Author's Note: While most of these accounts are drawn from my actual life, this is by no means a work of non-fiction. Fact is intermingled with falsehood, events are taken out of context, embellished, expanded upon or, in numerous cases, created out of whole cloth. I'm not saying my life isn't this pathetic, I'm just saying I made a lot of this stuff up.

C&C left around 2:00 in the afternoon, and I spent the rest of the day cleaning the apartment, remembering yesterday, and bitching (to myself) about how the X didn't work.

Then I took 1.5 hits of LSD. Oh man. This was one of the most amazing drug experiences I've ever had. Truly astounding. Fun, certainly, at times. Lots of fun. But also something else that I wouldn't exactly describe as "fun", but, looking back on it, am now glad I experienced. I'd like to say right up front, though, that 1.5 hits was too much of this acid for me to do. I wanted to make sure I got off and all. I have taken as many as three hits at once (of what I now realize was weak acid). Well, this was strong acid, and 1.5 was just a little more tweaked than you like to see me. But, as I say, looking back, I'm glad I did it.

We dropped and then headed off to Tilden Park, which is in the hills above Berkeley. It's a decent size park with many good views and some good hiking trails, so I figured this would be a nice place to trip. I like to be in nature, usually. More so on mushrooms than acid, but whatever. We decided to hike out as far as we could in the woods so that when it hit, we'd be in the jungle. This was a good and a bad idea. First good, then bad.

So we're hiking along for about 45 minutes, with none of us feeling anything yet. It's a gorgeous day and we're all remarking on how nice the park is, but I'm also a little apprehensive, as I always am under these circumstances. I notice (or I think I do) that Cathy is getting more animated and excited in her speech, so I figure that it's starting to kick in for her, but I'm afraid to ask (I have no idea why). We walked along a trail until we came to Lake Anza, which is a picturesque little mountain lake where people can swim at one end. We are standing probably 300 yards from the lake, trying to decide whether or not to go swimming and, as we're hashing out the pros and cons, I feel a small tingle along my spine. I've felt this sensation before.

Yep, here it comes. Coco is going on about something involving bathing suits, which we don't have, when I become peripherally aware of the fact that the lake is sparkly. I take a closer look at the lake, and it turns out I'm mistaken. It's not a just sparkly, it is really, really, really sparkly. I suppose I was seeing the light glint off the surface of the water, but magnified by Mr. Cid about ten million times. "Do you guys see that?" I ask. "The lake?" Coco says in return. "No, man, the fucking SPARKLES!!! DO YOU SEE THAT!!! THAT IS THE MOST AMAZING SHIT I'VE EVER SEEN MAN!!!"

I have no idea what they said in response. The sparkles were my entire world at this point, beautiful silver and blue and yellow and red and gold flashes of intense brilliance, going off every millisecond, some of them shooting off into the woods leaving slowly fading trails. Coco later told me that neither he nor Cathy were really getting off at this point, but they obviously knew that I was, so we sat on the grass for twenty minutes or so, during which (I am told) I stared into the lake, pupils as big as basketballs, making "oooh" and "ahhhhh" fireworks sounds.

At some point, we got up and walked further along the trail. This change of scene brought me a little closer to reality, though I was still chugging along pretty strong. I remember asking Cathy and Coco if they were high yet and, when I got affirmative responses, feeling this overwhelming sense of happiness -- joy is the only way to describe it, though I know you all will make fun of me for using that word. I was joyous (have at it) because I felt like C&C were coming to join me in my universe, which I imagined to be located alongside the "normal" universe, but still wholly separate and apart from it. I felt like there had been an imbalance between us, but now they were entering the enlightened universe, and we would totally understand each other on an intuitive level. I thought I talked all about this at the time, but neither C nor C could remember me saying anything along these lines. Who knows.

I'm starting to really fly now and I'm slightly worried that I'm losing it, but I fight that notion because I don't want to get any negative thoughts trapped in my head. Big mistake. Never try to control your flow of thoughts when you're tripping on acid. I am now locked in an epic battle with the forces of evil, who are trying to flood my mind with negativity. I have to remain ever vigilant, I believe, lest these negative thoughts take over my mind and destroy me. I have to keep my entire being focused on my inner world. Any distraction from outside will cause me to lose my control over the thought gate, and the evil thoughts will pour in. This was a serious problem. C&C would say things from time to time, but I was able to distort (and thereby render harmless) the sound waves before they reached my ears. (I can do this by concentrating my mental energy, which introduces turbulance that breaks up the sound waves.) Birds, I remember, were a huge problem with their constant shrill cries, the frequency of which made the calls involnerable to my turbulance. I was pretty much freaking out at this point, but I couldn't say anything to Coco or Cathy. I couldn't ask for their help, because then I'd be distracted and, as you know, the evil thoughts would fill my head.

I have no idea how long this struggle lasted. It seemed at the time like hours, but who can say. I tell you, this was the worst however-long-it-was that I have ever experienced on acid. I can not possibly describe how enormous this struggle was, and how alone I was in the battle. I vaguely felt like C&C would help me if I could just reach out to them, but I was so occupied with my guard duties, I could not call out. I was terrified that I'd be lost forever if I made the tiniest of missteps.

