So, my life is pretty much complete. I say that with no sarcasm whatsoever. You know how I can really wax sentimental sometimes. I'm still in San Francisco, now on Valentine's Day, awaiting Ashley's return this evening; and I fly back to Cambridge in five days. In the last three weeks I've been to the the ballet, the symphony, Kodo drumming, art openings, the museum. I've seen Gina, Stefanie, Indra, both Angelas, my brother David, and my dominatrix friend. I've shopped, clubb

I'm seeing a pattern here in my blog (and I wrote this even before re-reading the last sentence from my last one on the same subject): repeated instances where I'm forced to acknowledge how I'm constantly taking things for granted. And for this, I have a film analogy: "Labyrinth" with David Bowie and Jennifer Connelly. "You can't take anything for granted 'round 'ere," says the cute little Cockney-accented worm in a knit cap, to Ms. Connelly. And she constantly complains to J