The weekend started out on a bad note. Thursday night, with nothing planned for the evening, I decided to surrender my brain to alcohol and I consumed what wine I had left in the apartment. Unfortunately, some of that wine was old…and not in a good way. I’m not quite sure how long one of the bottles had been on top of my refrigerator, half-full …but I certainly would have been better off refraining from imbibing it. Needless to say, I quickly checked out of reality that evening and entered an amusing state wherein I text messaged everyone I knew announcing my drunkenness, then quickly was overcome with fatigue.

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I woke up twelve hours later wearing the same clothes I’d worn to work on Thursday, my body twisted in with the sheets and comforter on my bed, a moist pool of drool under my right cheek. Friday at work was painful. I had a headache to rival the worst I’ve ever had, and I was sullen and restless. So I took myself out to dinner, came home and wallowed in regrettable self-pity, and then talked to my Mom for an hour or so, which thoroughly lifted my spirits.

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Saturday morning I woke early to take a walk, then headed West to the Ferry Building for another CUESA activity. I spent four hours taking money and credit card numbers from farmer’s market-goers who wanted to purchase the cookbook we were promoting. I got to chat with the co-founder of Saveur magazine, who was so impressed with my efforts that she thanked me with two cases of organic strawberries; I saw up-close and personal the faces of so many integral and influential people in the Bay Area food scene, and I got a free, signed, cookbook. Afterwards, I drove back to Oakland for the Grand-Lake Farmer’s Market. I purchased asparagus, fuji apples, beets and an Oaklandish t-shirt.

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I spent time with the boy Saturday night. There are times when I'm really happy with this. We fit together so well; he isn’t upset by my constant fidgeting, and I love watching him make faces when he sleeps. He’s warm, and I’m cold; he’s still and I’m always moving; he can fall asleep when a train’s going by and I can’t sleep if a mouse farts…but it works so well. We are open and honest, without being too probing; we give one another space but know that the other person is there when we need them; we both feel good, there are no dependencies and no emotional turmoil … for however long this lasts, I’ll remain happy.

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On Sunday morning, Bacheeso’s was on my mind for breakfast...two Vegan Specials and lots of coffee while the accordion-player entertained. Afterwards we went to the Food Mill on MacArthur in Glenview and filled up on bulk snacks, dried fruits, power bars and special drinks. I dropped him at home and then went to my place to make couscous, salad, garlic asparagus, vegan strawberry scones and vegan strawberry cornmeal muffins. All delicious!

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That night I drove to Dalia's in Belmont for a ladies-only dinner. Dalia, Linda and I sat around Dalia's table in her dining room high in a towering condominium complex which overlooks the Belmont hills. We drank too much Sangria, ate figs stewed in brandy and stuffed with almonds and cheese, nibbled on pita and Linda's delicious homemade (parsley?) hummus and tzatiki and my couscous salad; we talked about men and kids and CUESA and food...and agreed we'd meet again in June in San Francisco at Linda's for mint juleps and Thai food.

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There are times when I'm out here when everything feels so good and everything feels so right. I'm having experiences I feel I'd have nowhere else; I'm interacting with people I'd never interact with unless I were this open to new people...'it was the best of times; it was the worst of times...'