Through cunning, I managed to free myself. I concentrated my thought-energy with all my being, with everything I had in me, and was thereby able to create a sentinel of sorts that I could post at the gate, allowing me to leave and rejoin my friends. Phew! I was just starting to get a grip, just getting one little finger-hold back on "reality" when we came upon a sign just off the trail. It was quite a struggle for any of us to make sense of the sign, but eventually we deciphered the message: it was a warning that we were hiking in an area known to be home to mountain lions. Now, I've seen this sign or signs like it a million times. I've gone up into these hills lots and lots and never once really worried about mountain lions, and there's no reason I should have. Yes, there are cougars up in the Berkeley hills, as there are in many places in California. But you never see one. It's extremely rare, and instances in which a cat attacks and injures a human are far rarer still. Sure wish I had remembered that at the time.

Among other helpful suggestions, the sign advises hikers to make some noise as they walk along, so as to scare the cats away. Well, imagine three people who are just extremely, extremely high, walking slowly down a mountain trail, screaming at the tops of their lungs as they walk along. That was us. With the visual distortions acid produces, we were seeing bobcats every few feet. Anything, ANYthing that made any noise at all -- like a bird rummaging through the underbrush or an unseen squirrel -- was a mountain lion. I have no idea how many times we broke out running (screaming all the while), but that number is a big one.

Ever since we saw the sign, we were trying to make our way out of the hills as quickly as possible (the mountain lions and all, you understand). This was my job, of course, because I was the Master of the Hills (as I was dubbed at some point). And that was reasonable because, normally, I know these hills pretty well. But things look a little different on acid and I was...well, I was lost. How could I be lost? C&C were counting on me! At this point, when I was tripping so hard and had been struggling so much, I made a promise to myself (which I remember more lucidly than any other single event during the trip) that I would never, never, never, ever, ever take acid again. (I hereby rescind that promise, by the way.) I was responsible for delivering us safely from the mountain lions, and I was failing miserably, but I couldn't let C&C know I was lost. I tried to maintain a confident exterior (I wish I had video tape of this), but on the inside I was terrified. Probably one thing I'm going to remember for the next time I trip is to never try to keep anything secret from your tripping partners. I won't go into it, but this was another epic battle.

We finally stumbled on the trail down out of the hills, which, as soon as I recognized it as the exit, immediately washed away the bad trip. We were headed down, we had escaped the thousands of bobcats that were just to either side of us on the trail, and everything would soon be wonderful again. And everything *was* wonderful from that point on. Really, really, really, really wonderful. The whole of Berkeley was shimmering in a golden hue, Coco and Cathy were they greatest people ever (though now that I'm no longer high, I'd say, rather, that they are really great people with whom I love to hang out, and for reasons other than drugs (but those too)), California was nirvana, and the world was reborn.

We wandered around Berkeley for a while, during which I had the most intense visuals I've ever had on acid. Usually, I don't get many visual hallucinations. A few trails here and there, objects have a slight glow, maybe some outlines get a bit rubbery, but mostly I don't have too many visuals (auditory hallucinations are a different matter altogether). But this time it was amazing. Colors are streaming down the streets, cars are morphing into all kinds of different shapes, and nothing in the entire world incorporates a straight line. I saw, with my eyes wide open, the Campanile melt to the ground. I've never had such visuals.

We made it back home somehow (it was not easy) and tried to buy beer at the neighborhood Kwick-E-Mart, but none of us could figure out how much money to give the clerk, so we abandoned that idea. We went back to my apartment after that failure, and chilled. We listened to a lot of Dead, some Cowboy Junkies, some Lucinda Williams, and a bunch of other stuff in that vein. Coco and I tried to jam on guitars, but that didn't really work. I know a lot of really hilarious stuff happened, because we were laughing to the point of tears numerous times, but for the life of me I can't remember what we were laughing about. I'm sure it's a "had to be there" kind of thing.

After a while, I started to get a bit more of a handle on things, though I was still pretty high. C&C left at 6:00 to go to the Phil show, and I was very sorry to see them leave, but I was happy they were going off to do what they liked so much. I walked them to the BART station, which was pretty difficult even though I was somewhat more grounded, and then carefully made my way back home again.

I sat around playing music for a while and then decided that I should smoke a joint made from the killer Humboldt weed Coco had brought with him. It took me (I have no idea of time, but let's say) thirty minutes to clean the pot (and it was sin la semilla, mind you), but finally I managed. Whoa! Three or four hits off the pot and I was way back up there again, tripping HARD. It was all good this time, though. Ladies and gentlemen, I cannot describe to you how much fun I had that evening. You should get some LSD and take it (though maybe not 1.5 hits of strong acid), because it is F-U-N (except for the scary parts, which are really scary).

That's about it. I spent pretty much the remainder of the night tripping. C&C returned from the show, we chatted about it and about the events of the day, and then went to bed. I laid on the bed for a few hours before I got to sleep, but eventually I did manage to drift off.

So we sat around smoking weed and doing blow for most of the afternoon. At 6:00, Coco and Cathy left for SF to go to the show. Then I sat around and did nothing. Then they came back from the show and we did some more drugs, then everyone went to sleep.

Much of my time today, of course, was taken up preparing my response to the outrageous and totally unfounded allegations that have been made vis-a-vis my weight-loss record of late. I won't say any more about this, because I'm sure you're all tired of it already. But why do some people have such a hard time admitting that they lost? I'll never understand it.

I totally wasted the rest of the day, starting at about 2:00 pm. Just sitting on the couch, drinking, and playing the same four or five chords over and over again on the guitar.

Today is no exception. I woke up late, watched some golf, went out for a run and then set about drinking beer. Though there's still probably three or four hours left in my day, I'm going to go out on a limb and say not much more will happen today. I'll probably drink a few more beers, and maybe play some guitar, but that's going to be it.

