June 2005 Archives

Just 20 months ago I replaced the heat pump in my condo, to the tune of over $4,000. The original had lasted over twenty years, but finally had given up the ghost.

Yesterday evening, then, it was a shock when Jeff and I arrived home to find the temperature inside a muggy 79 degrees, the heat pump fan blowing but the compressor not on, and a tiny pool of water, mostly inside the utility closet around the base of the unit, though some also had wicked out into the hallway carpet. We put towels down, and changed them out this morning before heading to work; I also called my downstairs neighbors to let them know, and to ask them to be on the alert for any water seeping down into their utility closet.

Right away, I called the heating and cooling service company from whom I'd purchased the unit--and from whom I'd also bought an ongoing annual service contract after the first year--to be told that they can't even get someone out to look at it until next Tuesday, a week away, and that I need to keep the unit turned off until then, which should, they said, stop the water leakage. Apparently folks without service contracts have a three-week waiting period for emergency calls while the several hundred dollars I've paid to them for service means I'm lucky just to have to wait only one. One June/July week without A/C, with the temperature outside pushing 90. Lucky.

So we kept the lights off, ate salad rather than cooking a hot meal, and opened the windows and patio door overnight, hoping that the predicted rainstorms (which materialized only briefly, and only as a light rain) would cool the place down some. When we woke up this morning, the temperature inside had dropped... one degree to 78. Today all the blinds are drawn in an attempt to keep the place as dark and cool as possible, and the weather forecast again has called for rainstorms all day long; so far, though, nada.

Also, I stopped by the front desk this morning before work to speak to the building manager, and he's going to have the building's maintenance guy stop in and take a look. There's a strong suspicion from several people with whom I've spoken that this might just be a clogged drain, perhaps from lint or algae in the condensation pan, and that it might be possible to clean it out, at least well enough to keep it from leaking any more water and to let the compressor run again (if the unit is turned off and back on, the compressor will start up, but it will only run for about ten seconds or so, and then shut off again leaving only the fan running).

As if that weren't bad enough, just as we were preparing to go to bed--at just past 11, unusually early for us, but it was too hot to do much else--we had a repeat of an evening last October, when Alex was having a bout of diarrhea and got his tail covered in his loose stools. Fortunately, this time was at least a little milder--the substance was a little less liquid and was confined solely to his tail, unlike last time when it ended up smeared over more of his fur and over the carpets and floors as well--though still traumatic for him and unpleasant for us, when I again had to resort to chopping off a chunk of his tail fur, which was too badly matted to get cleaned up otherwise.

[Update: Tuesday night, June 29: We ended up only having to go one day with no air conditioning; the maintenance staff in my building were able to clean out the clog in the drain pipe that was indeed the problem, and when I got home from work the temperature already had fallen three degrees, and is now quite comfortable.]

is, of course, 42, as anyone familiar with Douglas Adams' The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy series knows. It's a nice coincidence that I was 42 when the film version of Hitchhiker was released this year. It's a number I've been seeing fairly often, recently, and indeed I had started to draft this entry back when I still had just 42 days left of being 42, but as I didn't complete and post it at the time, there's now only a little more than a month until I turn 43 at the end of July.

One reason I've seen and heard the number so often recently is because of the ubiquity in the news of a Mr. Tom Cruise, 42, of Hollywood. That realization got me to wondering who else is 42. In addition to Tom Cruise (who will also turn 43 next month, 28 days before I do), the list of those of us born in the latter half of 1962 or the first half of 1963 includes rather an attractive and talented lot. I'm in great company here.

Among the males, for example, there's:

• Bill Brochtrup;
• Farscape and Stargate's incredibly yummy Ben Browder;
• Sean Connery's son, Jason Connery;
• the sexy plumber from Desperate Housewives, James Denton;
• People Magazine's "Sexiest Man Alive" Johnny Depp (and also his 21 Jump Street co-star, Dustin Nguyen);
• the dashing Cary Elwes;
• and his equally dashing countryman Ralph Fiennes;
• Kid in the Hall Dave Foley;
• string theorist (and Harvard classmate) Brian Greene;
• John Michael Higgins, of mockumentaries Best in Show and A Mighty Wind;
• Dominic Keating, of the recently cancelled Star Trek: Enterprise;
• two Red Hot Chili Peppers, Flea and Anthony Kiedis;
• Greg Kinnear;
• notoriously well-endowed Tommy Lee;
• Jet Li;
• Andrew McCarthy, brat pack star of St. Elmo's Fire, Pretty in Pink and Weekend at Bernie's;
• Buffy's pal Spike, James Marsters;
• Strictly Ballroom's Paul Mercurio;
• John Cameron Mitchell;
• cutie Rob Morrow, from the quirky Northern Exposure;
• Mike Myers, oh, behave;
• another Harvard classmate, Conan O'Brien;
• Survivor host Jeff Probst;
• 1992 Playgirl "Man of the Year" Dirk Shafer;
• Wesley Snipes, born the same day as me;
• Oscar-winning Director Steven Soderbergh;
• The Daily Show's funny and handsome anchor, Jon Stewart;
• Quentin Tarantino;
• B.D. Wong;
• athletes Charles Barkley, Roger Clemens, Doug Flutie, Evander Holyfield, and Michael Jordan;
• and not a few porn stars, including Colton Ford, Jon King, Jon Vincent and Jeff "Powertool" Stryker.

And, among the women:

• funny girl Joan Cusack;
• Cruise's hooker Lana in Risky Business, Rebecca De Mornay;
• fellow Ivy Leaguer (and if the rumors are true, that's not all she and I have in common) Jodie Foster;
• diva Denyce Graves;
• one of James Denton's co-stars on Desperate Housewives, Felicity Huffman;
• perennial Sports Illustrated swimsuit model Kathy Ireland;
• supermodel Elle Macpherson;
• Deep Space Nine's sexiest Bajoran, Chase Masterson;
• just like me, with her own 28-year-old boyfriend, Demi Moore;
• Nancy O'Dell;
• Mrs. John Travolta, Kelly Preston;
• Natasha Richardson;
• Laura San Giacomo;
• Rob Morrow's Northern Exposure co-star Janine Turner;
• Nia Vardalos;
• Vanessa Williams;
• and sexy Bond girl and Crouching Tiger heroine Michelle Yeoh.

Jim Carrey, Jon Bon Jovi and Matthew Broderick are other famous 1962ers, but with birthdays in January (Carrey) and March (Bon Jovi and Broderick), they're already 43, as are Sheryl Crow, Rosie O'Donnell and yet another Desperate Housewives co-star, Marcia Cross, born in February (Crow) and March (O'Donnell and Cross). Grant Show, also on Desperate Housewives, was born in February, 1962; that show seems to have a very strong 1962 connection.

Saturday night, I dreamed that my mom bought me a car that was simultaneously a digital camera. When first describing the dream to Jeff, I couldn't recall if the car actually shrank to the size of a portable camera, or if the camera detached from the car. As I've continued to recall details from the dream, however, I believe it was the former.

As a car, it looked like something out of the heyday of wide bodies and fins, with a convertible top and a smooth chrome steering wheel as large as a hula hoop. However, this car had a secondary dashboard and steering wheel on the driver's side door, permitting it to be driven widthwise rather than only lengthwise; in my dream, for example, I drove up to a parallel parking space, and then turned 45 degrees in my seat to face the secondary wheel and display, so that I could back into the spot rather than actually having to parallel park.

But although the car itself had a classic 1950s look, as a camera it was definitely high-tech and digital. There were slots on the dashboard for two of each common kind of storage card, and the car's GPS navigation system digitally stamped each photo with the location where it was taken. If you turned the switch on the glovebox to the right, it opened normally for storage; if you turned it to the left, however, it opened onto a digital photo printer with a variety of specialized photo papers in various paper trays.

One of the details I've remembered that leads me to believe that the car actually shrank--a la the Jetsons suitcase-car--when being used as a camera, rather than the camera being a detachable part of the car, is that in camera mode the headlights acted as the flash, while the closing and opening convertable ragtop gave the car-camera the appearance of a folding Polaroid SX-7.

Yesterday afternoon, Jeff and I drove over to Ballston (in North Arlington, just a couple miles away) for the Signature Theatre's free summer concert, "Signature Sings Broadway in Ballston." We think of Signature as "our" theater; it's physically located in Arlington County, as opposed to downtown in the District, and we've seen a number of shows there together. It's also particularly gay-friendly (even as theaters go), and we like to support it. It also has a reputation for doing great Sondheim, including at least one Sondheim show every season.

