] double-take name.

anne rankin barbara yonchak came to be on monday and i couldn’t be happier for adele and tom. (and rebooking a flight to the cack. stat. i want to SEE her.)

wear it proud, anne rankin! you have joined an elite group of card holders who quite like the uniqueness of a name that no one seems to have ever heard more than twice. it’s okay, we’re used to it. you’ll find it’s like a little secret we’re keeping from everybody.

[we’ve discussed this, but rankin is not a pen name, even though i’ve been asked that more than once. it’s my middle name (and practically everyone else’s in my family) and despite the fact that you can pummel it with an assortment of spin-offs, we really like it around here.]

own it, little lady!

and then you too can completely geek out and take pictures of it when you see it written in random places like doctors offices or ad agencies.

see?

geeked out.

your IQ of a billion is going to serve you well.

this is the book that sits on my brother’s bedside table.

a light read, it’s like “goodnight moon” for adults.

my oldest younger brother is tossing his cap on sunday and going off into the world to do good will hunting type shit. (minus the excessive emotional baggage and amazon girlfriend with a weird accent and an unforgiving jawline.)

which includes next stop graduate school for a small dose of a master’s degree in something awesomely nerdy like computational finance. (or is it quantitative finance. or is there a difference.)

solid.

there’s an excellent chance he’ll be settling on the big small island of manhattan in a matter of a couple months – gearing up for an academic boot camp that would make you night sweat right through your footed pajamas and weep into your pillow while peeing all over yourself and crying out for your mom.

but as my dad puts it in a simplistic manner so that we can really understand the inner workings of little bro’s brain: “for him, it’s like opening a box of crayons and coloring . . .”

which is swell because it allows him the ability to create an equal balance between work and:

play.

although there’s another chance he could end up in chicago and that wouldn’t be so bad either as long as he doesn’t forget his mittens.

[and maybe bobby and chris could show him to that little place called 50/50 where whiskey flows like water and reasoning is checked at the door. (and then maybe he can hail a cab in last night’s clothes because it’s cute.)]

go get ‘em, little bro. and take all their muthalovin’ names.

and don’t forget your sister luvs you.

(but not as much as she loves a good classic wood-paneled wall.)

granola bars were invented for days like this. (and for people who go hiking all day long.)

if your day supplies you with only enough opportunity to cram some dog bone shaped candy in your stomach, then you are likely one (or all, but hopefully not all) of the following:

(a) anorexic and 13 burned calories away from either cardiac arrest or a fainting spell.

(b) in dire straits need of stopping everything you’re doing and taking the time to reevaluate your life sustaining priorities.

(c) going to need to make time to brush your teeth because that’s 100% dog bone shaped sugar behind that veil of gold organza. like smarties.

(d) inevitably going to crash 5 minutes after your mico-sized sugar rush that went straight to your brain like a rush of heroin to the forearm. thus nullifying the need to put anything in your stomach in the first place.

(e) probably wishing you had more than half a handful of dog bone shaped candy and a much larger organza bag.

cheers to a 3:00am wake-up call and running yourself in circles for seventeen straight hours.