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Oh man, note to self: even if you’ve pulled an overnight at the Secret the night before and wake up an hour before bowling for Team Gawker, keep forcing yourself to do it.

Definitely bowled a 127, met more people, went to a bar a block away from the Gawker offices, went to a rooftop gathering with three of the interns (where their music was plain old awesome) from last semester and left when the sun rose at 5:15AM. Everyone had ridiculous stories and incredible insight on the job that none of the other interns get to have because they had to go home. They also spread some gossip about a place that specializes in gossip, and, while that was epic, I feel the need to share those rumors and thoughts neither with you nor anyone else.

The point remains, hell of a night followed by lunch with a friend from college at 30 Rockefeller at 1PM. We get lunch, eat, chat, and watch Hoda Kotb enter the building. It was definitely weird, but I mean, it is where she works. Then I see the guitarist and the bassist for The Roots sit down two benches away. Then I see a girl from my poetry class in college walk in the building. Then another one of my friends from college walks by on the way to her bank. So that was a hell of a lunch.

I showed up to the Gawker Scavenger hunt this afternoon without a partner only to discover the next guy to show up without a partner rides a motorcycle. So on a motorcycle I have 1) ridden from Greenwich Village to the Upper West Side, 2) burned my calf on an exhaust pipe, 3) taken photos in front of some of the most iconic Manhattan TV apartments and show locations, and 4) almost been in an accident with some guy who decided to open his door while we were passing him. That’s a hell of a way to be introduced to motorcycle riding. Needless to say, my legs are still shaking, but it was 105% awesome. The dude’s so much better at things than I am that I was able to check into his motorcycle on foursquare.

All these people are too good at the internet. I gotta get up on this shit.


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