It's wonderful to be back. I was grinning like a retard at the zoo this morning to walk down Market Street under the noisy-ass palm trees, passing hundreds of gay boys and their golden retrievers.

I had a spectacular time in New York, the best of 7 years packed into 5 days. I visited ITP, hit my favorite bars, danced at bOb, ate a 4 star dinner at Bouley, got beatle bag 7.0 on Canal street, had two celebrity sightings, helped out (admittedly not much) on some art star stuff at the Madagascar Institute, licked chocolate off myself at the How Far Have You Fallen party and, most importantly, had the stuffed cabbage at the 2nd Ave Deli.

But it's good to be back. New York is exactly the same. Everything was where I left it, except for the Cortland Street subway station. So I realize that everything is going to stay, and that while I ought to make an effort to get back more than once a year, I'm not dying to move back. And that feels good to know a little more deeply than I did last week.