Conflict of interest

One accidental click over to this and suddenly I am tearfully wishing I were sitting amidst the golden pale blues of the Mariinsky Theater. I want to see the intimate royal stage, I want to feel the grandeur of Prokofiev's sounds, I want to be moved by the dancers' rhythmic fluidity.

But I guess this hand-me-down futon and strewn-about statistics assignments will have to do, won't they?

SF

Well, here we are. Here we landed not long ago, in this foggy land surrounding the Bay. Day after day, I discover treasures of this land. The late summer here is gloomy and mysterious, but the people--strangers giving away organic chocolate on the street, commuters packed into every form of moving machinery, observers in zen coffee shops--make up for it with their vibrant spirits. Naturally, this area is soaked with eccentricities.

I am starting another great journey. Somewhere between BART stops, new exciting life is happening to me. It sweeps me off my feet as I walk up and down the hills of the city; it kisses me on the cheek with its salty breeze as I near the roaring sea lions. There is still so much to establish, to work out, and my heart is already trembling from exploration excitement.

Needless to say, this should be a good chapter.