atsukan

San Francisco has three types of skies.

80% or so of the time, the sky is gray. And not just a little gray, but a vast sea of gray. The Japanese call it the "unkai" or sea of clouds. Actually, that's what they call it when they're looking down on the sea of clouds, where they can't see the ground because they're up so high,...
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I've been tired before. Tired is you don't feel like getting up to change the channel, or to go grab the remote control. Lately, I've been exhausted. Exhausted is like when you've been running and can't catch your breath, but instead of running, you've been talking, and your mind is so overworked that you can't find the next word. Fortunately, tomorrow is a mental health...
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I hate marketing. I hate that people make me want things that I don't need, or dangle things in front of me that I shouldn't have to desire, but must, in the end, covet. Damn you Green Day for bait-and-switching me with the Warfield tix I can't have. Fucking Coldplay redux. And this time I actually like the band. Fuck.

I think I'm even more...
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The best run EVER. Elements include the following:

- A coming storm in SF, clearing the way for puffy clouds, blue skies, and a tasty breeze. Blue skies through green leaves = the closest thing I can see to the hands of God.

- Brand-spankin' new watch with extra special GPS-powered skills. Kinks to be worked out soon, but still powerful stuff.

- Mostly cooperative...
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Running in the sand is deceptively difficult. The sand is nice and soft and easy on the knees, but after a few minutes, it feels like you're running up hill, even if you're not.

Running in the sand is just like dating someone. Check it out:
It's nice and soft and easy on the eyes, but after a few weeks, it feels like you're running...
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Friday night in this city of mine and my chickie and I are heading out of a pastry shop looking for a cab. As luck would have it, about a half block away, I saw one coming and raised my hand. I saw another couple unsuccessfully hail the same cab a half-block up. The cab stopped in front of us, and the passenger got out....
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I Spit on Your Grave is one of Roger Ebert's least favorite films. In fact, he liked it so little that he put his review of it in a book called "I Hated Hated Hated this Movie." I like reading Roger Ebert's reviews, but I don't usually agree with him. Trolling through the Warehouse this Friday night, I saw it was in stocks and I...
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