Summer XXL has drawn to a close. A small part of me mourns its passing, but I am exceedingly proud of how much adventure, exhilaration, laughter and fraternization my compatriots and I packed into the past three months.

The season’s conclusion coincided with Nicola’s birthday barbecue, and, although we weren’t aware of the day’s seasonal significance at the time, things quickly escalated to epic proportions. Tequila shots before 5:00 p.m. tend to encourage that sort of thing. The story of O’donovan’s sprinting escape from kidnappers in Hillcrest at 4:00 a.m. is still cracking us up despite its thrice-daily repetition. All in all, it was a perfect endnote for such a fantastic summer.

Fall has not been awarded a title yet, but I think Tuesday night’s champagne party at the Hotel del Coronado was an agreeable way to kick things off. Brian Lio has been in town since Friday, and our former roommates Jessica and Jennifer—the pair lucky enough to witness the genesis of No Pants o’ Clock—are visiting San Diego tomorrow. I’m sure that fun will be had.

I finished grooming/uploading my backpacking photos last night, so go check ‘em out.

This weekend was fun and busy, as has been par for the summer. On Friday night we tried to wade through the bros and hos downtown for a free Moving Units show but gave up and scampered back to the comfort of North Park before they took the stage. Later, at Scolari’s, Chandra scolded us for patronizing the Pink Elephant while we quaffed whiskey shots with her. After a lackluster opening week, to my surprise, the Elephant has done well for itself—there’s a healthy crowd gathered outside its door most nights of the week, and the concern apparent at Scolari’s makes me feel guilty for spending any money at the new, competing establishment. Besides, the bartenders at Pink Elephant have some of the stingiest pours I’ve ever seen. Unacceptable.

On Saturday, Mike and I hosted a Sausage Party which was mostly attended by girls. Since irony is presently the currency of cool, I think it is safe to declare our efforts a success. The tasty sausage, fresh strawberries + cheesecake and sidewalk chalk certainly didn’t hurt, though. After the BBQ, we checked out Agit-Prop and Ray at Night before spending some time at the Red Fox with O’Donovan’s mom. To round out the night, we stopped by the Pink Elephant again before ending up at Scolari’s, where we watched a pair of dudes from Albuquerque with synths and vocoders rock out on freakin’ keytars until closing. It was quite surreal.

And this morning, from Lar:
“Today, I’ll be showing an apartment on Seaman St., between Dyckman and Cummings. I thought you might appreciate that.”

Max and Amanda’s ceremony up in Nevada City was a blast. It was cool to see old high school, middle school, and elementary school friends, and getting boozy and rambunctious with them only made things more fun. My brother’s new kitten is insanely adorable, and I’m glad to have gotten a taste of mom’s traditional summer salsa.

Monday involved a sunny backyard, a refreshing pool, and twelve pounds of dry ice. Yeah, you wish your Labor Day was as cool. Later, come evening, we fed the crew with homemade pesto before catching Lady Dottie and the Diamonds at Tower Bar. So awesome.

I should be working on my freelance stuff. No rest for the wicked, as they say.