I should mention that I have again taken steps to minimize any weight gain if, in fact, I don't reverse it all together. While, as has happened lately, I'm not tightly controlling my alcohol intake, I am still eating virtually nothing and getting in some solid regular aerobic exercise. I'll bet if you ask ten fitness experts this question: "Do you think that a very low calorie diet coupled with regular vigorous exercise will result in rapid weight loss," at least nine of them would say, "probably". I mean, that's all I've ever heard: the sure-fire method for weight loss is to eat less and get in lots of physical activity. And that's what I've been doing. God knows what's going to happen tomorrow when I jump on the scale first thing in the morning (as my worthy opponent agreed is the proper time to weigh one's self), but I'm hoping for the best. I've been doing the right things, after all, and I do have my fingers crossed. Wish me luck!

Oh, wait, I forgot to mention that once again I ate sensibly, did not drink too much, and got in some solid exercise. In my mind's eye, the pounds are just melting off, thanks to my use of these proven methods for weight reduction.

And that's what I did. I just got home about ten minutes ago. I'm happy to report that I'm getting in pretty good shape. I didn't eat very much today, for example, and I went to the gym. I've really been controlling my diet extraordinarily well, and also, as you know, exercising quite a bit. And I've tempered my intake of alcohol (though not for the last few days), and that *really* cuts down on the calories. You know, between all these factors, I wouldn't be surprised if I've lost a lot of weight in the last few days. Of course, I haven't weighed myself or anything, because I don't want to spoil the surprise on Sunday morning (when I weigh myself for the first time since the contest began) but I'll bet I've lost quite a few pounds, considering the legitimate weight loss techniques I've been applying, as described above.

After work, I went to the gym. It's what I do. Then I walked to the Berkeley Bowl, bought a bottle of wine (red), and just missed the bus home, so I walked the rest of the way. It was another nice walk. The sun was setting and the colors were amazing. I swear, I've never seen colors like these on the East Coast, or anywhere else, for that matter. It sounds like bullshit unless you've experienced it, but I'm telling you, the colors are different in California. There's more of a golden/amber hue to the sunlight.

I got home, did some laundry, drank some wine, and variously wasted the evening. Then I went to bed.

To be fair, I did get in a bit late. For one thing, I slept until 9:30, and then with the shower and all, I'd have to catch the 10:00 bus, ETA at office: 10:30. I got out to the bus stop at the usual time, but the bus was a little late this morning. I'd been standing there for about 10 minutes and it still hadn't come. This was annoying because (other than bus fare) I did not have any cash on me, and I wanted to get a double non-fat latte and perhaps a bran muffin when I finally got to work, which would mean that I'd have to go to the business school first when I arrived on campus, because they had the nearest ATM. I was late as it was, so that made the B-school stop all the more vexing, given the late bus.

I'm pretty smart, though, so I came up with the plan of (1) running across the street to the local Kwik-E-Mart (where there's an ATM machine), (2) getting $20 cash, and (3) dashing back before the imminent arrival of the bus. I did check to see if it was coming before I implemented this plan (it was not, and I can see it coming from about a half-mile away), but still I might have thought about this idea a bit longer. For one thing, the ATM machine in the store is slow (it's one of those dial-up ones), which I knew in advance, and also the owner of the store, who was hovering over me like a crow, was being a bit chatty, which how could I have foreseen? So of course the bus came and went while I was getting the $20, and I ended up walking to work. Once I got over the pique of having so predictably missed the bus, the walk was actually quite pleasant. It was a beautiful morning, sunny and about 65 degrees with little wind, so it was warm and everything seemed very peaceful in some way.

So it was a great walk, but I didn't get in to the office until around 11:15. The first thing I had to do was get together an application for a job up at Humboldt State. There is something I can probably qualify for listed on their web site that might pay a living wage, which I discovered immediately upon getting to the office. All that was required was printing a copy of my resume, writing a cover letter, and filling out a brief application form. Piece of cake, but it did take about an hour and a half. (BTW, I made some personal photocopies and sent a personal FedEx, all on UC's dime. Am I getting even, or what?!?!?!)

Then the caterer Susan (married) arrived to tell me about how, when they went out drinking together on Saturday, some guy she has the hots for (not her husband) put the moves on her (this is actually a long story, so don't be too judgmental before you get all the facts). Though her tale was mildly interesting, at the time I regretted the thirty minutes I lost while Susan was filling me in on all the details.

And then almost immediately afterward, Karen dropped by and we chatted about various things in our lives for another half an hour. I did not regret losing that time, though, because I was very happy to talk to Karen. She also had interesting things to say, which didn't hurt, but it was a nice chat, just like we used to have all the time. It galls me the way she has pursued her own agenda in all of this, but whatever. I do like Karen a lot and miss her as a friend.

At this point, I was getting pretty hungry, so I swung by the cafe to get some lunch (sandwich and chips). Since it was such a nice day, I ate lunch out on the patio, which I almost never do. This killed some time and, when I got back to my office, Samantha immediately appeared. We chatted for quite a while, as it turns out and -- before I knew it -- it was 3:45, which, I don't need to tell you, is prime gym-going time. (This is when I checked my voice mail, BTW.) If you've been following along, you know that I haven't been to the gym yet this week, and so what choice did I have? None. I went to the gym.

