Ah, blessed miracles- the fog is back.

While the fog and it's inherent cold wetness does grate, after three or four days of incessant 90 degree weather, I have never been so happy to see the fog come rolling over the hills of Twin Peaks. There has been no respite from the heat. Because we here in Northern California believe in the infallibility of the perfectness of the weather, we do not believe in things like Air Conditioning. Which kind of makes sense here in SF because it really doesn't get that hot, but on those days when it gets hot there's no place to go to get away from it. On the East Coast you went to the movies. Or to the mall. Anyplace where it wasn't hot. Here, in San Francisco, there's nowhere to go. It's just hot everywhere.

The worst thing has been my apartment. Like most apartments in the city, especially those that face to the West, it's cool in the mornings and afternoons, but beastly at night. Most of the nights of the week, it's been hotter in my apartment than outside. Which, while a good excuse to get out of the apartment, it makes it darn near impossible to sleep. As a result, some of my inherent crankiness this week (see below postings) are merely the whining of a sleep-deprived, sun-baked wuss who was averaging three to four hours of sleep a night due to the heat.

And so, as the wind starts whipping up and a breeze flows through my apartment and my I find brushing my hair too painful due to yet another bad, bad sun burn, I say thank goodness to the fog.