i love how all my entries will now be about the commuter train or hospital happenings. why? because that is my whole life. what happened to that party girl? not even party girl. i can't think of a day in san francisco that wasn't like eight days in one. i'm moving back to san francisco after new york. after china.

dr. patrick ordered a CAT scan for my father because his lungs are badly congested. my father is terrified. which makes his breathing even shorter. it's awful to be with him. in and out of dillusion and panic, he's not the best company. i pulled patrick aside to get a private update. and to test the waters of love/lust. he had smiled earlier when he saw me. but that's not saying a lot. when we talked, we stood very close, face to face and he looked me directly in the eyes. i like that. but that's all i get. i'm just a stop on his rounds. i think it's a florence nightingale effect.

except i'm not a patient.
and he's not a nurse.

< yeah >