I don't particularly think of myself as moody, but I do see that things have to be just right for me to enjoy myself and feel content. Take last night; after a wonderful meal at Cafe Fish (we went there for the sticky toffee pudding we'd seen on the menu the night before only to find that there was a brand new menu just that day!), we went to Heaven, the famous, big gay club near the Embankment. Unlike the other day, when I had a great time going out with Brett, Kirstie et al, last night was a dud. I think it takes one or more of three ingredients for me to enjoy clubbing - cute guys, good music, and the right company. The first two were definitely missing last night, and Brett was quieter than usual. After an hour standing around in the heat and smoke, feeling full from my meal, I just wanted to get out of there. And there was something kind of depressing about trudging all the way home in the sultry evening, late, tails between our legs.

Yesterday, too, I wasn't really into the whole tourist thing. I did enjoy St Pauls, but by three in the afternoon, the heat and the crowds were getting to me. Yet today, I happily spent the day in even warmer weather, walking around London with my parents. Although you could see it as something of a chore to spend the day in a hot London with my parents, I was perfectly content and peaceful with it.

A cute boy I surreptitiously photographed in Westminster

At least we didn't go to the Royal Festival Hall this time. My Dad is a creature of habit, and one of those habits is coffee at the Royal Festival Hall. I think my parents know every dingy cafe in London, and further afield too. I was asking him for his top three picks in Paris to show Brett, and one of them was the Rodin Museum, "which has a lovely, little cafe."

In front of the Houses of Parliament

There's another haunt of his I didn't get out of this time, and that's St James Park - and it has to be just the right spot in St James Park, mind. I didn't complain though; under the heavy, warm skies, it was a relief to shelter under the cool, green trees, and hear nothing but ducks quacking, and the leaves rustling.

I did shake them out of their groove a little bit, however, by suggesting we go to the Tate Britain (renamed since the opening of the Tate Modern). I'm not always in the mood for an art museum, either, and sometimes it can feel a bit of a duty rather than a charm. But today, although my parents didn't want to let me off the leash for more than forty-five minutes, I was fired up by the art (I think my parents sat in the cafe while I explored).

I loved the way the galleries were curated, with works from different artists and periods grouped by idea. The comments next to each painting really helped you to understand how our ideas about art have changed through the centuries. For example, there was a painting by a guy named Cotes, from the 18th century, which I'd have otherwise passed by (I much prefer twentieth-century art to any other). The comment ran:

"... his enraptured gaze, and the fact that he is looking out of the window, rather than self-consciously presenting himself to the viewer, shows a new attitude towards the idea of the artist, emphasizing his emotional involvement with his subject matter rather than his position in society."

The painting by Cotes

It offered up artists that I'd never encountered before, such as Edward Burra, a kind of camp, maniacal equivalent of Hopper, in the sense that he commented on urban ways of life. The gallery of twentieth century abstracts was closed, sadly, but there looked to be some interesting stuff in there as I peered in.

A painting by Edward Burra

Mind, I'm a creature of habit myself, as anybody knows who has suggested to me that we go anywhere except 2223 or Pasta Pomodoro for dinner in the Castro. One of my habits is going to the gym, whether home in San Francisco or not. I got a good work-out this morning, and felt fit and strong as I left the gym. On the way home, I took a different route, and came across another of the cute little neighborhood parks that are scattered all over London. This one had numerous old gravestones and mauseoleums tucked away behind the trees.

(11.58 p.m. - they were there waiting :)