Yesterday, the theater hosted a live outdoor concert featuring six local actors who frequently perform at Signature singing sixteen selections from a variety of Broadway musicals, including (and seen here) "A Little Priest" from Sondheim's Sweeney Todd and "Agony" from his Into the Woods. It was a beautiful day, and the concert was great fun. Afterwards we walked over to the Ballston Mall, where we'd parked the car, and had margaritas and dinner at Chevy's.

In addition to these two shots of the performers, and the other shown here of two ladies shielding their eyes from the sun with Woodsy Owl fans, I took a number of photos; the rest can be seen, as I upload them, on my Flickr site under the tag "broadway in ballston".

elfintech posted a photo:

Last Sunday was my aunt and uncle's 50th wedding anniversary; Jeff and I were home visiting, because it was also the day before my mom's 62nd birthday (and the first Father's Day since my grandfather died, and only the second since my father died).

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elfintech posted a photo:

the striatic on the far right, along with the background, is the original photo; as he was talking, I took two other shots from the same spot, and then cut him out of those and superimposed them next to himself in the original.

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Many opponents of gay marriage are not just against the marriage part, but have an absolute "conviction that homosexuality is a sin, is immoral, harms children and spreads disease"; they have no patience for those who seek even "tolerance".

Via del.icio.us/elfintech

with straight men adopting fashion much more quickly, and gay men feeling free to be slobs, gaydar is less reliable than ever

Via del.icio.us/elfintech

the organic style of Eva Zeisel, one of my favorite mid-century designers, is finding a contemporary clientele (Crate and Barrel has just reissued some of her pieces, and the dishware and glassware in the Incredibles feel like copies of her work)

elfintech posted a photo:

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elfintech posted a photo:

Tampen photographs striatic

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elfintech posted a photo:

Mommie Dearest on a giant inflatable screen in Stead Park near Dupont Circle, the first Screen on Stead offering this summer to benefit the DC GLBT Center

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elfintech posted a photo:

emily ann

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I just got my first car insurance bill since my accident back in April. In 3626 [thanks to Gene for noticing the error in my math] years of driving I've never even gotten a moving violation (update: I just remembered that I did get one ticket a few years ago for turning red on right at an intersection where "no right turn on red" signs were present; the intersection previously had permitted for right turns, and I hadn't seen the signs, which had only gone up shortly beforehand, but still I did screw up on that one, but I paid for it with a hefty fine) and only two parking tickets, but in the past five years I've been involved in two very minor fender benders (though I wasn't charged in either of them). Jumping at the opportunity, though, GEICO, to whom I've paid tens of thousands of dollars in insurance premiums over the last twenty years, though they've had to pay out only about $1K in all that time, just raised my insurance rates by $505 annually, an increase of 44%.

Life sucks.

Don't get me wrong; I absolutely love Google Maps, especially the incorporation of satellite imagery, but the default-level U.S. map strikes me as a bit odd.

OK, so the West seems pretty straightforward, with city dots pretty much where you'd expect at this high-level view, where we find dots labeled San Francisco and Los Angeles, Portland and Spokane (though Seattle is oddly missing, with Port Angeles labeled instead), Las Vegas, Phoenix, etc. The midwest and southwest, too, have the expected pointers for Denver, Dallas, Houston, Kansas City, Chicago, etc.

But the East Coast, Atlantic Seaboard and South are rather puzzling. Sure, Boston and New York are there, and the District of Columbia is pointed out (albeit as though it were a state rather than as the city of Washington), but most of the other cities plotted in these regions at this view make no sense to me; many of them I've never even heard of.

Virginia, for example, has no cities bulleted at all, no Richmond or Norfolk, nor are there any population centers of note in Maryland, West Virginia, Georgia or either Carolina. Baltimore, Atlanta and Miami are absent. Instead, we have such cities as North Port (FL) and Bedford (PA). Louisville is here, but not the one you might have guessed; no, this Louisville is not in Kentucky, but in upstate New York, which state also boasts the apparently world-class cities of Fine, Long Lake, Olive and Hancock. There's also a Dennis plotted on this map view, but Google Maps itself doesn't even seem to know whether it's in Pennsylvania, Delaware, New York or New Jersey (it's the latter).

Whuh? Do the Stanford whiz kids working at Google really know so little about East Coast geography?

Yesterday evening, Jeff and I met up with two other DC Flickrites--Tampen and Finiky--to welcome striatic and emily ann as they breezed through DC on their way to Virginia Beach and beyond, during the striatic does america tour.

