Photo by Josun

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For more than seven days, we've had gorgeous Summer-like weather here in the Bay Area. I don't recall ever getting sustained weather like this during early Spring. And, in fact, it's rare that this kind of weather pattern ever lasts this long before being defeated by the fog cycle. So everybody has been in a cheeful mood. I worked at home most days, and was able to take time out to go for a run over the neighboring hills in the beautiful warmth.

Since I came back from LA last Monday, B and I have been exchanging frequent emails, and it's becoming apparent that we really like each other. But, of course, there is the distance. At any rate, we will see each other during the White Party in Palm Springs early next month, and more importantly, we will see much of each other in August and September. I decided weeks ago that I wanted to go on a gay cruise, but I did some research and found out that all the best cruises were already fully booked up for this year. I was telling B about this, and it turns out he's going on the very Mediterranean cruise I'd been most interested in. He'd paid for a double room, but hadn't yet settled on a roommate. And along comes Keith just at the right time.

So I'm going on the cruise: Venice to Barcelona, with stops in Naples, Athens (on the night of the closing ceremonies of the Olympics), Mykonos, Ephesus and Sicily. And afterwards, B and I will take the train to Bilbao, to see the Guggenheim, then on to Paris to stay with my friend Jean-Marc for a few days. B will depart for London, while Jean-Marc and I take a train trip to Prague via Berlin. Seven countries in all - maybe eight (is Sicily a country?) It looks like I'll need to take a month off work to fit it all in.

Despite everything - the cruise, meeting B, the weather, and the two guys I'm dating here in San Francisco - I find that I'm a little down right now. I can't put my finger on why. I'm not really depressed - it's more that I frequently find myself, when alone, lacking the feeling of contentment that should go with a life that's generally going so well right now. I don't know if it's related to the death of my Mother a year ago last week. Other odd coincidences: the breathlessness that I experienced this time last year is back again.

I think my work schedule is getting to me. During the week, it seems all encompassing. One day last week, I got my first phone call from work at 7.30 in the morning, and I was still working at 9.30 in the evening that day. I'm wondering what I've let myself in for.

Yesteday afternoon, I met up with an old friend of mine, Jim, from grad school. I guess I met him eighteen years ago when I was a newly arrived, very green graduate student at U. Penn. To my eyes, he was the type of worldly, cultured, patrician American that you'd expect to meet at an Ivy League school. I was flattered by his gravitation towards me. We became firm friends. He was tall, athletic, with a craggy Greek face - people took to talking about us as the two towers. I believe there were even rumors that we were an item, despite my being in the closet at the time. In fact, Jim was the 2nd person I came out to, and his unsurprised acceptance of my sexuality was a great comfort.

Jim and I ultimately had a falling out years later, but we've stayed distantly in touch over the years. Jim, whose family live in the Bay Area, spent a few years in Utah, and we met up for brunch one afternoon when he and his new wife, Jenny, were visiting San Francisco. Then, last year, I was having dinner in Berkeley with Brett when I saw his unmistakable profile pass the window of the restaurant, pushing a baby stroller. I dashed out to say hello, and we exchanged phone numbers. Due to my six months in New York, it's taken us this long to finally get together. He turns out to live just a few blocks away from Brett in a small arts and craftsman bungalow. I'd have known I was at the right address by the Volvo outside the door, with a Columbia sticker in the back window.

Inside, the entire house seemed given over to baby maintenance. It's a tough job, and I'm happy some people chose to do it. Before I could say anything, Jenny thrust their 18 month old girl into my arms. The baby leaned back and giggled into my face, wide-eyed, clutching at the collar of my shirt. I can't say I'm overly fond of children, but she was a cute little puppy. Jim and I soon escaped and took a leisurely stroll up to Shattuck Avenue for a Starbucks, then sat down in a little park, catching up. He didn't seem to have changed at all. Still the same earnest liberalism, and eclectic observations. I detected a shade of disappointment in him; I don't think he's achieved what he set out to do. He was an idealist back at Penn, taking the same program as I was (Alternative Energy and Development) out of a genuine desire to improve the world (unlike me who took it because I couldn't think of anything else and it seemed like a good idea at the time). But either he feels he hasn't made any difference, or he's become reconciled that there's only so much any one person can do.