San Francisco is a city with which I have a turbulent history. While within its limits, I’ve broken my foot, killed a relationship, spent a sleepless week in a fleabag residency hotel, watched a visit with an old pal go horribly awry, and had my only episode of genuine Xenophobic paranoia– and these are only the bad memories. The good ones are too numerous and possibly painful but in a different way.
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I’ve come back to Los Angeles, the freak kingdom, and I’m feeling whacked.
I’ve been dealing with some form of vacation– either my own or that of others– since December 1st. That’s a month and a half, with only about 10 days off. I believe that we may safely conclude that this Winter Tour has come to its inevitable end.
I have assorted photos & videos, but otherwise that’s it.
It’s done. Thanks, world!
