Saturday Morning

I’m spending my Sunday morning cooking collard greens.

I remember when Sunday mornings used to be about hangovers and trying to get rid of whatever trash I’d picked up on Saturday night. Today, however, I got up at 9, went out for some breakfast, stopped by the bank (where I had to stand in LINE behind annoyingly perky yupsters in jogging drag), and came home to the pot, the greens, the salt pork (why can’t you buy fatback in California?), and “In the Heat of the Night” re-runs on TNT.

Yer humble host is feeling pretty damned domesticated this week, although there’s no danger of wedded bliss or a house in the suburbs. The thought of being coupled and having to spend every waking moment with someone else in close proximity is no more appealing now than it ever was, although the house part doesn’t sound too bad. But not in the suburbs, thank you. Maybe in Minnesota or Detroit.

Maybe this is all just leftovers from my trip home. Who knows?

Collards and Websites

So who would have thought you could find fresh collards in California in January. And at someplace as generic as Safeway yet? This bodes well for Sunday dinner, a belated New Year’s Day “good luck” meal at a friend’s house.

Web work makes for strange bedfellows. It seems there will be a Wintel machine in my house this weekend. I’m getting it ready to serve up a database for one of my sites. Until now I’ve managed never to have a Windozer in my home.

I’ll have to keep it away from all the good computers lest they become contaminated by it. I’d hate for my Mac to start displaying everything with big ugly fonts and for it to start calling itself “My Computer”. Sounds a little too much like a Fisher-Price toy.

Long weekend ahead.

Random Stuff

Between all the leftover work I avoided over Christmas and all and the fact that I’ve been sleeping off a really nasty bug all day, I am neither caught up on the website nor the email. I have, at least, managed to upload the first part of the North Carolina trip.

Other things I could be writing about but I’m not (just yet) might include whining about whatever this bug is that I’ve managed to pick up. I could discuss how pissed I am that I can’t get ADSL, even here in San Francisco’s most “wired” neighborhood.

I could include the fact that I got email from Strange de Jim (of Herb Caen fame). I could write about how I’m really starting to get serious about leaving San Francisco. I could tell the story of the disturbing graffiti which appeared on my front door this weekend.

I could even talk about that Leif Garrett documentary from Sunday night.

But I’m not going to get into any of this right now. I’m going back to bed.

Home

Back in San Francisco. Woopty-do. Less than a day back in town and I’m already smoking more and eating junk food again.

I may never again travel over the Christmas holidays. I really shouldn’t complain. I didn’t get stranded under eighteen inches of snow in Chicago like so many people did. I didn’t get stuck in Las Vegas without benefit of a hotel room like my roomie almost did. I didn’t have to rent a car and drive from Memphis like another friend did.

Actually, I had a great time at home in the land of Mom, Dad, and assorted friends and relatives. Details and some really bitchin’ pictures coming soon.

But I hate traveling at Christmas all the same. There were lines. There were delayed flights. There was ice. There were 13 degree nights. And I didn’t find myself in a single redeneck love nest.

Thanks to everyone who sent Christmas cards, email, etc. while I was gone. And thanks in advance to everyone who will continue to wait patiently while I catch up on answering said email. Give me a couple of days.

Last Day

Had the traditional late night “last night at home” talk with Dad last night. I miss having my parents nearby. The older I get, the more I find that I really like them (not that I doubted it before). I think it’s time to move back to someplace which is at least a little closer to home. Not Greensboro, probably not even North Carolina, but maybe Richmond or Atlanta, or Baltimore, or Philadelphia. Who knows? This brings up the same old “what am I going to do with my life” anxiety which I’m not in the mood to deal with right now.

Everything just seems so much saner away from San Francisco. The stress level is so much lower. People live in actual houses, with big rooms and porches and heat that works. No one feels trapped at home by the fact that leaving the house means giving up your parking space. Gas is cheaper. Cigarettes are cheaper. Food is cheaper (and better). Rent is cheaper. Everything is cheaper.

I’m sitting in Charlotte-Douglas International Airport. I spent an hour checking in and almost had a heart attack running to the gate with five minutes to spare, only to find my flight delayed 90 minutes. Now they’ve added another half hour on top of that.

I just spent $3.00 and ended up with five sticks of gum, a newspaper, and a cheap Bic pen. Then I shelled out $2.50 for a Coke at the bar so could smoke. I hate airports. I hate flying.

I’m going home to San Francisco. For a while, anyway…