A familiar voice came at us through the darkness. “This *is* radio, after all,” it said. “I would have done the entire show this way but I was asked, ‘How will they know you are here?’” We all laughed and soon after, a spotlight illuminated the stage, revealing a man with large, dark rim glasses behind a desk, stacked with papers and audio equipment. Kali reached over and shook my leg with excitement. Now, there was no question that we were looking straight ahead at Ira Glass of This American Life, who happens to be Kali’s personal hero. She’s never missed a broadcast. Seeing her reaction made the evening that much more incredible.

We had driven to Berkeley, taking the advice of a friend who works there that despite it being a game night, we would be able to find parking. The friend wasn’t entirely wrong. We did find parking 5 flights of stairs and 6 blocks away, but by the time we found it, we were

<7 minutes from show time. We power-walked, squeezing between parking meters and parked cars, weaving our way through the crowd (but still making time to light a cigarette from a stranger's on the street). We kept thinking we were almost there, until at last, I stopped a security guard for directions and nearly lost Kali, as she kept walking in a different direction. I yelled & pointed after her. Finally, we rounded the corner where we saw ticket takers, who were seemingly unhurried, despite the fact that the show should have been starting. We risked a bathroom break, squeezed in just as they were closing the doors, and found our seats, fortunately at the end of a row. We were panting and parched (SIGG bottle ftw), but exchanged excited smiles.

So, the lights fell and our inspired evening with Ira Glass began. I had no expectations for how a radio personality would approach a public talk, but I should have guessed it might be a little like an actual radio show. He had me for every minute. Flipping over the script pages one by one, toggling voice and music clips, while sprinkling in commentary, it was like we were watching the radio. We saw how he mixed as he swapped CDs and toggled buttons, sharing clips of some of his favorite stories. Along the way, he revealed his process for structuring stories (suspense/action/thought) and putting together a show, but it was less of a how-to and more of a thread in the story. In the middle, he slipped in a Glee reference, holding up his hand as "C" with a "that's how I see it". It was hilarious until the Q&A where several people asked him about Glee.

My key takeaway was to create something you would like. Maybe, too often we get caught up in worrying about how others will receive it. We're not necessarily that different from everyone else at the core. He also began as a tape editor, which further enforced my desire to make that transition. I know that's how I'll learn to tell stories. I also loved that he thought he was a horrible storyteller. Nice to know that's not a requirement to be a person who can put together a good story.

It was an amazing night; worth battling the cold & the traffic and enduring the late hour. He referred us to this site with his

manifesto to learn more about his approach and how he came to it. Certainly inspiring and a pleasant reminder of the intimacy and anonymity of the medium which helps it reach out to so many people.

So, all of that was Saturday night. On Sunday, I toted Cerra, Tim, & Emily (the fantastic four, back in action) to Emeryville for the pre-opening day dinner at a co-worker’s new restaurant, Summer Summer Thai Eatery. We sampled so many dishes! I wish I could do that at every restaurant. I’m familiar with so much more thai food now. I was a little amazed at how much I liked. Nice to branch out from pad thai. I also found a new love in Thai Iced Tea, which might become my summer substitute for chai latte.

I met lots of significant others of co-workers, and we shared many laughs around the communal table which the owners built in their backyard. It was such a fun night, and I wish the restaurant were in the city, because I could see groups of us frequenting it. Unfortunately, Cerra got a migraine, which sucked. It was the first time I’ve had a friend ask me to hurt them. I had to squeeze some pressure spot between her thumb and index finger as hard as I could, but to everyone else, it just looked like we were holding hands. I explained that Cerra was moving because of our impending breakup over her deciding she liked men haha. There’s a really horrible photo of me cracking up over this moment. Silly Cerra is moving to Colorado in two weeks *tear*