There really isn't any specific reason for me to start blogging again, other than that I am at this moment at the San Francisco Public Library where any attempt at getting work done is being thwarted by the East European grandmother chatting up the empty space behind my left shoulder in a language I do not understand.
I find it oddly comforting that approximately 75% of the library population is comprised of the homeless or other disadvantaged groups. Such as the unfortunate man with an epileptic phone that hasn't stopped beeping in the past 30 minutes. He shows admirable restraint in not answering it. I do the same in not clubbing him over the head.
I wonder what they do to keep the homeless away at NYPL's main branch. There's something wonderfully San Francisco hippie free love come together-y about eating lunch at a restaurant called Ananda Fuara (fountain of delight, in Bengali) where an East-Asian origin young woman wears a sari and serves you delicious vegetarian meatloaf against blue walls adorned with photographs of some Indian guru named Sri Chinmoy. And then you commune with the homeless and white women wearing rudrakhshas in a rather nice public library. I'm not trying to propagate stereotypes, all this is just happening to/around me.
I wonder if there are pot brownies to be had in the vicinity.