The five best years of my life. I couldn’t ever have imagined a better partner, friend and soon-to-be-wife. I’m not sure what happens to your dating anniversary once you become lawfully wedded and begin observing your marriage anniversary, but I do know that for the rest of time, if anyone ever asks me what day of the year it was when I made the best decision of my life, my only honest reply will be “I asked out Izzy Roland on September the 15th.” I love you, my darling. Happy Anniversary. ❤️
The five best years of my life. I couldn’t ever have imagined a better partner, friend and soon-to-be-wife. I’m not sure what happens to your dating anniversary once you become lawfully wedded and begin observing your marriage anniversary, but I do know that for the rest of time, if anyone ever asks me what day of the year it was when I made the best decision of my life, my only honest reply will be “I asked out Izzy Roland on September the 15th.” I love you, my darling. Happy Anniversary. ❤️
The five best years of my life. I couldn’t ever have imagined a better partner, friend and soon-to-be-wife. I’m not sure what happens to your dating anniversary once you become lawfully wedded and begin observing your marriage anniversary, but I do know that for the rest of time, if anyone ever asks me what day of the year it was when I made the best decision of my life, my only honest reply will be “I asked out Izzy Roland on September the 15th.” I love you, my darling. Happy Anniversary. ❤️
The five best years of my life. I couldn’t ever have imagined a better partner, friend and soon-to-be-wife. I’m not sure what happens to your dating anniversary once you become lawfully wedded and begin observing your marriage anniversary, but I do know that for the rest of time, if anyone ever asks me what day of the year it was when I made the best decision of my life, my only honest reply will be “I asked out Izzy Roland on September the 15th.” I love you, my darling. Happy Anniversary. ❤️
The five best years of my life. I couldn’t ever have imagined a better partner, friend and soon-to-be-wife. I’m not sure what happens to your dating anniversary once you become lawfully wedded and begin observing your marriage anniversary, but I do know that for the rest of time, if anyone ever asks me what day of the year it was when I made the best decision of my life, my only honest reply will be “I asked out Izzy Roland on September the 15th.” I love you, my darling. Happy Anniversary. ❤️
The five best years of my life. I couldn’t ever have imagined a better partner, friend and soon-to-be-wife. I’m not sure what happens to your dating anniversary once you become lawfully wedded and begin observing your marriage anniversary, but I do know that for the rest of time, if anyone ever asks me what day of the year it was when I made the best decision of my life, my only honest reply will be “I asked out Izzy Roland on September the 15th.” I love you, my darling. Happy Anniversary. ❤️
This past week we said goodbye to Tigre Mashaal-Lively. It feels woefully inadequate to try and capture with words Tigre’s uncapturable spirit. They were explosively joyful, unyieldingly playful, yet when they were listening to you, they were as calm and comforting as a starry sky. They had a heart bigger than the world. Their birthday punches (camp tradition, punches lovingly administered to the arm on one’s birthday) were the stuff of legends: their knuckles seemed to pass through muscle like vapor, to land instead with thunderous intensity on the bone itself. They created worlds out of foam and fabric, paper, steel and wood. Their work still hangs in the Wayfinder office, rests on its shelves, waiting with each new summer to spring into the forests and bring the magical to the mundane yet again. How many campers had their journeys to realms of myth and legend sped on by the incredible artistry of our friend? Every community Tigre touched, from Wayfinder to Burning Man, they transported and transformed. They taught me and so many of my loved ones how to play without reserve, dance without apology, love without self-doubt, and to be wholly and truly oneself.
I can think of no better example than Tigre of how often deep insight into the human experience is accompanied by silliness, playfulness and a deep love of the absurd. I can’t describe how powerfully loving and protective their energy was, and yet how they were only ever a *moment* away from wrestling you to the ground and sitting on your head, often to uproarious applause and laughter. A perfect person.
Tigre, I’ve been trying to write the words that would let me hold onto you, like if I could turn the phrase correctly then maybe some essential part of you would still be here: That if I could describe you exactly as you were, then maybe you’re not really gone, right? I don’t know how to reconcile that desire to hold on with the knowledge that you were beyond description, that you contained more love and joy and wisdom than anyone could ever hope to record. So at the end of the day, I think my biggest, truest feeling is simply this: I really, really miss you, and I wish you were still here.
