I guess it takes about two years in a new city until you have a weekend where all the nights are booked solid with fabulous dinner parties. I'm just calculating that figure based on last weekend, which required attendance at not just two dinner parties, but two dinner parties where Trader Joe's vegetarian gyoza were served as appetizers. And that's not all. My and my lovely overly ribbed wife went along the Matt Davies trail, which is part of the National Parks Coastline that cuts along a section of Stinson Beach in a most dramatic fashion.

Normally, I have a hard time getting her out on such excursions, but she was lured by what turned out to be a false promise of snacks. However, she still seemed to enjoy herself, walking among the giant trees with the mighty pacific in the distance. Then to be sporting, I bought her a chocolate covered pretzel and an Orangina.

I also spent some time driving around in a Porche Cararra, because of a long series of events which did not directly concern me. But they also resulted in my meeting a drunk old German who showed me a car he said was $1,200,000, which seemed like an expensive price tag for a car. He was drinking awful German shnapps. Even though I didn't have anything to drink, I found it exceedingly difficult to drive, as I was on the twisty road known as Skyline Drive, which goes on a kind of ridge above Pacifica. And it was night time, and I haven't driven a car like that in a while.

Anyway, after all that, I was pretty tuckered out, plus my honey had to get up at 4 in the morning Monday, so that had me even more tuckered out. However, I did feel a second wind when a certain somebody who I haven't spoken to in a while called to tell me about surgery on his testicles. It is a secret that he had it done, and I promised him I wouldn't talk about all the embarassing details here that he told me, about how he was shaved and swollen and so forth, but let's just say nothing cheers you up like hearing about someone else's extensive testicle surgery when you've got a few problems of your own you'd rather not think about.