the air was crisp like sunny late winter days

Good morning from San Francisco, where the cable cars are running about 1/2 a block from my hotel. Though my open window, I can hear the occasional ringing of their bells, which would probably lose its novelty after a week, but for one day is really charming and cool.

Commence pre-coffee rambling:

Yesterday during lunch, we all found out together that James Kim's body had been found in Oregon. I didn't know James well, though we'd met a couple of times at Tech TV, but everyone from InDigital knew him well, and it was just devastating to find out that he had died. It was a very unsettling moment when everyone's phones started ringing at the same time; I've been around that phenomenon once before, and it's never a good thing.

It was difficult to get back to work, but in an example of The Show Must Go On, we all pulled it together and did a fantastic episode. I don't want to give away the details, but I will say two words: Dolby Headphone. Oh my sweet baby Jesus riding a pinstriped pogo stick. I want this in my iPod and my PSP, and I want it now, even before I get my Oompa Loompa and my flying car.

Our chemistry is really coming together, and in this episode I felt like Hahn, Jessica, and I picked up on each other's rhythms better than ever. I can tell that we all trust each other and we're all comfortable with each other; that's going to come across in the show, so we're "on our way," as they say. We have our own permanent set starting next month, too, and I know that's really going to have a positive effect on the three of us.

Today, we're filming one more episode (which will actually air before the episode we shot yesterday) and then I fly back to Los Angeles and real life. If I'm lucky, the TSA goons at SFO will be as totally fucking lame as they were in Burbank, and I'll get another nice long lecture about how I want another 9/11 to happen because I didn't like them taking away my half-empty 3.2 ounce toothpaste from me. Awesome. I love how flying has become an exercise in being treated like a child who can't be trusted with anything . . . except knitting needles, four-inch scissors, and toy robots. Hooray for security theater!

I got a few e-mails and comments from geek girls who were unhappy with my shopping guide from yesterday, because I geared it toward shopping for boys. Here's the thing: I'm a boy, and the vast majority of geeks I know are boys. The vast majority of people I know who have trouble shopping for geeks are non-geek girls. Add all that up and you get yesterday's column. I'm not sorry for writing it the way that I did, but I want to be clear that I didn't intend to marginalize geek girls or be the sexist pig some accused me of being. I also got slammed by the hardcore geeks for writing something that wasn't hardcore enough. I don't really have anything to say about that other than: get over yourselves, guys. That wasn't the point.

So while I managed to lose pretty much the entire audience, at least my editors were happy with it. Hey, you can't win them all, and I'm sure I'll find a whole new bunch of people to offend next week.

Okay, I have to shower and eat breakfast before they take it away at 10, and I have to find a place that will sell me a teeny tiny toothpaste that can't be used as a deadly weapon, which my breath currently is.

Gross.