So I am procrastinating.  Lying on the bed with the dogs (black and blonde) and Rachel and my cell phone in case Miguel texts me and video-on-trial on tv.  I should be working on the literature review and the formal proposal for my course - dissertation is on track but it's an incredible amount of work.

Went to San Francisco, last month, which was totally amazing.  I seemed to have suddenly discovered how to re-engage with my own life.  No explanations have presented themselves and been convincing, but, suddenly after a couple of years of miserableness I'm happy and involved and reading books again and watching whole movies and being my SELF.  I want to draw pictures and hang out with Miguel and I'm learning to kite-ski which is tremendous fun.  Like flying.  Except for the crashing part.  Oh, and the bit where I can only manage one direction and have to walk back across the bay after the triumphant sail towards the Loran tower.

Anyway.  San Francisco.  Crazy place full of crazy people.  All the street people have a gimmick, they want to tell you jokes or startle you or play an instrument for you and you're meant to give them money.  What mostly happened though is that we gave them cigarettes.  We were smoking in the street outside the hotel and the coffee shop down the way and Miguel made some 'friends' who would come by and ask for smokes.  We shared with them.

Alcatraz also was cool - high windows and tiny cells and a panoramic view of the mainland like they're tormenting the inhabitants.  Look at all this wonderful city.  You can't have it.