One-Way Ticket to Tucson

Yes, dear friends, it's true: I'm leaving San Francisco and I'm not flying back.

Kinda.

Two days ago I bought a one-way ticket to Tucson.

The reasons for doing this have nothing to do with the cold summers here, nor with jujjy Marin types, nor with anything other than LOML not being in San Francisco.

I just can't stand the permanent situation of him languishing down there while I flourish here. It simply needs to change.

So I'm going to haul his ass up here. "Haul", and other sundry verbs. We'll be driving back up here just in time for Pride, hopefully in time for Pink Saturday. I'm not entirely sure about this, but I believe the LOML thinks the parade and the 1,000,000+ turn-out are to herald his arrival.

So next Thursday, as a man in a long-distance relationship longing for convergence, I leave San Francisco behind with no fanfare and a cheap airline ticket.

But I shall return. As a man in love, with the man I love, shacked up and living in sin and awaiting the return of sam[e]-sex marriages.

...

By the way, what are y'all doing for the 4th of July? Big party at our house! Email me for details.