It was a fun hour or so, walking around Union Station and the Capitol, chatting and taking photographs of the area and one another. I just wish they'd been able to stick around longer, and that more of the DC Flickr community had been available to come out at that time of day.

My other photos of the meetup will be up on Flickr, of course, as I get them uploaded.

This past weekend we made a quick visit (down on Saturday morning and back Sunday evening) to see my Mom and the rest of the family. Between Father's Day on Sunday (the first since Mom's dad's death, and only the second since my dad's), Mom's birthday on Monday, and some other family troubles, I knew that it might otherwise be a difficult weekend for her, and I hadn't been home since Christmas (though she and I had spent time together in April, when Jeff and I took her to Manhattan), so we decided to visit even though we knew it would have to be short.

Before heading to Mom's house, I took Jeff over to see the acre of riverfront property I own just down the road, and then to the nearby "camp"--a cabin on the river originally owned jointly by my grandfather and his best friend, whose latter share has now been offered for sale to my mother--where my family spent many summer weekends when I was a kid.

Saturday evening we went to a cookout--chili dogs, potato salad and deviled eggs for days--at my Mom's church, where a gospel-bluegrass quintet--a father on guitar and lead vocals, sons on mandolin and banjo, and two friends, one on bass and the other providing female harmony vocals--was performing. Towards the end of the evening, my cousin and his wife brought out a cake in honor of my aunt and uncle's 50th wedding anniversary that day as well (meanwhile, this week also marks the second anniversary of Jeff's and my first date), and we topped off our full bellies with cake and ice cream. Later that night, Jeff asked to see pictures of me as a kid, so we broke out the photo albums for a while before walking over to my sister's house to spend some time with her family.

On Sunday, we met up with the rest of the family for lunch after their church service, and then we spent a couple hours at my sister's house again before leaving there around 4 to be home by 8. A heavy rain began a little earlier in the afternoon and accompanied us off and on about the first 45 miles, but by the time we were passing through Lexington the rain had stopped and the weather was delightful and clear the rest of the trip home.

Jeff also has posted about the weekend, during which he was much more at ease than during his only other trip to Covington in February 2004, and about the little ways in which our 15-year age difference, normally not something we find particularly meaningful or apparent, sometimes does make itself known. My little Ashton, for example, was born the year Elvis died, whereas at 15 I remembered where I was when I heard the news of his death (not that I especially liked Elvis, but because my family and I were on a road trip at the time it made more of a lasting impression than it probably otherwise would).

the conservative religious right is not the only voice representing American Christians, just perhaps the shrillest

Via del.icio.us/elfintech

a review of the new Nikon D50

Via del.icio.us/elfintech

we're hoping to go to Toronto in July 2006 for the Gaylaxicon

Via del.icio.us/elfintech

New York restaurants debate whether participation in Restaurant Week is worthwhile

elfintech posted a photo:

My boss (in the salmon skirt and jacket) and I were asked to give a brief presentation to the Secretary of State last week. Here I am showing off some of our work to the Secretary.

These pictures were taken not by me, but by a staff photographer.

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elfintech posted a photo:

My boss and I were asked to give a brief presentation to the Secretary of State last week. Here I am showing off some of our work to the Secretary.

These pictures were taken not by me, but by a staff photographer.

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elfintech posted a photo:

My boss and I were asked to give a brief presentation to the Secretary of State last week. Here I am showing off some of our work to the Secretary.

These pictures were taken not by me, but by a staff photographer.

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Last night we had an evening on 14th Street, in Jeff's old neighborhood. After dinner at Hamburger Mary's and dessert at Caribou Coffee, we saw a One in Ten benefit performance of the excellent Take Me Out at The Studio Theatre. We had talked about going, but then I'd gotten it confused with another gay-themed show currently playing in the area, and had procrastinated about getting tickets, not realizing that it was a benefit and likely would sell out. On Monday, though, Jeff got us on a waiting list, and yesterday afternoon he got word that some tickets had come available after all.

The show--which won the 2003 Tony Award for "Best Play"--was riveting. A caution: It's not for everyone. Many members of my family, for example, would find the strong language and the frequent and prolonged male nudity troublesome at best. Most readers of this blog, though, would not; and many might even find the latter, at least, an additional reason to appreciate the play. Moreover, both the language and nudity, though quite prominent, were integral to this story--the group showers in the locker room provide some critical insights for several of the major characters, and for the audience in our understanding of the impact of nakedness--emotional as well as physical--on these men specifically and, by extension, men more generally.