My workout was okay, but not as good as I was expecting, considering that I've had a full three days rest. But whatever I did my workout and then walked most of the way home. Along the way, I did stop by the Berkeley Bowl to pick up a bottle of wine. I'm about three quarters done with it by now, and I'm thinking it would just be pointless to save the last 25%. So I'll probably kill the bottle. I hope I don't feel it too much tomorrow, because, despite today's glorious achievement, I really think I should get at least some work done tomorrow.

I'm not worried about the calories, though, at least there's that. I'm well into the third month of my current workout extravaganza, and there's no sign of a let-up yet. In three, four weeks, I'll be a god. A certain someone is toast, if you know what I'm saying, in a certain weight losing contest.

*And, yes, I realize that, technically, these things actually DO count as work related. Ok? So, fine, I did do some work things, and thus my claim to have done "no 'work' as we commonly understand that term" is not correct. You can call me on it if you'd like (I suppose), but why would you want to be like that?

Got to work at 11:00. Screwed around until 1:15, when Samantha and I went out for lunch. Got back to the office at 3:07. Screwed around until 3:45, when I left for the day. I did not go to the gym choosing, instead, to install Windows XP on my computer because Windows ME (my former operating system) SUCKS. This, surprisingly, went well. I had to mess around for about 15 minutes in order to get the DSL back up, but whatever, it worked.

And now I'm going to watch "Leaving Las Vegas". I've seen it before, of course, but it's so great I figured I'd watch it again (for the fourth time). It's not "easy" to watch, but it's worth the pain.

But then nothing of note happened. I went to the gym, of course, and then started drinking wine (I'm on glass no. 2 right now). I may not stick by my normal three-drinks-a-night rule, but I'm not going crazy or anything.

I have to say that I'm starting to see some results from all this gym-going I've been doing lately. I still have a bit of a gut to work on, but I'm getting really strong and also fit. I did 40 minutes on the StairMaster on Level 10 with no problem tonight. (I really want to take my bike up into the hills this weekend, but it's supposed to be cold and rainy. It has been cold here lately.) If I keep up my current schedule, I should be in great shape within a couple of months. Probably the fittest and strongest I've ever been. I'm sure of one thing that won't happen: I won't drop dead or get hit by a bus or something right after I get to the point where I'm satisfied with my condition.

In Humboldt news, finally a job showed up on the Humboldt State web site that looks like it might work. The pay is a bit low, but still higher than the other jobs I've seen advertised since I've been looking. It may be enough for me to live on. Anyway, I'll apply for it.

Nothing much happened today. I screwed around at work for about five hours, then went to the gym. I had a rocking workout, including a full 30 minutes at Level 10 on the StairMaster (Interval setting). Then I went home, had three glasses of red wine, screwed around some more, and went to sleep.

I had a meeting with my hated enemy to discuss "my plans". My plan, I explained, is to "get the fuck out of [there] as soon as possible". I further explained that I want to have a job lined up before I quit, so I can't be precise about my end date, and that I wasn't too concerned about making things convenient for them, but that I would make every effort to wrap things up as expeditiously as possible. He wanted me to draft a memo about how I do my job, so "the transition can be as smooth as possible". I tried to get through to him that I was enormously bitter about how everything had turned out, and that I was disinclined to try to make things easy for everyone after I was gone. Accordingly, I said, I didn't think I'd be drafting that memo after all. This led to about a half an hour of some bullshit that I couldn't be bothered to listen to.

I was kind of steamed after our meeting, so I figured the best thing to do was to get out of there for the day, which is what I did (at 3:30). Like a good boy, I went to the gym for a hearty workout. After that, I went to Berkeley Bowl for some fruit and wine, and came home. End of story.

Happily, as I'm sure you all know, my plane was *not* hijacked nor, as far as I know, were any others. In fact, both my flights were uneventful and, except for some choppiness, quite pleasant. Especially the leg from Houston to Oakland, because I had a very cute young corporate trainer (Melinda) sitting next to me, with whom I chatted quite extensively. I could tell she wanted me, but as she was only going to be in the Bay Area for a few days, I did not pursue the matter.

I arrived home at about 12:30 pm, which was pretty much right on schedule. I could have gone to work, of course, but fuck that shit. Instead, I got stoned for the first time in more than a week, did laundry and cleaned up my apartment. All in all, it was a very enjoyable afternoon and a nice end to my vacation.

Sponging Tally: Lunch ($27.50), snow globe ($2.99), hotel room ($105.00). Total for week: $482.78.

I only have time for a quick update today, because I'm on my way to La Quinta hotel. I'm staying there tonight because my flight leaves at 7:15 tomorrow morning and if I stayed down here, I'd have get up at 3:00 am in order to make it on time.

Not too much happened today. We drove over to Ana Maria Island, which is another coastal resort city on the Gulf. We had lunch there (bloody mary, stone crab claws, hush puppies), and then drove around for a while checking out the island. Traffic was absurd and Ana Maria looked just like all the other cities around here, so I did not enjoy as much as I might have.

My vacation is pretty much at an end, I guess. Unless I manage to meet some girl in the hotel bar and have sex with her 4.9 times tonight (not out of the question), it looks like I've fallen a bit short on the sex goal. I missed my golf aspiration by one, too, which is annoying. But I can't complain. All in all, it was a good time.

Sponging Tally: Garden entry fee ($10.00), lunch ($18.00). Total so far: $347.29

Before I get started recounting my day, there's something I should get out of the way: I owe the Coen brothers a bit of an apology. I stand by my mini-reviews of "Barton Fink" and "The Big Lebowski," (see 3/8/02), but "O Brother Where Art Thou?" is a terrific movie. Just really, really great. It's very clever, extremely nice to look at, well acted, engaging and thoroughly literate. I encourage all of you to go out right this minute and rent it. It's fabulous. So . . . Joel, Ethan: I am sorry for what I said yesterday.

