It's 9PM on a Sunday night. Do you know where your "other" is?

The Saturday running group makes for lots and lots of time for small talk. Last weekend I asked this girl about her commute to UCLA (she's a PhD student in the math department) from West Hollywood. She asks where I live. I give her my pretty generic cross streets on the westside and she says, "Oh yeah, I used to live over there, too. I lived on Amherst." "Me too!" I say. "I lived at 1151." "No, way," she says, "What number?" "8" . . . . . . . . . "YOU LIVED WITH AMY!!" we shout at the same time.

Let's review:
Number of major, for real, training groups for the LA Marthon: 2
Number of members in the "LA Leggers": > 1500
Number of different pace groups: 18
Number of people in my pace group: 40

So the relevation that this person you've been running with for the last 4 months has also lived with your same old roommate, in your same old crappy apartment, who also hated that stupid parking spot between the pole and the fence is a pretty big deal. It easily took up 6 or 7 miles worth of conversation that day.

Tonight I met some friends at Davy Rothbart's (founder of FOUND magazine) promotional tour for his new book, The Lone Surfer of Montana, Kansas. I join the back of the line while I waited for them to arrive and who is way closer to the front of the line but my new doppleganger. IT WAS SO WEIRD!! But also cool. But weird too.

So anyway, I want to plug Found magazine and how awesome it is some more. The tour is on it's way to Phoenix, Dallas, Austin, and Houston, so those of you who live in those cities should definitely go. And if you don't live there, Found #4 is out - as is Dirty Found #2. Buy them. Laugh. Read aloud to your friends. Cackle. Guffaw. Be merry.