I subscribe to the belief that...

...there is no better way of preventing me from using that phrase than to hear someone else say it.

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I've learned from more than 12 years of personal research that a fairly reliable indicator of me having a good time is an absence of writing. And by research I mean reading my past journals and recognizing patterns. Maybe someday I'll code them and make a graph of my personal habits!

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Recent adventures, in no particular order:

Brooklyn Brewery: I took Don here for a tour on his birthday. The place smells like warm grain and goodness; a calico named Monster keeps watch over the lauter tuns. Weekday tour-goers are entitled to a sampling of the "Brewmaster's Concoction," a fanciful experiment done in small batches that is not available for sale. This one was based on a ginger cocktail; it was cask-aged and tasted like candied ginger and Lagavulin.

The kegging room. All bottled beers are produced in Utica, but the freshest stuff comes from here. 

The aroma!

July 4th Weekend: Don's insane carpenter/landlord friend Ilia bought a sailboat and invited us out for the weekend. We were a group of six on a 25 footer, barely prepared and all very excited about fireworks. We sailed out to the middle of Long Island Sound and watched about 10 different firework shows explode around us. I didn't take many pictures.

Fireworks in Astoria Park, Triboro Bridge in the background. 

 Not our boat (but it looked just like it!). Long Island Sound.

A pretty good summary of the weekend 

 Ilia & Jojo

Gay Pride Parade: a moment in history. The last time I saw so many people out celebrating a joyous political cause was the Inauguration of President Obama (minus the rainbow floats and shirtless gay men). A pretty great day all around; Don and I visited the new extension of the High Line Park after the parade. I think we both felt a swell of New York pride, pun intended.

Here we are being wastoids on the subway, making techno beats with Don's new synthesizer iPad app and drinking sake out of Vitamin Water bottles. A New York moment. 

Where it all happened. Funny that it's a One Way! 

Happytimes 

A float by Boxers, a gay sports bar 

Peeling Don's burned skin from his hairy arm. That strip of green in the top right corner is the High Line Park.

Obligatory Wizard photo:

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My plan for today is to get some homework done (ENGL646: West Indian Immigrants and the Harlem Renaissance -- talk about a class that's close to home -- I've got dredheads and Caribbean students and pink-haired poets all talking about race identity in a course taught by a Jersey-sounding white guy. Delaware this is not), take myself out for fancy ice cream, then head out to a party in Harlem with Don.

And did I mention Don and I are going to Iceland in September? Now I can finally realize my childhood dream of riding a purebred Icelandinc pony.