This past week we said goodbye to Tigre Mashaal-Lively. It feels woefully inadequate to try and capture with words Tigre’s uncapturable spirit. They were explosively joyful, unyieldingly playful, yet when they were listening to you, they were as calm and comforting as a starry sky. They had a heart bigger than the world. Their birthday punches (camp tradition, punches lovingly administered to the arm on one’s birthday) were the stuff of legends: their knuckles seemed to pass through muscle like vapor, to land instead with thunderous intensity on the bone itself. They created worlds out of foam and fabric, paper, steel and wood. Their work still hangs in the Wayfinder office, rests on its shelves, waiting with each new summer to spring into the forests and bring the magical to the mundane yet again. How many campers had their journeys to realms of myth and legend sped on by the incredible artistry of our friend? Every community Tigre touched, from Wayfinder to Burning Man, they transported and transformed. They taught me and so many of my loved ones how to play without reserve, dance without apology, love without self-doubt, and to be wholly and truly oneself.
I can think of no better example than Tigre of how often deep insight into the human experience is accompanied by silliness, playfulness and a deep love of the absurd. I can’t describe how powerfully loving and protective their energy was, and yet how they were only ever a *moment* away from wrestling you to the ground and sitting on your head, often to uproarious applause and laughter. A perfect person.
Tigre, I’ve been trying to write the words that would let me hold onto you, like if I could turn the phrase correctly then maybe some essential part of you would still be here: That if I could describe you exactly as you were, then maybe you’re not really gone, right? I don’t know how to reconcile that desire to hold on with the knowledge that you were beyond description, that you contained more love and joy and wisdom than anyone could ever hope to record. So at the end of the day, I think my biggest, truest feeling is simply this: I really, really miss you, and I wish you were still here.
This past week we said goodbye to Tigre Mashaal-Lively. It feels woefully inadequate to try and capture with words Tigre’s uncapturable spirit. They were explosively joyful, unyieldingly playful, yet when they were listening to you, they were as calm and comforting as a starry sky. They had a heart bigger than the world. Their birthday punches (camp tradition, punches lovingly administered to the arm on one’s birthday) were the stuff of legends: their knuckles seemed to pass through muscle like vapor, to land instead with thunderous intensity on the bone itself. They created worlds out of foam and fabric, paper, steel and wood. Their work still hangs in the Wayfinder office, rests on its shelves, waiting with each new summer to spring into the forests and bring the magical to the mundane yet again. How many campers had their journeys to realms of myth and legend sped on by the incredible artistry of our friend? Every community Tigre touched, from Wayfinder to Burning Man, they transported and transformed. They taught me and so many of my loved ones how to play without reserve, dance without apology, love without self-doubt, and to be wholly and truly oneself.
I can think of no better example than Tigre of how often deep insight into the human experience is accompanied by silliness, playfulness and a deep love of the absurd. I can’t describe how powerfully loving and protective their energy was, and yet how they were only ever a *moment* away from wrestling you to the ground and sitting on your head, often to uproarious applause and laughter. A perfect person.
Tigre, I’ve been trying to write the words that would let me hold onto you, like if I could turn the phrase correctly then maybe some essential part of you would still be here: That if I could describe you exactly as you were, then maybe you’re not really gone, right? I don’t know how to reconcile that desire to hold on with the knowledge that you were beyond description, that you contained more love and joy and wisdom than anyone could ever hope to record. So at the end of the day, I think my biggest, truest feeling is simply this: I really, really miss you, and I wish you were still here.
This past week we said goodbye to Tigre Mashaal-Lively. It feels woefully inadequate to try and capture with words Tigre’s uncapturable spirit. They were explosively joyful, unyieldingly playful, yet when they were listening to you, they were as calm and comforting as a starry sky. They had a heart bigger than the world. Their birthday punches (camp tradition, punches lovingly administered to the arm on one’s birthday) were the stuff of legends: their knuckles seemed to pass through muscle like vapor, to land instead with thunderous intensity on the bone itself. They created worlds out of foam and fabric, paper, steel and wood. Their work still hangs in the Wayfinder office, rests on its shelves, waiting with each new summer to spring into the forests and bring the magical to the mundane yet again. How many campers had their journeys to realms of myth and legend sped on by the incredible artistry of our friend? Every community Tigre touched, from Wayfinder to Burning Man, they transported and transformed. They taught me and so many of my loved ones how to play without reserve, dance without apology, love without self-doubt, and to be wholly and truly oneself.
I can think of no better example than Tigre of how often deep insight into the human experience is accompanied by silliness, playfulness and a deep love of the absurd. I can’t describe how powerfully loving and protective their energy was, and yet how they were only ever a *moment* away from wrestling you to the ground and sitting on your head, often to uproarious applause and laughter. A perfect person.
