An Entry From Neither Spain or a Plane

B snagged me from San Francisco International at quarter to ten last night, gave me a kiss and a hug and some sleep-making-drugs and for many, many of the hours that came next I was in bed and down for the count.

I woke up around eight o'clock this morning, laced up my running kicks, jogged a quick three point five through Golden Gate Park with Gay Running Club (it was Dan and Steve's first official GRC experience), consumed brunch at Squat in the Castro and then went home for even más sleep.

This afternoon I paid bills, got through a couple hundred work emails, did three loads of laundry and had our house speakers fixed, then I popped a pizza into the oven and B and I cuddled up for last week's Will & Grace.

Even though Spain was crazy-go-perfect, I think being home ain't so bad.