I went out last night with friends and decided to walk the mile home instead of catching a cab at the end of the night. The air was that cool San Francisco summer temperature and there was hardly anybody else around. It struck me that I felt very content, that as much as I may stress about the travel or the work or the future, I was happy to get some quality time with old friends and then walk home through this awesome city where strange and wonderful things happen all the time.
Case in point: on my walk home, I heard the familiar sound of a bicycle coming up behind me. I turned to look, and there was a girl riding atop a clown bicycle. On the next block, she hopped off gracefully, locked it up, and went inside.
Tomorrow's destination: San Diego
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