made me feel like anything is possible. If people can live in pink stucco cottages and if the golden gate bridge really exists and if I can really run in Chrissy Field and if Alcatraz (sp) sits smack in the middle of the view from my friend’s window, then anything can happen. Including the miracle of someone like me being in California. I ate organic greens in North Beach and pad thai on Russian Hill. I went into City Lights and rode the cable car to the Museum of Modern Art and the Jewish Museum. I refused to go into the sensory deprivation Exploratorium. I drank bowls of cafe au lait at the local French cafe and talked endlessly with one of my best writing friends.