Ok, I feel better now. I slept in this morning. I tried to get up at eight o'clock to take a run, but I was feeling rather strange; tired, low-energy and vaguely ill. So I shut off the alarm and slept until 10:00, when my mom woke me up.

I had two cups of coffee and then we were off to Selby Gardens, which is a very nice old mansion and grounds in Sarasota. They have the most amazing collection of orchids you can imagine. There were probably over 100 different varieties, most in spectacular bloom. Orchids may be my favorite plants. I'd have to think about it for a while, but they are right near the top. Just for sheer variety, they get high marks, but then you have to also include the many beautiful colors of the delicate, intricate blossoms. The visit to the orchid greenhouse is the highlight of my trip so far. I could have stayed there for hours (except for all the annoying other people who were there). There were many other tropical and sub-tropical plants and trees on the grounds, which were also fascinating, but I liked the orchids the best.

From Selby Gardens we went to Siesta Key, which is a beachy resort place with lots of condos and vacation rentals. There were sections with huge trophy homes with giant pools, tennis courts and the other accoutrements of the idle rich, but there were also more middle-class areas. We went to a place called "Turtles" for lunch, because my dad really likes the place. And it was pretty good. It's located right on the water (Sarasota Bay) and has a Key West theme, which I particularly enjoyed (because I used to live in Key West). I had two margaritas (frozen, with salt) and tasty salmon pasta for lunch, with "turtle pie" for dessert.

We then headed for home, which, as the crow flies, is not that far from Siesta Key, but it took for fucking ever because traffic was horrible and, into the bargain, we kept getting caught at draw bridges. There are tons of draw bridges around here, some of which open on a regular schedule, but many of which open whenever a high-masted boat wants to go through. Because it was a Saturday and a beautiful day, there were many tall-masted boats on the water and we got caught four times.

Finally, we made it home. I watched the Honda Classic (golf tournament) on TV for a while and then went (and I'm embarrassed to say this) to the mall. When I went there to buy my new suitcase earlier in the week, I noticed that they had a good sale on underwear at the J.C. Penney, and I do need some new underwear, so I figured what the hell. I could get some underwear and also check out the local high-school girls. I got eight pairs of underwear (including some sexy Calvin Klein ones with high cut sides), some white undershirts, a bag of white tube socks (six pairs), a new toiletry kit and a new wallet. All of these things were on my list, and all of them were located within a twenty-foot radius of each other. The whole thing didn't take me more than ten minutes, which was excellent. I then ventured out into the mall to espy the aforementioned high-school girls, but there were very few about and the ones that were there were not that good. So I went home, after stopping by the Winn-Dixie (grocery store) to pick up some milk, ice cream, OJ, beer and blank videotapes.

I was feeling a bit better by the time I got home, so I decided to go for a swim to get my workout in. This turned out to be a great idea. It was dusk by the time I got to the pool, which is really a nice time to swim, and also I had the pool to myself. I was pretty glad about this because I'm kind of spastic when I swim and I didn't want anyone to see me. It's also easier to swim laps when no one else is in the pool.

So I swam for about 45 minutes, which was really tough! I can run for miles without getting tired, but I had to rest after every three or so laps in the pool. Part of it is the fact that I'm not a very good swimmer but, because you're using both your arms and your legs, it's a more complete workout than just running or biking or whatever, and therefore it's more difficult. I wish I could easily swim regularly back home. It's better for you than running. I felt good about the workout, particularly because earlier in the day I didn't think I was going to get one in.

I came in and showered and then we watched the movie, which was great (see above). I can't believe tomorrow is my last day here. Where did the week go? I'll certainly miss not working, but I'll also be glad to get back to Oakland. Whenever I leave it, I'm reminded of how much I love California. I'm sorry to say this to the other 49 states, some of which I like very much, but California is so much better than every other state it's not even funny. I won't be happy to go back to work, needless to say. When you have a whole week off, you get a glimpse of how sublime life can be when you don't have your days stolen from you. It's bliss.

Sponging Tally: Golf outing ($78.25), bottle of water ($1.00), dinner ($22.50). Total so far: $319.29

I got up early again today and went to the gym for a workout. Then home for a shower and then out again for a round of golf with my Uncle Paul. Pops didn't play today because his wrist was bothering him (he has arthritis). I played terribly today, shooting a 112. I was hitting the ball like a champ off the tee and doing equally well with my long irons, but I couldn't chip or putt for shit. On probably 15 of the holes, I was right around the green in regulation but then I would duff two or three chips and then three-putt. It was a disaster.

After golf I took another shower and then we all went out to eat. We tried to eat at a place called the "Beach House", which is right on the water, but it was so crowded, we couldn't even find a place to park. So we gave up on that and went to a place called "The Seafood Shack," which was pretty good. I had pompano, which is a local fish and really quite delicious. The dinner was a bit tense for me because my parents were bickering and my Uncle Paul was being very quiet. Oh I wish they would be nicer to each other. Can't we all just get along?

On the way home we picked up a couple of movies. "Chinatown," which was my suggestion and "Oh Brother Where Art Thou," which my mom had heard was good. We watch "Chinatown" tonight, which was, of course, fantastic. That leaves OBWAT for another night, probably tomorrow. I'm not looking forward to it, because I'm sure it's going to suck like most of the Coen Bros. films. How can you make an absolute masterpiece like "Fargo," and also make total dreck like "The Big Labowski," and "Barton Fink"? I'll never understand it. [Ed. note: Go fuck yourself.]

