I'm back in Berkeley. Flew in this evening. I had fun in San Diego. Now I'm glad to be home.

Actually, every time I go to San Diego, I say to myself, "It's good to be back home." And whenever I return to Berkeley, I say to myself, "Gee, it's really good to be back home." My concept of home is large. It contains multitudes. Very nearly everywhere I've ever lived for longer than a month at a stretch manages to feel like home, at least once in a while. Except for Orlando, FL, which was too humid, full of bugs, and where I suffered from constant hay fever. Even my immune system knows that Orlando ain't home.

Actually, I haven't been back to New Haven since leaving college, so I can't tell you whether it really feels like home. But I think it would.

I was astonishingly pleased to wander into a gift shop at the San Diego airport today, and spy three copies of Wet, edited by Mary Anne Mohanraj. I think this must be some kind of milestone: I don't think I've ever spotted a friend's book on sale in an airport before. There it was, three copies, right next to a complete set of books by Anne Rice writing as A. N. Roquelaire. Odd. Erotica would not be my first choice of airplane reading.

My choice of airplane reading was The Count of Monte Cristo audiobook on my iPod.

After dumping our luggage at home and grabbing a quick bite to eat, Daniel and I went to see The Matrix Reloaded. One sentence review: as cool, sweet, and tasty as a hot fudge sundae, and with approximately the same intellectual content. I enjoyed it as eye candy, but found it frustrating as science fiction: every time the script started to creep up on an interesting idea, it would suddenly veer off into either pseudo-intellectual gobbledygook or cliche. Or even cliched pseudo-intellectual gobbledygook.

But who knows? My opinion of the orginal Matrix film changes every time I see it. (Odd-numbered viewings, I think it's f***ing cool, even if I do wish that somebody had taken thirty seconds to explain thermodynamics to the Wychowski Brothers. Even-numbered viewings, I think it's the most pretentious piece of pseudo-philosophical drivel I've ever seen. On the other hand, I keep going back and watching it again, which must mean that it has something going for it.)

I would like to say more about the film, but it's late, and I've got to get up early tomorrow and go earn my daily bread. Maybe later.