It’s official — I’ve moved to San Francisco — and weird things are happening already. I went into a high-end cheese shop in Noe Valley and asked the woman behind the counter if she had any good-quality fresh-made ricotta cheese. She said, “Absolutely,” and reached into the fridge. She pulled out a huge tub of ricotta cheese. “You would really like this stuff,” she said, smiling, as she dipped a tasting spoon into the cheese and skimmed off a delicous looking sample. And then, instead of handing it to me — she ate it herself!! “Ahh,” she said. “That was really good. You should try it sometime.” Also, when I was in the Haight, I said hello to someone I recognized. She did not remember me — and, on top of that, I knocked over a container of organic strawberries, which spilled all over the filthy street. Trying to cover my tracks, I stuffed the strawberries back into the plastic box and was putting them back onto the shelf (not very nice, I now realize) when a homeless man came up and screamed at me for putting the strawberries back on the shelf. Oh well. The apartment is really nice, though.