One is longer, one is shorter.

I didn't realize it until a few months ago, but my right leg is seriously longer than my left. Lila pointed it out to me when she asked why I always stand on one leg.

"You always look like your posing," she said. I never really noticed as posing, I just thought it was cool guy swagger, but I guess it's medical-condition-guy-swagger.

It's really prominent when I'm sitting down on the with a laptop on my legs, there's a huge tilt to the left. It's actually kind of funny on how extreme the slant is.

 

The city, she is my harsh mistress.

My body is wrecked, I feel as I've been switched on some kind of hyper-no-rest mode since mid April. Now, that I'm home, my batteries completely drained. I'm paying. Hard.

With the constant back and forth trips to Los Angeles, various travels to the Valley, excursions to Visalia and one killer journey to San Francisco. I don't think I can handle anything more than waking up and turning up my laptop. My throat itches, my nose is semi-stuffed, I feel as if I'm on the verge of getting sick, and it completely sucks.

I don't have the mental power to actually give a detailed trip report on my S.F. visit, but I will mention some of the highlight;

• Little Star Pizza and all the pizza we ate (Blondies, Zachary's)


• Hitting up the Metreon. 


• Gaying out with Bob and hitting the Cable Cars and Fisherman's Wharf. 


• Having The Fillmore catch on fire and having the Dethklok show cancel (Our whole reason of going.) 


• By way of sheer luck, seeing Doug Benson AND Brian Posehn.  

That's all I have for now, the D.B. and B.P. story is too good not to re-tell so I'll get that up as soon Ias I'm not dying anymore. But, I really do love San Francisco, I didn't think I'd ever fall in love with a city, but I did. I curse my grandfather from moving away from the city when he was young.

I guess that song is true, huh?