Dan Zembrosky, The MQ’s cherished font of gratuitous Transformers references, passed away in a kayaking accident this past Sunday. He was only 24 years old.

Dan joined the paper the year I was Editor in Chief, and he took the helm after Abe in 2005. His assent was as natural and inevitable as gravity. He was without a doubt the hardest working funnyman we had, generating prodigious amounts of content both written and visual. When the editorial board looked back on each issue, we’d sometimes have to laugh at the fact that fully one half of the articles were written, or edited, or edited and re-written by Dan, but the truth is we would have been fucked without him. His footprint was gargantuan.

I’m only beginning to process how unfair this is, but everyone who knew Dan knows this: the world is worse for having lost him.

I couldn’t title this post “Catching Up” because I’ve fallen back on that idiom twice before. I’m sorry for neglecting you, Duolab. A lot has transpired, but I didn’t take down notes and can’t even manage a glut of adjective-laden anecdotes like I did in July.

I know I meant to write about backpacking in August but kept putting it off because I hadn’t processed the photos yet. The trip was fantastic, aside from the concussion close-call we had towards the end. Gorgeous lakes, shitty instant soups, shittier lasagna, miles of strenuous marching, foolhardy cliff traversals, whiskey, and counting shooting stars from the comfort of a sleeping bag atop hardy grass. I kept repeating “the chitinous staccato of grasshoppers and sinewy crackle of knees” in my head as we hiked out because I meant to write some flowery prose about all the sounds (or lack thereof) we wrapped ourselves in, but I think I’ll just leave it at that. Here are the visuals.

I visited San Diego for Megan’s wedding and then again a couple weeks later for the annual Bike Bar Tour. Both trips were awesome. I miss San Diego. I miss burritos and biking everywhere.

Fall was beautiful. It’s hard to describe the feeling that washes over you as the air turns crisp and the leaves flush with color before accumulating on the ground. I keep straining to sample random smokey accents laced through each breeze. Living in San Diego for six years has definitely made me appreciate the foothills more.

And now it’s snowing.

I know I mentioned in my last post that I would be in Vegas for CES and my birthday, but I am going to have to change all of your plans. Getting flown to Vegas for CES by work fell through. So I’ll be in and around San Diego for my brithday. If you are so inclined, join me.

Its fall again, many of you might have noticed. And being in San Diego during this time of year has once again been a let down. I miss the seasons I used to get living in Northern California. The mornings I’d wake up to wet roads and cloudy skies. Or the nights the howling wind and heavy rain would wake me. I miss wearing heavy clothes too. I didn’t think I’d ever say that. Enough weather talk.

A few weeks ago I took a seemingly unexciting spill on my bike and ended up spending three days in the hospital with a ruptured kidney. My parents flew down and my mom took care of me for a few days afterwards. Making me meatloaf and pies until I told her to stop being so motherly and fly home to take care of my dad; he’s useless at taking care of himself. Nothing bad came of the injury to my kidney, other than the doctor taking away my riding priviledges for 6 weeks.

Jordan and I have been looking at renting a house down in South Park. We got word that we’ve been approved for a place a few blocks from Hamilton’s and The Whistle Stop and will probably be moving in the next couple weeks.

Work has been fairly mundane. Although I do get to go to CES again this year in January. If anyone wants to meet me in Vegas for my birthday buy a flight for the weekend of the 10th and 11th.

I woke up in a hostipal bed at 5am on Saturday morning (March 1st).

Okay, let me back up.  I met a couple people at Moose McGillicutty’s after work on Friday and had a drink and an order of fish and chips.  We then wandered around looking for the right place to go into downtown, you many know that I despise going out around the Gaslamp area.  We settled on Star Bar on E Street where we had a couple drinks and bantered about work.  From there I said we should hed to Hamilton’s in South Park, and everyone agreed so I jumped on my bike and raced up the hill into South Park and chugged a couple pints of water before everyone else got there.  I introduced myself to a man there who had a dog and I told him how much I miss having a pet like that around to play with.  As far as I know I was fine when I left the bar to ride the 2 miles home from Hamilton’s.

The story after that had to be gotten from a phone number I found stuffed inside my backpack on Saturday afternoon.  Apparently I managed to run myself into the trunk of a parked car halfway home.  The man I talked to heard a crash and checked outside and found me laying unconcious in the road.  He called an ambulance and I was taken to the hospital and cleaned-up.  They did some scans to make sure I hadn’t broken anything and they came out clean, no broken skull.  As soon as the nurse said I could leave I did.  I jumped on my bike, stupid idea, and rode home from a Hospital near SDSU.

I am alright.  I came out of the whole ordeal with a fat lip, a bruised nose, a little skuff on my hairline, and a pretty bad headache.

New rule, no riding home from a bar alone.