The new house is called The Cornell Club, which is a nod to the Girth's parents and their young days as Berkeley grad students. It's also a touch classier than "Man House." I like it. We'll have a warming party in about a month, which I'll send out invites to in a while. Hopefully some girls will show up.

I think there's a lot of potential here. I'll have a more or less set-up room in a bit, and it's going to be open to our friends and extended family any time I'm back in Humboldt or otherwise on the road. It's a little like my coworkers' love of CouchSurfing but more private.

We've got big maps, a garden started in the back yard and a huge amount of meat in the freezer. Nick and Luke kee[ a chess game in progress, and we sample Mao's little red book for inspiration from time to time. This week we discovered the threat to the revolution posed by "the petit-bourgeois and their individualistic aversion to discipline." That's a keeper.

Last night we had Interesting Times running a raucus poker game with four public defenders, another law school buddy, and myself. I managed to hold my own against men on leave from their wives -- determined to make the most of it, they were -- and managed to break even in spite of the massive quantities of high-quality scotch on the scene. This is better than I usually do at cards, and it was a nice unique way to spend an evening.

Things are shaping up. I remain, as ever, vaguely unsatisfied, ritually fatigues, and plagued with concerns that I am becoming -- to quote another tired old hack -- "all dead inside." Beautiful weather helps. I think getting back into a physical exercise routine will also. My foot is still a little messed up, but it's to the point where I just need to do my thing and be sore. I can feel my body jiggle when I go down stairs; my whole system is over-ripe, ready for some strong and steady running.