And... Go.

And then (and yes I know I'm suddenly re-establishing contact after a long silent stretch), I was a bit older. And what remained was a weekend's worth of memories made up of blurred recollections and amazing food and digital photos and falling over giggling and many many many many MANY drinks and old friends catching up and some newer friends suddenly being missed and yet more fantastic cuisine and getting distracted and wandering off and unrequited love and stupid jokes and stolen kisses and immense affection and loose ends and missing polaroids and a few long-time collaborators notable in thier absence and early mornings and late nights and intersecting social circles and intending to go somewhere and ending up somewhere entirely different by mistake and disorientation and selective equilibrium and unanticipated tenderness and music and fun and not a lot of sleep and holding one another tightly and missed connections and happy coincidences and no matter what details we'd ...

Exhausted. Run a bit ragged. Wistful for the ocean. Waiting for a moment to pause and think. In the final stretch to get finances and housing squared. Planning trip west. Up far too late. Trying to turn down the sound and images spinning in my brain. Wondering at the incredible city I live in. Wishing I had more time to devote to family. Imagining how music can fit together, and wondering if I have the means to execute it. Stressed. Stupidly busy. Somehow still moving forward. Excited. Determined. Hopeful. Totally smitten. More soon. -PAR

It's funny, I've worn through probably four or five pairs of batts since moving to New York. And every time, I've just had to throw the old ones out and buy new ones. If only I'd known that there's a place on the Westside Highway that specializes in re-facking them... -PAR

A quick flip backwards through some pictures from the last few months. (Now that I'm able to get things from my Trekphone to my laptop again...) Lots of crazy. Lots of fun. Lots more to come. -PAR

Then, one day, it's seventy degrees outside and margaritas start seeming like the best idea in the world. Time to start seeking out rooftops and patios. I'm catching a bus down to Charlottesville on Monday. Spending the better part of the week there, with few places to be or events to attend. An actual real-live vacation. Yeah. Spring is thus far a totally disjointed series of phrases and images that I'm not even trying to form into a cohesive whole. It's just stuff happening and things flashing by and falling-over tired and laughing a lot. The music needs to be louder. Sure, I'd love another drink. You're doing what? I'd love to, but I'll forget, could you remind me later? We need more of that. Open the windows. Yes, move to New York. Check THAT out. Yeah, I should probably get more sleep. High-five! Yes, please. I'll get to that one in a second. You like-a that one so much, we playa it for you again now. Easy, buddy. Faster. ...

It won't stop raining in NYC. And it's not quite warm enough to be enjoyable. It's just a cold and wet and dreary. Rain not even coming down, but streaming horizontally so umbrellas don't make much difference. Iced coffee is all that's coming between me and falling over, giving in to the 80-odd hour work week I'm winding up. Well, iced coffee and Mike Doughty's redition of "Looks" coming over the stereo. Perfect rainy day tunage. This upcoming week: the last few days of working at the coffeeshop before we close for renovation/transformation. Seeing a rock show with a cute girl. General exhaustion, margaritas with friends, dealing with taxes, buying tix for my trip to Ch'ville at the end of the month. Transmission continuing soon. -PAR

...And the next thing you know, it's full-on springtime. Daylight savings shakes everything up, time starts accelerating, kick the windows open to get some fresh air and turn up the stereo. My life suddenly kicks back into high gear between theater gig, planning next visit back to Ch'ville, being smitten with girl and pop music, other as-yet-nameless project taking too much of my time, coffeeshop what I work at closing to renovate, planning next stage of DJ career, and all the usual idiot revelry that comes with the being young and foolish. -PAR