Hello all. Today we have a briefer, happier rant about memories. When Dad was still around, he would take pictures of us kids when we were still groggy and half awake out at breakfast diners. He said he was making memories. We hated it.

Now he may be gone but I still don't hold any particular fondness for those pictures, for me they have no special context and show a bunch of proturbed early adults, me included in them. But I do believe my dad kept them in fond memory himself. Memories are ours to hold, and make

The important part on the "make" bit. My dad took those pics while taking his three adult kids out to breakfast on Saturdays while we were all starting to go our own ways as adults / need Dad less. So for him, they were important and special, no doubt, and on that I focus.

I've just spent a week in Austin doing my own version of making memories. For me it's done in jokes made, experiences you participate in, and things that just...happen. All while enjoying the company of friends that one can call a version of family.

After all, they may not be blood but what kind of people let you crash in their house with a key to entrance for a week, who drives you back to that house at 2am every day, who has no qualm paying for dinner after dinner when they could POSSIBLY be paying bills instead?

Who considers how you might be feeling that day or immediately wants to take your fun shenanigans to the crowds to make it even more entertaining for others? It's people who hold you up and support you like this that you want to remember as family, and make memories with them.

So today I thank @dougssz , @GeekyFriedRice , @LunahBat , negativezach (sorry don't know your Twitter man), and @OneLetter for memories, hospitality, and the bravest thing we do on this planet: Love. Here's my highlights. Thank you all. <3