It was the first real day of spring in San Francisco. A day that makes you hopeful. On my way to my MUNI stop at the top of Dolores Park, I saw an attractive woman stripping down to her bikini. I couldn�t help gawking, just a little. She was the first sunbather I�ve seen this year.

It�s been over a week since the break-up, and things aren�t so bad. Now. It�s funny how time works. The weekend was bad. Like bad stupid. I would hope after all this time that I�d be adult enough to handle something like a simple break-up (even if it was nine months) like �an adult,� but it�s obvious now that this thing called adulthood is actually some kind of myth.

That moment dawned on me sometime late Sunday night. I was at Divas singing karaoke, gawking at a bunch of transsexuals, and I had to ask myself. Who do I think I am? Eddie Murphy? I had been drunk pretty much five days, and I suddenly felt a bit more sober. It was quite a feat, since I had started drinking at two that afternoon. That was over ten hours, kids!

Anyway, though I tried to have a decent amount of sleep, the cumulative bingeing over the weekend made me look pretty awful when I walked into work on Monday. And Tuesday, too. It wasn�t until I forced myself to go on a long run on Wednesday, that I felt like I had somehow purged a lot of the toxins in my body.

Now to the breakup. Not really a breakup, just a break. I�m hopeful, since there were so many reasons to be together. And now it�s spring, and there are so many things I want to share with someone.

But then again, who knows. There�s always the weekend ahead.

music:

night life:

sex life: