Rode my bike across Brooklyn tonight on a whim. Found out Sondre Lerche was playing, and I thought of what my dad said, that I'm in this city for a reason, and that reason isn't to save money by missing out.

I missed the openers, got there in time for the first song. Ten seconds into Two Way Monologue I realized that my keys weren't clipped to my belt I searched my jacket pockets, then my backpack, nothing. I retraced my steps back to my bike, then finally stuck my hands in my jeans pockets and found them. I made it back inside before the end of the song.

Afterwards I stayed and tried to make friends. I don't think it really works like that in real life, not when I'm trying, at least, but I did make small talk with some people, and said hi to Sondre's bassist. (Not like a goober though.)

On the way out I realized that I was then missing my gloves, for real this time. I asked bartenders, merch girls (useless), coat check, no one had found them. I retraced my steps--again--to my bike, and in the middle of the road outside the venue they were both just laying there.

I'm sorry if I'm losing my edge. I feel like a new person for some reason, and I'm not sure if I like it.