So today is Nadia's birthday.And because I have been avoiding her since I arrived (drugs,hipsters,drama-oh my!)Her birthday has morphed into a dinner party and I am cooking.The powers that be (mutual friends) figured I'd hide away so they decided to throw the party at the place where I am staying at-so I couldn't get lost on the way. Sneaky,very sneaky!That is why men often find themselves putting rings on fingers or holding a loaded gun-and are not sure why. Women get together,plot and get in your head. It is just what we do.

I wish you were here. You could be my wing man for the party, though I guess technically you are a breast man-but you get it. You could be a forcefield against all the gaunt-faced hipsters and their "ironic" clothing.Or you could bring your brothers and let them guess whether or not they are philosophers, or well...your brothers.

Then afterwards we could slip out to a dive bar, have a few overpriced cocktails,and I would show you the city. I would show you how to tell time by where the fog sits on the Golden Gate Bridge:low at day break,weaving in and out of the top in the afternoon,and sliding back down to cover the city just after dusk.Or