The honeymoon, in one very literal sense, is over, but in another, more metaphorical sense, it just goes on and on.

For my little dessert flower continues to bloom, having gotten her driver's liscence, which is really a critical thing to get living out here. Plus she also is making progress on her job and all kinds of stuff, like she even made salmon for dinner, despite an aversion to touching or smelling it. And no ordinary salmon, but salmon with blood orange zest and sesame seeds. As if that wasn't enough, she kept up with me pretty well riding a bike out to visit Sasalito, which was very nice and quaint, even though it was full of tourists. It was quite a ride, and I will admit my ass hurt pretty severely. Even though she fell over in some gravel, she just popped right back up again. Besides seeing a guy on the side of the road who might have been dead or was just tanning himself by laying face down with no shirt on on the asphalt, everything was quite picturesque out there. The whole town is bordered by a seawall on one side, with some touristy shops along the street. Eventually, not quite in Tiburon, we stopped and had lunch. I had a fish taco, which was my first ever. Probably my last too. Not that it was so bad, but when we started biking up those steep hills into the Marin headlands, I began to fear some fish taco might pop out.

There was some kind of kite championships going on, which featuring one giant kite, about thirty feet long and twenty feet wide, in the shape of a squid. There were a bunch of guys with silk tour jackets with kite championship written on the back, flying kites.

As if that weren't enough, there was a big footrace going on, called Bay to Breakers. It's like a half marathon, maybe less, but it attracts a lot of costumed runners, nude runners, runners dressed as Elvis, or in fig leaves, the usual.

At night, we watched Michael Apted's forgotten 1997 documentary Insprirations. It follows the creative process of a bunch of artists and musicians, plus an architect, who seemed to think he was an artist. Pretty bad movie, but it was sort of interesting to learn that David Bowie was such a loser, that he wrote his lyrics using a software package that scrambled words. He would type in newspaper headlines and then scramble them and write songs that way. I have also heard he has a billion dollars, so I guess he's a pretty good businessman.

The weather has been really sunny and hot, which I was told today will end next month, when summer comes and it's going to get cold and foggy. I can't say I mind a little fog.

Last night, again no sleep. Someone knocked over a parking sign, and it was in the street, and every time a car went over it, it made a noise like a cymbal crash from an orchestra. So that went on all night. Plus there were a lot of motorcycles revving. I don't know who these people are or why they rev their bikes all night but I would like to explain to them that I sleep, traditionally, in the night time, and I would appreciate it if they would cease their bike revving activities.