Most local press wrote glowing reviews (Washington Post, Washingtonian, Washington Blade, even the normally gay-unfriendly Washington Times) for this production, and my only disagreement with any of them might be with their strong praise for M.D. Walton, the actor playing the main protagonist, Darren Lemming, the bi-racial baseball player who comes out of the closet in the play's first five minutes. Though I know that smugness is part of the character's personality, Walton came across to me as just a bit too self-pleased, making it difficult at times for me to see past him to the character he was playing; he seemed to crack himself up in ways that simply broke the illusion for me that he was anything other than an actor playing a role.

The actors in the other three central parts, though, were incredible, in fact, nearly perfect. Rick Foucheux gave perhaps the best and most believable performance I've seen all year, as the nebbish gay financial manager, discovering in baseball, through his association with Darren, a truly life-changing philosophy and passion. I don't know if straight audiences feel the same connection to Mason Marzac, but last night there was definitely a strong empathy from the particular crowd in attendance. And the first-act monologue on how baseball is democracy taken to its purest and truest ideal--better even than our practice of political democracy--provides one of the most incredible pieces of writing and acting I've encountered. And it made me want to learn more about baseball, to feel some of that same strange blend of passion, mystery and, yes, innocence.

Jake Suffian, playing the ignorant, bigoted, yet in some ways eerily childlike and trusting relief pitcher Shane Mungitt, is spot-on in the role. With his mullet and deer-in-the-headlights blank stare--so at odds with the stunningly handsome headshot in the playbill--he presented a frighteningly convincing portrait of the troubled--and trouble-causing--hillbilly, the catalyst at the heart of the play's darkest moments and of the discovery of its hidden, disturbing truths.

Finally but not least, Tug Coker was incredibly sympathetic and believable--as well as breathtakingly gorgeous--as Darren's best friend on the team, the unusually cerebral and paternal Kippy Sunderstrom, the show's well-intentioned--with all the pitfalls good intentions guarantee--heart and mind to Darren's ego, Shane's id and Mason's soul.

The New York Times reports on the difficulty short/small men have in finding clothes that fit well.

So... Should I continue posting to this blog at all? If so, what's working in the concept and design, and what's not? I haven't actually checked my stats in quite a while, so my current impressions are based more on intuition than hard data, but I suspect that readership and interest have waned significantly, especially if comments and trackbacks are any indication. That never mattered to me overmuch, since all along this journal has been as much for my own benefit than for an external audience, but as work, my relationship and my other online interests--like Flickr--continue to vie for my attention, and additionally as I've increasingly avoided talking about the more intimate details of parts of my life--notably romantic and professional--where I know the people involved are reading the blog, I've begun to wonder if this exercise really has (if it ever did) any continued relevance for others.

If so, are there things you'd prefer I did differently? For example, would you rather I separated the quicklinks and/or the photos more distinctly from the personally written entries? Should I provide separate RSS feeds for the links and photos, rather than consolidating them all into a single feed as I do now? Are the personal entries themselves just too few and far between, or lack sufficient intimacy to keep you interested and engaged?

I'm looking for honest--though, I hope, constructive and respectfully offered--criticism. I'm open to suggestions, receptive to change, and even willing to hear that this site just isn't particularly relevant or engaging. I no longer need to post here solely for myself, since I have plenty of other good tools--flickr, del.icio.us, to name just two--for managing my links, photos and other data. And I have a partner with which to discuss most of the personal thoughts, emotions and fears I might once have shared here more intimately, lacking other outlets nor fearing reprisal. On the other hand, I'm not averse to continuing writing here, whether the site remains as is or evolves based on comments and suggestions, if there's a sense that it has some value to others.

I look forward to hearing your thoughts on the matter, whether through comments posted here or through private email, and I thank you for your consideration.

elfintech posted a photo:

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elfintech posted a photo:

In September 1996, the Victory '95 World War II Memorial was dedicated at Heartland of America Park in downtown Omaha. The memorial, dedicated on the occasion of the 50th anniversary of the end of World War II, was created by John Labja, with the financial support of local industry. The memorial depicts four scenes that are reminiscent of those who served in the military and at home during World War II.

