Can I tell you how much I'd love to be in San Francisco this weekend. Folsom Street Fair, don't you know. A good weekend to be bad. I think, however, that my turn may be coming.

A few pictures from London are now up for your viewing enjoyment. Please do let me know of any problems, since this is a bunch of new code that I'm playing with.

Jason and I had a shivery moment last night.... I was in Gatwick yesterday reading Newsweek while waiting a flight. They again recounted the tale of Mark Bingham, one of the brave men who, it appears, fought back against the hijackers and crashed Flight 93 rather than allow it to be used to kill even more people.

When RTE in Ireland starting playing his story, I thought he looked familiar. Newsweek included the fact that he was 6 foot 5 and played rugby for a the San Francisco Fog, a gay league in SF.

Then I realized that we knew him. Not well, really, but Jason met him one night about a year ago. I feel sadness and admiration all at once.

It has been a unique experience to live through these moments from outside the country. I was travelling when the attacks occurred. I heard of the events from a fellow at passport control in Dublin. He told the older couple in front of me that the World Trade Center and the Pentagon had been attacked. He said it with such a straight face that I thought he was just jerking our chain: a joke on the stupid Americans.

When I called the manager of our facility in Ireland, he immediately said "have you heard the news?" I told my travelling companion what had happened. When we finally found a TV in a bar, we watched, dumbstruck, as the footage of the planes and the collapse of the buildings was replayed. I was sobbing.

RTE, essentially the Irish BBC, played CNN and hours of their own coverage. I stayed up most of the night Tuesday watching in my hotel room. Seeing the events through the eyes of the Irish has been eye-opening. They are very concerned about the Irish Americans in New York, and there have been many stories about individual folks who are missing.

There were queues of people at the US Embassy to sign books of condolence. The entire country was closed down Friday as part of the National Day of Mourning. Today on the train to Dublin, we stopped for 3 minutes of silence. The most touching moment for me was seeing the video of a brigade of Irish firefighters, presenting a wreath to the American ambassador. Incredible.

So, I'm in London this weekend for a brief holiday and some quality time with dear friend Brian. I'm scheduled to come back on Tuesday.... hopefully the flights are back to a semblance of normal by then. Getting from Tipperary to London today was a mess. Phoenix, of all the places, has had its share of bomb threats, bombs, loonies. Ugh.

I sincerely hope that all is well with you and your family.

In Ireland. In shock. I'm quite uncertain how to feel right now. I certainly don't feel like being here.

We spent today in search of a pool party. It was a doomed effort.

We drove for-fucking-ever to north Phoenix. We arrived with another carload of boys.

In the backyard, there were monkeys.

I'm going to go pack now.

Labor Day weekend. Time to sit on your ass by the pool and/or computer, have a cold beer, and wonder how many more weeks of 100+ temperatures you can stand before you completely lose it.

Most of Phoenix has fled for cooler and hipper environs. We have house guests from LA and SF this weekend. It's shaping up to be a party weekend. I should be thoroughly wrecked by Monday.

Getting excited for Ireland and London.... I have my tickets, finally. Brian thoughtfully emailed directions. I'm sure I'll still get hopelessly lost on the underground, or the tube, or whatever they call it there. Can't wait.

Went on an Amazon binge and snapped up a bunch of Paul Oakenfold CDs last week. They all arrived yesterday, and the house has been a-thumpin' since. Mostly older stuff, imports, but lots of favorite Oakey tracks. Perfect for a Transatlantic jaunt, I suppose.