So much pailla. Also, Safety Dancing.

Last night was a veritable meeting of the minds. At my homie Ana's pad in Campbell, our homie Bob, another Oregon transplant heading in to his PhD program over at UC Davis, Bob's wife Leah, Ana herself, Ana's dude Jason, and the Becky and I all gathered for purposes of raising the level of discourse and eating a sumptuous Spanish feast which Ana prepared. My chilly British blood was warmed by the distinctly Iberian flavor of the pailla, and indeed, of the evening itself.

In other news, I received e-mails from both my homies Heidi and Cody, informing me that there had been some Safety Dancing going down in Portland last night, and that I was thought of. Thanks, guys. It's nice to know that my years of safety dancing up north made an impression. An impression, of safety.

Anyway, today Becky and I are going to this monster flea market across town to look for a cruddy old road bike for me, then she's going to San Francisco to get her hair cut. I guess it would behoove me to take a shower now.