And that's basically it for today. My arms and legs are really sore from sunburn but as soon as the pain goes away, I should have a nice tan (except it will be a golfer tan, so I won't be able to take off my shirt in front of anyone until it fades). Tomorrow we're going to see some purportedly fabulous gardens with, among other things, hundreds of different kinds of orchids. I'm looking forward to that because I love orchids. I'm a little worried that I'm not going to get another round of golf in before I'm scheduled to leave on Monday. I know my dad isn't planning to play any time between now and Monday. I dropped a few hints to my uncle about how I'd like to play another round, but I'm not sure he picked up on it. Given my utter failure in the sex category, it would be nice to be able to complete my golfing goal. We shall see.

Sponging Tally: Golf outing ($28.09). Total so far: $217.54

Basically, I only played golf today. I shot a 92, which is a great score for me. That includes four pars and two birdies (but also a few 8s, 9s, and one 13). Still, it was a good golf day.

I took a long nap in the afternoon and then we had dinner at home. We watched "Ruthless People" on cable.

There are a few other things that happened today, but I'm so GODDAMN FUCKING PISSED AT MSN INTERNET SERVICE that I can't even concentrate on them right now. Never, never, never, ever, ever subscribe to motherfucking sonofabitching MSN. Look at this error message:

"Your 'Inbox' folder was not polled for its unread count. The host 'mail.law.berkeley.edu' could not be found. Please verify that you have entered the server name correctly. Account: 'Work', Server: 'mail.law.berkeley.edu', Protocol: IMAP, Server Response: '', Port: 143, Secure(SSL): No, Error Number: 0x800CCC0D"

Oh, MSN can't find the server? That's funny, because it did not have any trouble finding it on Monday. Tuesday it seemed to find the server okay. Wednesday there was no problem. But today, well, today it can't find the server. This is on top of a bunch of other FUCKING SHIT that has happened, like MSN refusing to use my SMTP server one day, and then shutting down my email service entirely on another day until I downloaded a "security fix". GOD FUCKING DAMN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ALL I WANT TO GODDAMN DO IS CHECK MY MOTHERFUCKING EMAIL, WHICH EVERY GODDAMN ISP ON THE PLANET CAN DO, BUT NOT FUCKING MSN. I hate it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Sponging Tally: Lunch ($37.50), museum admission ($10). Total so far: $189.45

My alarm went off at 7:45 am, starting another early morning. This is getting to be a lifestyle change. I was out of the house by 8:00 and off to the gym, where I had a nice workout except that I got yelled at by some muscle-head because I forgot to take the weight plates off a machine when I was done using it. It was an honest mistake. People do things that annoy the hell out of me all the time, but I never say anything to them. That guy should learn some manners.

I was back at the house in about an hour and a half, took a quick shower and we were off to St. Petersburg, which is about an hour north of here. It was a pleasant enough drive except I'm starting to get a little tired of my parents' constant bickering. I guess this is payback for when I used to fight with my sisters when I was little. Anyway, we got to the very lavish Don Cesar Resort (or the lavish "Don CeSar Resort" as they inexplicably call it) by 11:30, which was a bit too early for lunch. So we wandered around for a while examining the place while we waited for the restaurant to open. The hotel shops were very boring but the hot rich women in thongs out by the pool were more interesting.

Finally the restaurant opened and we went in and had a very nice meal. I had a bloody mary, cesar salad, grilled scallop pasta with tomato pesto sauce, and a brownie topped with ice cream. That's a bigger meal than I usually eat, but I wanted to get the sponging tally up a bit. Everything was delicious. Kathy, our waitron, was very efficient and friendly, but a bit too obsequious for my tastes. I guess she has to be that way because of all the super-rich customers she has to serve. I'm more of an Everyman, but how could she know that? (I was dressed up.)

After lunch it was off to the Salvador Dali museum, which is also located in St. Pete, but a little further north from the Don Cesar. There was a bit of a problem here. My dad had looked at a map before we left and he felt confident that he knew where the museum was, but, as it turned out, he did not. We drove around for thirty minutes within a four-block perimeter looking for the museum, with my father growing more and more irritated and my mom gaving him a hard time for not jotting down the museum's address. It was not pleasant. I saved the day, however, when I got out my cool Sprint PCS phone, logged on to Yahoo!, and ran a search on "Dali Museum St. Pet", which brought up the phone number and address of the place. I called them and the friendly girl who answered stayed on the phone with me giving directions while my dad drove. She guided us right to the museum pretty as you please. I couldn't feel too good about my ingenious (and cool) solution, though, because my parents were still fighting and that cast a pall on things.

The museum was excellent! Dali was really quite a talented artist. Like everyone, I associate him with his surrealist watches, but he did much more. For one thing, he was a master of many styles of painting from surrealism to cubism to impressionism to amazingly detailed photo-realistic works. He also made very excellent bronze casts and other three-dimensional pieces. So that was superb, and also educational. I now have a new appreciation for Dali.

