What a beautiful week we had - each day warmer than the previous one, champagne cool air, perfect blue skies. I went running each day just wearing a tank top, thanking the stars that I wasn't in New York. Unfortunately, it came to an end on Thursday night, the very evening my friend Chris arrived from New York. Friday was grey and overcast - it even rained a little, throwing a bit of a damper on my intention of making Chris fall in love with San Francisco.

I had supposedly taken the day off work, but by 11.30, I'd already spent most of the morning in conference calls. Moreover, I'd come precious close to asking to be reassigned back to my old group from which I'd only just transferred. My new boss had been extremly nice to me, up until the day I transferred to his group. But now it seemed that he thought he could push me around. The issue was all about my travel plans; I'd arranged with my project manager that I'd travel up to New York on Tuesday, and stay through the following Wednesday. But as I feared, on Thursday morning I got an ominous email with the subject line "Travel plans to New York". The program manager (that is, the guy heading up the whole bunch of projects we're all on) asked me to extend my stay two extra days. So I wrote back to them saying that I'd asked my boss two weeks earlier about how long he wanted me in New York. He hadn't responded, so I'd made an agreement with my project manager. Could we at least talk about it? But I just got back a curt email from my boss saying, in effect, do it.

I was mad as hell. I mean it's not as if we're in the army. We're all professionals, and if I'm being asked to do something that so interferes with my personal life, I think I'm due at least the opportunity to present my case. After fuming about it for an hour - feeling that I was ready to call up my boss and say that if this is how I was going to be treated, then I want out -, I did indeed call him, and told him, using less harsh words, that I was disappointed, and that I felt that I was being treated like a peon. But before I could get most of my words out of my mouth, he was apologizing for the tone of his email, which he said he'd dispatched in a moment of stress. So just like that, all my heat and stress evaporated, and I could get back to enjoying my vacation day with Chris.

After a walk around the drizzly, grey Castro, and brunch at Baghdad Cafe, we decided to go see Lord of the Rings for the second time each. I'd been a little disappointed the first time I saw it. But since I loved the first two episodes so much, I'd long wanted to revisit The Return of the King, and give myself a second chance with it. And I'm so glad I did. We saw it in the cavernous old Coronet Theater on Geary Boulevard. The twenty or so people in the audience looked like hobbits. I fell in love with the movie again the second time, and was frequently brimming over with tears. Such powerful scenes, and great use of the cinematic language.

Both Chris and I drank a lot last night, both at dinner, and later at the End Up, so we were both a little hung over this morning. Still, the sun was out, and it promised to be one of those beautiful early Spring San Francico days. We packed my bike into my truck, and drove down to the Marina. I ran, while Chris biked beside me, looking a little awkward perched high up on a bike seat that was positioned for a 6'6 person, even through Chris is 6'3.

In Pacific Heights

From Pacific Heights, down to the Marina

On Marin Headlands

Chris

We spent the afternoon driving all around town, admiring the beautiful houses in Pacific Heights, having a picnic lunch gazing out at the Pacific on the Marin Heights, touring the chic stores in the renovated Ferry Building, and taking coffee in the Castro, where there was a real holiday-weekend buzz which matched our coffee high. It seemed that everywhere we went, we were greeted by strangers who, like ourselves, were full of bonhommie, ready to brighten up somebody's day with a smile and a cheerful word. And we saw a newly married lesbian couple, fresh from their ceremony at City Hall. People were clapping and whooping from the balcony at the Cafe, and we added our hand claps to the applause. I think that Chris felt, as I did and do, that San Francisco is a magical place. It's a place I've fallen in love with all over again since coming back from New York.