The memorial depicts the following four scenes:
Returning Soldier with Children
Rosie the Riveter
Young Boy Gathering Scrap Metal
Farm Family with Folded American Flag

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elfintech posted a photo:

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elfintech posted a photo:

(http://www.flickr.com/photos/thomwatson/18441593/ is the direct link, as this photo doesn't seem to show up on my photo page; perhaps it's the larger than usual vertical aspect ratio)

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elfintech posted a photo:

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elfintech posted a photo:

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elfintech posted a photo:

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elfintech posted a photo:

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elfintech posted a photo:

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[ also, see the view looking back from the other side ]

I have an uncomfortable confession to make: today I met and, together with my boss, gave a presentation to the Secretary of State and, one on one, at least, found her really quite charming.

I feel like I can't really say anything about her visit more generally (I do need this job, after all), but in the five minutes I spent with her she came across as genuinely pleasant and witty, sincerely interested in the work our division is doing, and additionally pleasantly surprised and disarmed by my addressing her first in Russian. In fact, she was significantly more intrigued by the range of multimedia distance learning courses we produce than her staff had intimated, and she asked specifically for copies of some of the courses she thought would be particularly helpful for her as she brushes up on her Russian and prepares to travel to cities for which we have specific computer-based informational products.

I'm exhilirated that our presentation went so well (the Secretary specifically mentioned it in her later remarks), but completely exhausted as well, after all the preparation and intense scrutiny.

elfintech posted a photo:

A week earlier we'd gone to see the Kinsey Sicks at the Birchmere, then out for coffee and dessert.

For our second outing on July 14, 2003, to see Cat on a Hot Tin Roof at Screen on the Green on the National Mall, I bought a picnic basket backpack especially for the occasion, and brought dinner and drinks.

elfintech posted a photo:

A week earlier we'd gone to see the Kinsey Sicks at the Birchmere, then out for coffee and dessert.

For our second outing on July 14, 2003, to see Cat on a Hot Tin Roof at Screen on the Green on the National Mall, I bought a picnic basket backpack especially for the occasion, and brought dinner and drinks.

elfintech posted a photo:

elfintech posted a photo:

Is it too much to ask that NPR hire announcers who know how to pronounce reasonably common words? It's bad enough that they've adopted more and more a rightward tilt in their news programming, but I still listen because, well, what's the alternative?

But if I hear the announcer offer up a three-syllable "sat-ur-in" one more time during the sponsorship attributions, as though the auto manufacturer were some new pharmaceutical useful for thinning the blood or reducing cholesterol, I may just drop the radio into my bath or, worse, switch over to FOX Radio.

After five and a half days away, Jeff gets back to DC National late tonight around 12:30 a.m. He had Friday and Monday off, so he added two days of annual leave in order to have a nice long trip to California to see his parents and a college friend. Originally I was planning to go, too, but after all the travel we've been doing the last couple of months (New York and Omaha in April, and Seattle in May) and a potential upcoming conference in Montreal (though I think I'm going to try to get out of that), I just wasn't keen on another five-hour plane ride so soon. So I ended up spending my entire Memorial Day weekend alone at home in a kind of an odd funk, never leaving the building (and only leaving my own condo once on Saturday to pick up the mail).

It wasn't a horrible funk. While I did sleep weird hours (well, most people would consider them weird, but for me it seems fairly normal; whenever I've had a few days to settle into what seems to be my personal circadian rhythm, I tend to stay up until dawn and then sleep until noon), I didn't sleep inordinate depressive-style amounts, averaging about seven hours each day. And I even remembered to eat and shower, albeit only once a day or so for the former, and only twice in three days for the latter.

But I wasn't quite myself; normally I'd have been delighted to have three guilt-free days to game until I drop, but I ended up not logging onto World of Warcraft even once. I did get a number of old photos processed and uploaded, but I didn't pick up the camera once over the weekend. Partly I think my current mood is due to a more general ennui; now that the move to California is starting to acquire some shape out of its former misty translucent formlessness, for example, even if it's still a year or more off, I'm feeling restless. I'm so ready to leave this job I'm in, yet at the same time terribly anxious that I won't be able to find work in San Francisco. I love my condo and Arlington, but some days I feel like I want to sell everything I own and just go there, right NOW!

But on top of that sort of transitory if not infrequent state of disquietude, I've particularly really missed having Jeff around, and I'm very much looking forward to having him back home with me tonight. On several of the photos of the two of us that he's posted online, others have commented that we look like we're very much in love. And I think they're right. And sometimes it really amazes me to realize that.