After the museum, we drove up to Tampa to visit the neighborhoods I lived in when I lived in Tampa (1974-1981). This turned out to be an unbelievably evocative experience. I hadn't seen any of these places since I left, and the memories came flooding back, along with interesting phenomenological sensations. I saw places that were at once strange and familiar to me, and I felt, a bit, the same way I felt when I was a kid and these places were my world. There was a mix of feelings, most of which I immediately understood, but there was one feeling I had to think about for a while. As we were driving around in the neighborhood I lived in when I was in high school, I started to get, how to put it?, sexually aroused. This seemed odd to me but then images of high-school girls I had crushes on started to flit through my mind. I was 11 through 18 when I lived here, which, I'm sure I don't need to tell you, are very sexually charged years. You know how, when you first get a new girlfriend, the sex is always really exciting because it's new? Well, these where the years when sex itself was new, and that was really, really exciting. We drove past the orange grove where Cindy Young gave me a blowjob all those years ago, and I practically had to ask for a tissue. Then we passed my old house and I remembered the very first time I ever did it doggy-style (still my favorite position). Thank you Loretta Tomasti. I tried to get my dad to drive past my old high school, which would have been really intense, but it was too far out of our way. I tell you, this was a very, very interesting emotional state I was in, and also very enjoyable. If you get a chance, you should go on your own high-school sex tour. You won't regret it.

To be honest with you, since all that happened, I really haven't been able to think about anything other than those exciting high-school days, so I don't have anything else to report. I'm going to have a beer now and watch Jeopardy with the folks. I'm going to try to get to sleep early again tonight because I'm playing golf at 11:00 and I want to get a run in beforehand. Also, I REALLY need to masturbate.

Sponging Tally: Round of golf ($42.00), dinner at the club ($45.00). Total so far: $141.95

I went to sleep last night at 10:30 pm, so I got up way early today (7:30). I went out for a run, returning 75 minutes later to take a quick shower, only to head right out again.for the golf course! Yes, my first golf outing! My uncle Paul was playing golf at his club, so it was just me and my dad, but that was fine. I played okay today, but not great. I did not have a good day off the tee, which is somewhat surprising because I had been driving pretty well my last few times out. My dreaded slice seems to have returned, and that was causing me great distress. After six bad drives in a row, I finally gave up on the driver and started hitting a 3 iron off the tee, and that helped a lot. There was still the occasional slice, but not nearly so severe as with the driver. My score was 106, which is not really that good but, as I suck at golf, that's okay for me. The best part was that I beat my dad, which usually does not happen. He had a horrible day and shot a 109 (he usually shoots in the low 90s).

I was back home by about 4:30, whereupon I took another shower. I tried to read some before dinner, but I only got about five minutes into my book before I fell asleep on the couch. After a while, we went over to Paul's house for a pre-dinner cocktail, then off to the El Conquistador Country Club for dinner. Omigod. There was one kid in there who was probably four or five years old, then me, then 150 senior citizens. It was a sea of white heads. Unless you've witnessed a scene like this, you can't really imagine it. A room full of people complaining about how cold it has been lately (mid-60s) and wondering when the police are going to do something about those high school kids. But the meal was very nice (NY steak, baked potato, "vegetable medley" (carrots, broccoli, cauliflower) and two glasses of cabernet).

My uncle's ex-girlfriend, Pat, showed up in the dining room and that set off a negative vibe, which I tried to remedy by getting Paul to talk about his recent trip to Cuba, but that was only moderately successful. After lingering at the table for a real long time after everyone was done eating and the check had been taking care of (thank you Paul), we finally left. We went back to Paul's house for an after-dinner drink (Hennessey for me) and interesting conversation, which I enjoyed very much. I wanted some more Hennessey, but my parents, who are not big drinkers, were ready to go so that was that.

Back at home we watched the 1981 Simon & Garfunkle Central Park concert on PBS, which was very, very excellent (except for the fucking pledge drive that kept interrupting the show). I turned in after that, because I want to get up early tomorrow morning and hit the gym before we go to St. Petersburg for lunch and to visit the Dali museum, which I am very much looking forward to.

So, all in all, it has been a great vacation so far, with much still to come. Speaking of coming, I'm starting to get a little worried about my goal of getting laid five times. I only really have five days left, so I'd better get, ahem, on the ball. Not that I'll necessarily need the full five days. I mean, I could have sex three times one day and then two times the next, no problem. But I'm worried because I figure there's got to be at least one day between when I meet the girl and when we have sex. Once again, not necessarily, but probably. I'm going to kick it up a notch, attracting women-wise, over these next few days.

Sponging Tally (new feature!): Gym pass ($30), lunch (~$15), golf spikes ($9.95). Total so far: $54.95

I woke up at 8:45 am, chatted with the folks for a while, and then went with my uncle to his gym (he bought me a week's pass). The gym was quite nice, with all new equipment and no crowds. It was also somewhat funny, because I was by *far* the youngest person there. Everyone else (and I mean everybody, except the totally hot girl at the front desk) was at least 60 and several people were way older than that. So I had a good workout and then ran the 2.5 miles back to my parent's house.

When my uncle drove me to the gym, I paid very close attention to the route, because I knew I'd be running back. What I didn't do, however, was pay very close attention to where my parents actually live. This area where they are is filled with tons of condo complexes, all of which look fairly similar, so it took me probably twenty minutes to find the one my parents live in (Valencia Gardens). The problem then was that every single building in Valencia Gardens looks exactly like every other building. I enquired at the security post if they would tell me what unit the Trasks live in, but the laconic guard would not reveal that information. I might have been a terrorist, after all. Now I didn't know what on earth I was going to do. I thought I was going to have to just ring every doorbell until I found the correct place, but after wandering around for ten minutes or so, I noticed that the carports all had numbers on them. Numbers that, after a little investigation, I determined correspond to the house numbers where the respective car's owners live. This was the breakthrough I needed. Five minutes later I spotted a familiar green Buick with Virginia license plates and I was thereby able to locate my folks' place. Whew.

