S.F. is a breeding ground for cults and esoteric art. It was the most unorthodox Easter I've ever experienced. On Thursday, I attended a drunken sushi dinner. On Good Friday, I went to a Playboy Mansion themed party -- the girls were bunnies; the men dressed as Heffner.

On Easter, the Castro and the Mission thought it was Halloween. I saw giant pink bunnies stumbling down the street, hordes of evil looking transexual-like nuns belonging to the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence, and a man in a flying blue monkey costume (remember the Wizard of Oz?). All this just a half mile away from one of the oldest Franciscan Missions! Mission Dolores. Mission of Pains.



My first day at work was a relief. I really miss nursing. After seven months of being unemployed and living out of a bag, I'm ready for stability. A steady income and a soft, scabie free bed are just around the corner!

All the resident physicians are women and they're mostly Asian. One is Indian -- and very attractive. One is white and she's a lesbian. She's smart and went into a soliloquy today about her recent marriage and the legal ramifications of her and her partner having a gayby (er, baby).

I'm tired, humbled, and excited for life.

I fantasize about having a puppy and cute secret admirer.