Tigre, I’ve been trying to write the words that would let me hold onto you, like if I could turn the phrase correctly then maybe some essential part of you would still be here: That if I could describe you exactly as you were, then maybe you’re not really gone, right? I don’t know how to reconcile that desire to hold on with the knowledge that you were beyond description, that you contained more love and joy and wisdom than anyone could ever hope to record. So at the end of the day, I think my biggest, truest feeling is simply this: I really, really miss you, and I wish you were still here.
This past week we said goodbye to Tigre Mashaal-Lively. It feels woefully inadequate to try and capture with words Tigre’s uncapturable spirit. They were explosively joyful, unyieldingly playful, yet when they were listening to you, they were as calm and comforting as a starry sky. They had a heart bigger than the world. Their birthday punches (camp tradition, punches lovingly administered to the arm on one’s birthday) were the stuff of legends: their knuckles seemed to pass through muscle like vapor, to land instead with thunderous intensity on the bone itself. They created worlds out of foam and fabric, paper, steel and wood. Their work still hangs in the Wayfinder office, rests on its shelves, waiting with each new summer to spring into the forests and bring the magical to the mundane yet again. How many campers had their journeys to realms of myth and legend sped on by the incredible artistry of our friend? Every community Tigre touched, from Wayfinder to Burning Man, they transported and transformed. They taught me and so many of my loved ones how to play without reserve, dance without apology, love without self-doubt, and to be wholly and truly oneself.
I can think of no better example than Tigre of how often deep insight into the human experience is accompanied by silliness, playfulness and a deep love of the absurd. I can’t describe how powerfully loving and protective their energy was, and yet how they were only ever a *moment* away from wrestling you to the ground and sitting on your head, often to uproarious applause and laughter. A perfect person.
Tigre, I’ve been trying to write the words that would let me hold onto you, like if I could turn the phrase correctly then maybe some essential part of you would still be here: That if I could describe you exactly as you were, then maybe you’re not really gone, right? I don’t know how to reconcile that desire to hold on with the knowledge that you were beyond description, that you contained more love and joy and wisdom than anyone could ever hope to record. So at the end of the day, I think my biggest, truest feeling is simply this: I really, really miss you, and I wish you were still here.
This past week we said goodbye to Tigre Mashaal-Lively. It feels woefully inadequate to try and capture with words Tigre’s uncapturable spirit. They were explosively joyful, unyieldingly playful, yet when they were listening to you, they were as calm and comforting as a starry sky. They had a heart bigger than the world. Their birthday punches (camp tradition, punches lovingly administered to the arm on one’s birthday) were the stuff of legends: their knuckles seemed to pass through muscle like vapor, to land instead with thunderous intensity on the bone itself. They created worlds out of foam and fabric, paper, steel and wood. Their work still hangs in the Wayfinder office, rests on its shelves, waiting with each new summer to spring into the forests and bring the magical to the mundane yet again. How many campers had their journeys to realms of myth and legend sped on by the incredible artistry of our friend? Every community Tigre touched, from Wayfinder to Burning Man, they transported and transformed. They taught me and so many of my loved ones how to play without reserve, dance without apology, love without self-doubt, and to be wholly and truly oneself.
I can think of no better example than Tigre of how often deep insight into the human experience is accompanied by silliness, playfulness and a deep love of the absurd. I can’t describe how powerfully loving and protective their energy was, and yet how they were only ever a *moment* away from wrestling you to the ground and sitting on your head, often to uproarious applause and laughter. A perfect person.
Tigre, I’ve been trying to write the words that would let me hold onto you, like if I could turn the phrase correctly then maybe some essential part of you would still be here: That if I could describe you exactly as you were, then maybe you’re not really gone, right? I don’t know how to reconcile that desire to hold on with the knowledge that you were beyond description, that you contained more love and joy and wisdom than anyone could ever hope to record. So at the end of the day, I think my biggest, truest feeling is simply this: I really, really miss you, and I wish you were still here.
This past week we said goodbye to Tigre Mashaal-Lively. It feels woefully inadequate to try and capture with words Tigre’s uncapturable spirit. They were explosively joyful, unyieldingly playful, yet when they were listening to you, they were as calm and comforting as a starry sky. They had a heart bigger than the world. Their birthday punches (camp tradition, punches lovingly administered to the arm on one’s birthday) were the stuff of legends: their knuckles seemed to pass through muscle like vapor, to land instead with thunderous intensity on the bone itself. They created worlds out of foam and fabric, paper, steel and wood. Their work still hangs in the Wayfinder office, rests on its shelves, waiting with each new summer to spring into the forests and bring the magical to the mundane yet again. How many campers had their journeys to realms of myth and legend sped on by the incredible artistry of our friend? Every community Tigre touched, from Wayfinder to Burning Man, they transported and transformed. They taught me and so many of my loved ones how to play without reserve, dance without apology, love without self-doubt, and to be wholly and truly oneself.