After a quick shower, we headed out to Amelia's Oyster Bar for lunch. I was psyched for some quality seafood, but this place was not really all that good. First of all, practically everything on the menu was fried, and I wasn't in the mood for that. I settled on grilled tuna, which I do like very much, but they overcooked it, as I knew they would, and so it was dry and rather flavorless. But whatever. I had a bloody mary and dad picked up the tab, so I can't complain too much. Also, I got in what I am currently considering my old people joke. We were talking about their condo and I said, "it reminds me a lot of Del Boca Vista Phase II". This is a very funny reference to the condo that Jerry Seinfeld's old parents live in (also in Florida). My parents, who were devoted followers of "Seinfeld", did not pick up on the reference, instead nodding blankly. I'm still going to try to get another one in, though, because the reference is pretty obscure and also it's not directly a joke about old people. But if I'm not able to do it, I'm going to go with the Boca Vista joke.

Our next stop was J.C. Penney & Co., so I could buy some blue jeans and a new suitcase. The zipper on my old bag broke yesterday just as the Bay Porter arrived, so I had to wrap about a mile of tape around it when I got to the airport. Luckily, Penneys was having a sale on luggage, so I picked up a smart green duffle bag for 50% off ($25)! After that, we stopped at the golf store and then attempted to go to the bank, but my dad made a series of wrong turns (cursing madly each time) and eventually gave up.

When I got home, I spent at least thirty minutes taking the regular spikes out of my golf shoes and putting in soft spikes, which the course we're playing tomorrow requires. That is a pain in the butt, ladies and gentlemen. If you can avoid changing your golf spikes, you're going to want to do that. They are a BITCH to get out, even with the wrench they give you. But eventually I managed.

And that takes us current. We're going to have dinner at the condo tonight and then maybe watch "Saving Private Ryan," an absolutely terrible movie except for the first thirty minutes. [Ed. note: That is absolutely absurd. Now I wish he were dead.]

Anyway, 6:30 finally arrived and my plane got off on time. There were relatively few people on the plane, thankfully, and I had a whole row to myself. The flight was fine. A little choppy at times but really not too bad. I almost threw up when I found out I was landing at George H. Bush Airport. If I had know the Houston airport was named after Fuckhead Sr., I would have seriously given some thought to taking a different flight. The only thing more appalling than GHB Airport is the new name for Washington National, which I've blanked out of my memory. Hitler National I think it's called now.

I waited around for about two hours in Houston and eventually got on the plane for Tampa. We sat at the gate for about thirty minutes because our pilots were not there. They apparently never did find the original pilots because the replacements got on and announced that they didn't "know what happened to those other guys". Comforting. The ride to Tampa was bumpy as hell, especially on the approach. The replacement pilot bounced the plane a couple of times on landing. I met my parents at the baggage claim, just as planned and then, after waiting about thirty minutes for my suitcase to appear, we drove the 1.5 hours south to Bradenton, where my parents live.

Their condo here is really quite nice. It's two bedrooms and two baths, and my room is excellent. I was pretty tired by the time we got home, so nothing much happened for the rest of the evening. My uncle Paul came over for dinner (we had homemade soup with pineapple upside-down cake for dessert), and I turned in at about 10:00.

So we ended at 12:35 (almost *right* on time) and I spent an hour and a half cleaning up, and then I was out of there. I wanted to go to this great Berkeley restaurant for lunch, but it had already closed. A lot of places around here close between lunch and dinner, which always strikes me as a bit pretentious, though I suppose the restaurant saves a lot of money by doing that. So whatever, the great restaurant was closed and I had to go to a pretty nice, but not great, restaurant (Beckett's, for those of you familiar with the place).

I got home from lunch at about 3:00, and since then I've been slowly doing all the work I need to do prior to my trip (taking out the trash, doing the dishes, doing laundry, packing, etc.). I've still got an hour or two left of that stuff, and then I must SLEEP. I can't remember the last time I had this long of a sustained period of pre-7:00 am wake-ups (and some of them are way pre-). I worked at the 1988 Democratic Convention in Atlanta (when we nominated Dukakis!), and that was a week and a half of waking at 5:00 am, so that has this string beat, but I think you *do* have to go all the way back to 1988.

And I've got another early morning tomorrow. The Bay Porter will be here sometime between 3:45 am and 4:15 am to pick me up, hopefully arriving at Oakland Airport in time for a 6:30 flight to Houston (connecting from there to Tampa International). But after tomorrow morning, I have to say, things are looking pretty good. I don't see too many early mornings in Florida. Oh, while we're on the subject, here are my "Vacation Goals":

1. Play golf at least four times;
2. Work out every single day (which will entail finding a gym that sells day passes for the non-cardio days);
3. Eat at no fewer than three nice restaurants without paying a dime (but I aspire to five);
4. In a conversation with any of the following people: my father, my mother, or my uncle, slip in a joke about how old people go to Florida to die, without being busted;
5. Get laid at least five times.

If Pinback would be so kind as to design a simple (but nice-looking) HTML scoreboard for this page, I'll send in daily updates from the road so we can all keep track of exactly where I stand at any given moment.

So that's it. In summary: great conference, I'm psyched about my trip to Fla., and I've got to get up really early in the morning once again.

I've got another early morning to deal with, so I'm going to have to keep this entry short. Just wanted to let you know that everything's going great with the conference, and I'm looking forward to Florida.