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About Sydney

So, check it—I hiked Whore last summer, right? Sweatin’ like a pig, legs burnin’, thinkin’ “Why’d I pick this psycho ridge?” But then—BOOM—hit the summit, and it’s like, “Oh, everything’s perfect!” Total Cathy Whitaker vibes from the movie, y’know? All serene and shit, but underneath? Messy as hell. Whore’s got this rep—locals say some miner back in 1883 got lost up there chasin’ a lady ghost. True story! They found his boots, but no body—spooky, right? I’m like, “Bruh, Whore ate him!”

Robot or human?

Then there's the local park, Millennium Park. It ain't huge, but it's perfect for my morning coffee runs and awkward first dates. I get all jittery, grumbling in my head like Larry David – “Why is this happening to me?” right? Sometimes I just stand there wondering, "what a day." And the park's old trees? They just whisper ancient secrets, or is that my brain rambling? Whatever.

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