cue first entry

Korea is on the horizon. Two weeks time and I will be anxiously waiting in a deceptively comfortable passenger loading lobby, listening to dance music and thinking about approximately 172 things at once, all intercepting each other. I returned back to the pleasant sunny cool breeze that was Dallas, Texas yesterday and had a perfectly coincidental evening with my good friend Steven. Three hours of the most intense Yoga I've ever done and a typical Paul und Steven jam/dance/embrace one another's presence session ensued. All in front of his lovely girlfriend. Later this morning, we said our goodbye and I was helping my little sister load the contents of her apartment into my Dad's mini-van destined for S.A.. This was all of course after a week spent in New York, God among cities, with my brother, also named Stephen (with a ph). NYC was predictably fantastic, and I logged at least 30 miles of walking while I was there. I was fortunate enough to have much on my own time to explore and looked at quite a bit of art:

My brother turned 28 and had a party the day I arrived. He, his friend/roommate Ben, Yuka, and I went to a club later where we (I) drunkenly attempted breakdancing moves in a haphazardly organized dance circle. The music was completely on point and there was even a live band to compliment the DJ's booty-jive inducing skills. Basically I want to live in New York now. I'm pretty sure I'll end up there eventually. 

Now I am home in San Antonio, embracing the seemingly perfect kid-absent decor that was my childhood. My parents have done a lot of work on our house since all their children have ventured into adulthood and it has always managed to simultaneously please and throw me off when I return after a long absence. It's kind of exactly like Trading Spaces, but without the hot hostess.