Looking for adrianfung.com?  Go to 8w.crossingtheglobe.org.

And.  SSSSSSSSSSSSSStop coming here.

Remind me:  Why do I have this site again?

It's been a long time since I last wrote but the good news is that -- there's lots of good news.  I think.  Let's start with the bad things:  I have this weird laceration on the inside of my nostril which really sucks because it has no chance to heal what with the constant high traffic of pure, certified snot. 

Onto less gross things, I went to North Carolina to see my girlfriend for her birthday.  She lives in a farmhouse with a forest and endless fields for a backyard, which is at once beautiful but creepy at night.  We had a great time and ate incredible food.  I never would have thought that the best steak I'd have would be in North Carolina at a place called Pop's Trattoria.  I've taken to drinking red wine with steak and I want to shake the hand of whoever thought of doing that first.

I also made her think that I was getting her a Winnie The Pooh umbrella for her birthday, and I sat back watching her struggle to contain her obvious disgust in my taste for gifts.  When I gave her the real gift -- a much more substantial mp3 player -- she was elated (since she had lost her last one in Egypt this summer and likes to run to music) but we were both scared at how good of a liar I am.

Her roommate has a dog named Annie who is absolutely adorable.  And, unlike my dogs, knows how to play fetch.

It was so fun seeing her everyday but it was tough because I stayed with one of her friends -- who was a really nice guy --  but it was just such a nuisance to have to get to his house at a decent hour while knowing that sleeping over at hers would be so much more convenient and great.  But the things we do to make our mothers happy ...

Currently scrambling to see whether I have anything interesting to say at all before I end this post.  Nope.

But, recently, I noticed that more people are subscribing to this site.  The last person was Gabe, whom I have known for, like, 25 years.  (Seeing that I'm only 24, this is a feat in itself.)  People really need to stop coming here, okay?

Little snag in tagging the quartet:  One of the violinists thinks he likes Redwood String Quartet better.  I'm not entirely sure what we have in common with redwoods.  All I know is that they're big and, frankly, we aren't.  At the same time, it doesn't sound that bad.  After all, we can't expect to collectively resonate with something like a tree. 

Went to San Francisco State University today to meet with someone who wants music at his outdoor grad fair.  The 28 Bus sucks.  Waited forty-five minutes.  Going there didn't make any sense, either, even though he really wanted to meet in person.  I tried to insinuate there was nothing we couldn't discuss over the phone, but apparently, he really wanted me there so that he could show me "visually" how "the set-up would work" and "whether I thought it would be alright".  Essentially, he showed me a picture of umbrellas.  And it really didn't matter if I thought it was alright.

I made spaghetti with sausage and portabella mushrooms.  The portabella mushrooms were thrown in only because they were on sale.  I'm sure I wasted its trendiness by throwing it in spaghetti sauce, instead of grilling it between two slices of bread, cheese, and, I don't know, truffle oil.

Let me write something quick because I haven't and I can.  The apartment in San Francisco is great and I couldn't ask for something better.  Well, I guess I could, but that would include stone cupids and a ten-foot fountain -- which could get old fast anyway.  It overlooks the city and you can see the ocean.  It's nice to live on my own again.  I only did it for one year in Montreal and it was in the most grim of spaces, so this is a breath of fresh air.

Totally uninspired to write on the other site lately.  Something stifling about expectations.

The quartet here plays well and I'm excited about the possibilities.  I'm going to need to work on making more friends because my quartet is pretty much all I see these days.  The problem is that I have no classes (I never thought I'd consider that a problem) and so all I'm doing is performing and rehearsing with a close nucleus of players.  In my own attempt to branch out, I agreed to read Schubert's Cello Quintet with some other students at the school.   I was genuinely shocked and became immediately grateful of my present quartet members' level.

We're thinking of a name for the group.  Girlfriend always amazes:  She came up with The Embarcadero String Quartet -- which sounds better than, believe it or not, anything any of us in the quartet came up with.  Embarcadero is cool to us because that's the first place we played, busking on the street as a gig.  (Actually, we played at Castro Station first, but it's never struck me as creative to name yourself after a tyrant -- besides, Embarcadero was the first place we played after having rehearsed.)

Bringing this up with the quartet, they were very happy.  Nodding their heads.  But they wanted to know what it meant first, before we assumed the name.  None of us were Spanish, but I looked it up:

A pier, wharf, or landing place, especially on a river or inland waterway.

WHY NOT?!  That's like, great.  A landing place.  Not "squirrel testicles", or whatever our violist Dave thought it might be.  I think it's a go.  What do you think?