It only took a few hours for that San Francisco feeling to sink in and make me wonder how I'd ever considered leaving. It was a warm evening - unusually warm for this time of year in San Francisco, and it was so nice to be back in my apartment. I soon discovered that my subletters had left me with no detergent, so I had to walk out and get some in order to wash my bedsheets. Outside, the streets sounded almost deathly silent after New York.

There happened to be a big dance party that night, so I decided to go with my club buddy Stephen. I was pleasantly surprised at the drink prices: just $5.00 for a cocktail. I think New York has permanently warped my value system. I had a blast at the party; people are so much friendlier here than in New York. I even got cruised by a demigod - this gorgeous, slim, muscular creature I've noticed for years but whom I thought would never cast me a glance. Of course he was being pulled away from me at the time by the hand of his boyfriend. Sigh, it's true. All San Francisco men are either gay or married. Or both.

But I did meet someone that night; a handsome, hard-bodied Asian guy I've long had my eye on. I'd even approached him one slightly drunken night and blurted out "Your're fucking hot." to no good effect. But this night, he was responsive, and we started dancing together, and eventually we went back to my place together and spent an affectionate night in bed. He seems like a really nice guy, and we plan on seeing each other again.

Soon it was Monday, and with only three days before my trip to Europe, I hadn't started preparing in any way: I needed Euros and Pounds Sterling, phone converters for Greece and The Netherlands; and where the hell was my passport. On Monday night I searched high and low for it. Not finding it, I racked my brains, and thought I remembered that I'd taken a bag of personal papers to work on one of my trips back to San Francisco from New York. Next day at work, I discovered one of my desk drawers to be locked, which seemed to suggest the papers were inside. But the lock was stuck. With much rattling, I finally opened ... a completely empty desk-drawer. More deep thinking. And I finally recalled that I'd dropped the bag of papers at Cecilia's when I stayed with her. Slight problem. Cecilia was in Hawaii for the Aids Marathon. Thank God for cellphones. I called her up at the crack of dawn, and yes, she had someone housesitting. A nice young lesbian woman names Shane. Yes, Shane. And I could have kissed her when I found the bag of papers with my passport inside.

This has been quite a week for logistical disasters. Today was a tightly scheduled day: a power load of work to do on my project, packing, sending Christmas cards, etc. And matters weren't helped at all when I inadvertently locked myself out of my apartment. And since the night before I'd lost my cellphone, I had no easy way of calling my landlord. An acquaintance happened by when I was struggling with what turned out to be a dud payphone, and offered to drive me to my landlord's office (my car is still in storage). En route, I borrowed my good samaritan's cell and called my landlord, and he offered to send one of his employees round to my apartment with the key.

That story, by the way, emphasizes something I've noticed since being back; people are way nicer here. Throughout a normal day here, there are many little grace notes of social interaction in stores, cafes, restaurants, on the street. People take the time to give good service, and frequently seem to do it out of the old-fashioned conviction that you'll be happier yourself if you do your job cheerfully.

Anyway, it's 5.45, and everything is ready for my trip. My car is coming at 4.15 in the morning to take me to the airport for the first leg of my trip, to London. I'm planning on finally watching the extended edition DVD of "The Two Towers" tonight, in preparation for going to one of my favorite London cinemas to see "The Return of the King" next week. I'm surprised at how powerfully these movies have taken hold of my imagination. When I read the review in the New York Times yesterday morning, I even teared up several times. I might be repeating myself here, but I honestly feel that the first two movies are amongst the greatest works of art of modern times. They convey such sweeping feelings, and excite your admiration of the noble, courageous, honorable characters, who are struggling against an absolute evil in a fight that could end in the complete destruction of man-(and elven)-kind. Awesome stuff.

Anyway, time to get back to Middle Earth. See you in London or Athens.