good morning, dear readers. i slept later than i had intended to today.
since my first few posts have centered on athens, georgia [as i'm sure many future ones will], i'd like to shift gears and talk a little bit about how much i love san francisco, the place where i hang my hat. or i guess you could say that san francisco is where my wife lives, and that home to me is wherever she is [awww...]. last week we were back on the east coast in both atlanta* and north carolina** and this trip solidified, just as sure as that jerry fallwell is in hell and that pat robertson is next, how felicitous our living in san francisco is.
i mentioned a second ago that my wife let me sleep in a little bit this morning [she gets up everyday around seven, i don't]. i'm a heavy sleeper, like the bush administration in the middle of a national disaster. sometimes i even sleepwalk and do funny things: if we're ever in a bar together, ask me about to regale you with some of my funnier somnolent adventures.
subsequently it turns out that, as anyone who has ever lived with me will now attest, my internal body clock has always been set to pacific standard time. i can not tell you the peace this simple fact-- and a fact it is-- brought to me. that for twenty- eight years, living in the southeast as i did, i'd been fighting forces beyond my control, things like circadian rythms and sleep inertia and confused arousal. no wonder i'd been so fucked- up for so long, you know?
so again, the wife and i were back east last week and i was just not myself. not the person i am when i'm at home in sf. i was irritable as hell in the daytime, especially as it pertained to the overabundance of stupid fucking traffic, and drunk as hell in the evening, especially as it pertained to it no longer being daytime. this went on for days and never exactly seemed to relent. i was making my wife crazy. i longed for the fog and fucked- up beauty of sf.
by the time the weekend rolled around the beauty and excitement of the wedding festivities was enough to temporarily ward off any bad mojo brought on by the problems with my body clock. it was a beautiful weekend all around, from the bride to the autumnal leaves to having all those wonderful people [re: my crazy fucking friends] within arms reach.
that being said, it was such a relief getting home. home to sf, where my body breathes easy and is at peace. home to sf, where i wish all the people i was with last weekend lived. home to sf, where i am the luckiest guy in the world.
*i was born there, twice: once at northside hospital in september of 1977 and then again at a bar in midtown in july of 2004 when i met my wife.
**seeing one of my best friends marry an absolutely awesome gentleman. i only wonder if they'll have physically fit, freakishly- attractive blonde babies.