I was a Game of Thrones hipster. I almost certainly read the books before you did, because I read them in 2003. You read them in June 2011. 

The same is not true for me and Harry Potter. I didn't start reading them until 2004, so I only had to wait for two of the books to come out.

You know I have a thick skin -- I love making fun of virtue signaling, regressive feminism, whiny little babies, and social justice warriors. 

But I canNOT stand the disgusting rape song that is "Baby, It's Cold Outside." When it comes on, I literally wait outside until the song is over. 

At times, it's so gorgeous, I kind of tear up a little. 

The last few years, I've been getting more and more into mountain biking. The Bay Area is an incredible place for it. There are dozens of gorgeous beginner and intermediate trails, from Arastradero Preserve in Palo Alto/Los Altos to​ Fremont Older in Saratoga/Cupertino.

​But when I have the time (it takes about 30-40 minutes to get there from Palo Alto, vs. 5-10 to get to Arastradero), I love biking Russian Ridge -- the closer to sunset, the better. 

A recent article in The Harvard Crimson complained that scholarship recipients felt "uncomfortable" and "out of place" at an annual Scholarship Dinner, where students had the opportunity to network with billionaires and millionaires (many of whom were, themselves, scholarship recipients in their days at Harvard) while eating delicious food.

Last Saturday, as I was writing my review of Broadway by the Bay's Into the Woods, an episode of Malcolm Gladwell's Revisionist History began playing. Within seconds, I was able to summarize the entire episode in a few sentences: 

"They're going to say that Olympic silver medalists feel worse than bronze medalists, because silver medalists upward social compare ('I could have been the best in the world, but I'm not,') and bronze medalists downward social compare ('I'm so happy I got a medal!')."

"Once upon a time..."

BA du du du du.

You know from the very first note that this is going to be a night of surprises. And that's how you know it's Sondheim. Right here in Redwood City.

James Delisco Beeks and the company of the North American Tour of JESUS CHRIST SUPERSTAR. Photo by Matthew Murphy.

Without a doubt, Jesus Christ Superstar is one of my favorite musicals of all time -- which is why, when I found out the 50th Anniversary Tour was coming to the San Jose Center for the Performing Arts, I had to be there opening night.

And I might be back again before closing night.

There's been some recent confusion about a post I wrote last fall. In What Men Don't Understand When They Complain, "It's Only Creepy If The Guy Isn't Hot," I made the very accurate and straightforward statement that flirting is only fun when it's reciprocated. Yes, I acknowledged, attractiveness does affect the likelihood of your flirting being reciprocated, and that sucks for people who are not attractive. 

But continuing to hit on someone who isn't interested is a good way to be labeled creepy, and there are better ways to actually find love. 

"Every La Croix flavor," someone once joked on Twitter, "Tastes like it was created by someone who didn’t want to admit he’d never tasted fruit so had a friend quickly describe it to him."

And Netflix's new movie, Tall Girl, is like someone didn't want to admit he'd never met a tall girl... but couldn't be bothered to have a friend quickly describe it to him.

Worse than that, I found the movie boring, poorly-written, and downright creepy and rape culture-y.

Image: @TheHappyTalent on Instagram

Let me start by saying that I love you. I love that you want to be there for me. I love that you're showing concern for my health and recovery. It means so much​.

But can I just, real quick, tell you what my mornings have been like since my injury?