I can think of no better example than Tigre of how often deep insight into the human experience is accompanied by silliness, playfulness and a deep love of the absurd. I can’t describe how powerfully loving and protective their energy was, and yet how they were only ever a *moment* away from wrestling you to the ground and sitting on your head, often to uproarious applause and laughter. A perfect person.
Tigre, I’ve been trying to write the words that would let me hold onto you, like if I could turn the phrase correctly then maybe some essential part of you would still be here: That if I could describe you exactly as you were, then maybe you’re not really gone, right? I don’t know how to reconcile that desire to hold on with the knowledge that you were beyond description, that you contained more love and joy and wisdom than anyone could ever hope to record. So at the end of the day, I think my biggest, truest feeling is simply this: I really, really miss you, and I wish you were still here.
This past week we said goodbye to Tigre Mashaal-Lively. It feels woefully inadequate to try and capture with words Tigre’s uncapturable spirit. They were explosively joyful, unyieldingly playful, yet when they were listening to you, they were as calm and comforting as a starry sky. They had a heart bigger than the world. Their birthday punches (camp tradition, punches lovingly administered to the arm on one’s birthday) were the stuff of legends: their knuckles seemed to pass through muscle like vapor, to land instead with thunderous intensity on the bone itself. They created worlds out of foam and fabric, paper, steel and wood. Their work still hangs in the Wayfinder office, rests on its shelves, waiting with each new summer to spring into the forests and bring the magical to the mundane yet again. How many campers had their journeys to realms of myth and legend sped on by the incredible artistry of our friend? Every community Tigre touched, from Wayfinder to Burning Man, they transported and transformed. They taught me and so many of my loved ones how to play without reserve, dance without apology, love without self-doubt, and to be wholly and truly oneself.
I can think of no better example than Tigre of how often deep insight into the human experience is accompanied by silliness, playfulness and a deep love of the absurd. I can’t describe how powerfully loving and protective their energy was, and yet how they were only ever a *moment* away from wrestling you to the ground and sitting on your head, often to uproarious applause and laughter. A perfect person.
Tigre, I’ve been trying to write the words that would let me hold onto you, like if I could turn the phrase correctly then maybe some essential part of you would still be here: That if I could describe you exactly as you were, then maybe you’re not really gone, right? I don’t know how to reconcile that desire to hold on with the knowledge that you were beyond description, that you contained more love and joy and wisdom than anyone could ever hope to record. So at the end of the day, I think my biggest, truest feeling is simply this: I really, really miss you, and I wish you were still here.
This past week we said goodbye to Tigre Mashaal-Lively. It feels woefully inadequate to try and capture with words Tigre’s uncapturable spirit. They were explosively joyful, unyieldingly playful, yet when they were listening to you, they were as calm and comforting as a starry sky. They had a heart bigger than the world. Their birthday punches (camp tradition, punches lovingly administered to the arm on one’s birthday) were the stuff of legends: their knuckles seemed to pass through muscle like vapor, to land instead with thunderous intensity on the bone itself. They created worlds out of foam and fabric, paper, steel and wood. Their work still hangs in the Wayfinder office, rests on its shelves, waiting with each new summer to spring into the forests and bring the magical to the mundane yet again. How many campers had their journeys to realms of myth and legend sped on by the incredible artistry of our friend? Every community Tigre touched, from Wayfinder to Burning Man, they transported and transformed. They taught me and so many of my loved ones how to play without reserve, dance without apology, love without self-doubt, and to be wholly and truly oneself.
I can think of no better example than Tigre of how often deep insight into the human experience is accompanied by silliness, playfulness and a deep love of the absurd. I can’t describe how powerfully loving and protective their energy was, and yet how they were only ever a *moment* away from wrestling you to the ground and sitting on your head, often to uproarious applause and laughter. A perfect person.
Tigre, I’ve been trying to write the words that would let me hold onto you, like if I could turn the phrase correctly then maybe some essential part of you would still be here: That if I could describe you exactly as you were, then maybe you’re not really gone, right? I don’t know how to reconcile that desire to hold on with the knowledge that you were beyond description, that you contained more love and joy and wisdom than anyone could ever hope to record. So at the end of the day, I think my biggest, truest feeling is simply this: I really, really miss you, and I wish you were still here.
