Over my shoulder, the bay, the San Francisco skyline, amazingly visible on this miserable day. Had the weather been nicer I'd probably be lying beneath a redwood in Muir Woods right now, letting mother nature be my inspiration, as opposed to the martini glass from which I sip right now. Judging by how stiff my writing is right now, I think I need to take a few more sips.

I was looking forward to this weekend for a while, if not just for the idea of getting away from LA, then for getting dressed up and attending a wedding with a "friend" from grad school. Friend in quotes, yeah, I have no idea what she is. The weekend was weird ... I really came with no expectations, aside from good conversation and getting to know someone a little better. What I got was a total rebuke at most every attempt at interpersonal communication I made. What do you do when you walk up to a person, start talking, and find them immediately turning somewhere else, to talk to someone else? This is the person I shared a plane flight, hotel room, and wedding invitation with this weekend...

Of course, it was her wedding invitation ... and I guess I was just invited as a trophy (thanks to Luny and DLJ for that terminology) -- so I got nice and buzzed at the reception, took a lot of cigarette breaks, danced a little bit, had a microphone thrust into my hand during the toasts (don't ask how that happened - a strange chain of events) and didn't embarass myself too much in front of a roomful of complete strangers, hardly knowing the bride and groom as I did, or did not.

Sometime last night she decided she wanted to leave early this morning (as opposed to the 6:30 pm we were booked on) so I agreed to drive her to the airport at 10am, kind of surprising her by opting to spend my sunday afternoon in the Bay Area and not rush back to Los Angeles.

Oh well.

Drove from the airport back to the city, saw an incredible accident on the Bay Bridge (a car was flipped over and in pieces), and finally joined Lunesse and DLJ for brunch at a crepe place (the name escapes me) on 16th Street near Valencia.

Seeing DLJ and Luny turned out to be the highlight of the weekend, especially in light of all the difficulties I'm having in my work/love/personal life right now, it's good to see two people who "work" -- and I mean that word in the most abstract sense ... they give me hope, in every sense of _that_ word ("hope", that is), whatever it may be, that there is that someone out there, that the whole "two halves of the same whole" thing is not completely bullshit ... I dunno, I'm rambling -- it's not so much that they're perfect together, because I think that would ruin the whole thing, since perfection doesn't exist, but then again they are just totally right, if that makes sense. I become more comfortable with myself when I'm around them.

After brunch we headed down the street to Body Mutilations (um, make that "manipulations"), where Lunesse wanted to get another hole poked in her right ear. On a semi-whim, I decided to get a first hole poked in my own right ear, an idea I've been toying with off and on for five years or so. Lunesse went first, which only heightened my fear and anticipation (the last time I had anything pierced was over ten years ago, "anything" being the upper hole in my left ear, a bastion of problems and infection that has since closed itself over. It wasn't meant to be, I guess) -- So Vaughn the Body Mutilator shoved the needle through Luny's lobe, and she didn't even flinch, not even a slight change of facial expression. A quick smile, she ran out to show DLJ, and I was in the Chair. Vaughn the Friendly Body Mutilator marked a spot on my ear with a brand new Sharpie marker (which became a souvenir that they made me keep for sanitary reasons), pretty perfectly vertically aligned with the lower hole in my left ear, and then he remarked that my earlobes are assymetrical. At this point I was in the smiling "yeah, whatever, let's get this over with" mindset...

"OK, slow deep breath"

I breathed, slowly and deeply.

I don't think I flinched, although about three seconds after the fact I think I said something like "That fucking hurt." And I think Lunesse nodded in agreement.

DLJ and Lunesse led me by car to the Golden Gate Bridge, and then Luny's arm stuck out the window, pointing to the Sausalito exit, which I cut across two lanes to take. I was looking for an oyster bar where I could plop down, do some writing, eat some raw seafood, and drink some vodka. Well, now I'm plopped down, doing some writing, and drinking some vodka.

Something's missing.

I'm craving oysters, big time.

Maybe I'm just craving love, and oysters are an aphrodisiac, right? Hmmm...

Either way, I'm gonna head back into San Francisco pretty soon and find a real oyster bar (I can't believe there are no oyster bars in Sausalito) -- first I may find a bookstore here and look for one of those Zagat guides so I know where I'm going.

Four hours til my flight. More later.

Got my oysters, thanks to Lunesse, who directed me to San Rafael and a really great oyster bar with really shitty service. The dude serving me acted like he was doing me a favor by taking my money.

Our plane was supposed to leave six minutes ago, but it hasn't even left Burbank yet. So here I sit in Oakland on a sunday night, lost in my thoughts, waiting for the owners of the three half-finished beers on our table to return from the snack bar. How many times have I sat in this airport complaining to myself about delayed flights on Southwest? Someday I'll learn...