Where the f*ck am I? was the first thought that entered my mind as I awoke this morning. What's this, I was sleeping in a bed? Ah yes, I am back home. Home sweet home. Or something.

I still feel disoriented and out of place. Strange, I suppose, considering I had only been out of town for three weeks. Those three weeks lasted both an eternity and a brief moment. Overall, I feel like I've reached out my hand towards something and barely touched the surface before it was yanked away abruptly. This is good, though, feeling at a loss. Last night as I fall asleep I couldn't even feel this loss. A deep sadness took over me without any other feeling accompanying it - which is unusual.

I'm unsure whether it was the whole being on the east coast (in Boston) for the first time thing and actually seeing what trees and weather is like, or that I have left behind an unfortunately very cool person in my life sort of thing. Either way, as I flew into San Diego I was in total amazement. What the hell, I live in the desert! What's that brown crap along the highway? Oh, it's a tree!

The good side of all this is that I missed my computer and my stereo.