This past week we said goodbye to Tigre Mashaal-Lively. It feels woefully inadequate to try and capture with words Tigre’s uncapturable spirit. They were explosively joyful, unyieldingly playful, yet when they were listening to you, they were as calm and comforting as a starry sky. They had a heart bigger than the world. Their birthday punches (camp tradition, punches lovingly administered to the arm on one’s birthday) were the stuff of legends: their knuckles seemed to pass through muscle like vapor, to land instead with thunderous intensity on the bone itself. They created worlds out of foam and fabric, paper, steel and wood. Their work still hangs in the Wayfinder office, rests on its shelves, waiting with each new summer to spring into the forests and bring the magical to the mundane yet again. How many campers had their journeys to realms of myth and legend sped on by the incredible artistry of our friend? Every community Tigre touched, from Wayfinder to Burning Man, they transported and transformed. They taught me and so many of my loved ones how to play without reserve, dance without apology, love without self-doubt, and to be wholly and truly oneself.
I can think of no better example than Tigre of how often deep insight into the human experience is accompanied by silliness, playfulness and a deep love of the absurd. I can’t describe how powerfully loving and protective their energy was, and yet how they were only ever a *moment* away from wrestling you to the ground and sitting on your head, often to uproarious applause and laughter. A perfect person.
Tigre, I’ve been trying to write the words that would let me hold onto you, like if I could turn the phrase correctly then maybe some essential part of you would still be here: That if I could describe you exactly as you were, then maybe you’re not really gone, right? I don’t know how to reconcile that desire to hold on with the knowledge that you were beyond description, that you contained more love and joy and wisdom than anyone could ever hope to record. So at the end of the day, I think my biggest, truest feeling is simply this: I really, really miss you, and I wish you were still here.
A true blast jumping into the Elden Ring one-shot for Critical Role! Had such an unbelievably wild time drinking tears, collecting runes and stacking horses in the Lands Between with this incredible table of players!
#criticalrole #eldenring #dungeonsanddragons
A true blast jumping into the Elden Ring one-shot for Critical Role! Had such an unbelievably wild time drinking tears, collecting runes and stacking horses in the Lands Between with this incredible table of players!
#criticalrole #eldenring #dungeonsanddragons
A true blast jumping into the Elden Ring one-shot for Critical Role! Had such an unbelievably wild time drinking tears, collecting runes and stacking horses in the Lands Between with this incredible table of players!
#criticalrole #eldenring #dungeonsanddragons
A true blast jumping into the Elden Ring one-shot for Critical Role! Had such an unbelievably wild time drinking tears, collecting runes and stacking horses in the Lands Between with this incredible table of players!
#criticalrole #eldenring #dungeonsanddragons
Intrepid (adjective)
– characterized by resolute fearlessness, fortitude, and endurance
– adventurous (often used for rhetorical or humorous effect)
– possessed of physical courage and initiative
– bold; dauntless; daring
It’s primary season! This Tuesday is Election Day for a number of incredibly important local races: Make sure to drop off your completed ballot or go vote in person on Tuesday for amazing candidates like @eunisses2022, @kennethmejiala and @hugoforcd13! Local elections are often where we get the opportunity to support candidates that most closely align with our progressive values, and these close races with low turnout make our individual votes matter even more than normal. You have JUST TWO DAYS LEFT to drop off your completed ballot!
Wondering how to vote? CA voters should have received a mail-in ballot which you can drop off at official ballot drop boxes around town, or directly at your local election center. You can also vote in-person at your local polling place on Tuesday!
Wondering who to vote for? I usually start with the recommendations from @demsocialists and @knockdotla and research further from there!
Wondering who you SHOULDN’T vote for? Yeah, DON’T vote for Rick Caruso, he’s an anti-abortion billionaire who’s trying to buy the race. Bad news!
Occasionally one becomes so excited to acquire a book that one forgets that one had already preordered it, thus becoming the proud owner of TWO copies of said book. Thus is my story regarding the incredible “Chester Van Chime Who Forgot How to Rhyme,” the delightful new children’s book by @averymonsen and Abby Hanlon, which I cannot recommend highly enough! Chester may have learned the important lesson of accepting that it’s okay to make mistakes and that rhyming should be fun: I, however, do not consider buying this book more than once to be a mistake, as I now can read it to my nephew twice instead of merely once. Go buy two copies TODAY!
LIVE FROM GLASSELL PARK TABLING FOR @eunisses2022 !
