RECOVERING FROM YESTERDAY
Mr. B and I, plus what seemed to be 6 million other Angelenos, travelled down the 405 headed in the direction of Mexico. We left the pack at Pacific Beach, and found the surf camp folks.
Mr. B had his go at the waves, and found it to be a most humbling adventure. When he came in from the surf, I asked him how he was doing:
Me: Wow, great job. How are you doing?
Mr. B: . . . . . (staring at the surf)
Me: You were surfing! Wow. Good job.
Mr. B . . . . . (staring)
Me: Cool dude! Nice job! Look at me . . . how are you?
Mr. B: All done!
Okay.
Mr. B seemed a tad bit freaked out by actually riding the waves on the long board, not to mention having to wear that pesky, wet, ugly life jacket for safety sake. Who needs it? Certainly not Mr. B, but the camp folks said it was necessary.
Mr. B tore off the life vest, and dove under the waves, just as he always does. Like a dolphin.
We stayed awhile, then Mr. B announced that "Home" would be a good idea, so we packed up and headed north. Made it to Newport Beach just in time for 5:00 traffic, so stopped for a bite and The Daily Grill. Mr. B had his usual, fries and iced tea, and I opted for the lovely Caprese salad appetiser. You know, tomatoes and fresh mozarella, basil and olive oil, and of course, the little tomato WORM! Only showed up as I was practically finished with my whole salad. YUCK.
The manager arrived at our table to share the good news that he was comping our bill. Very nice, but I'd rather pay and not eat worms. Whatever. We went back to the Behemoth, and that chatty Mr. B made another prophetic announcement:
"Nancy Dog House"
No questions asked. Contacted Nancy, went directly to Belcourt, stayed almost 2 hours, declined the invite to stay over (I had to get up early and meet nancy x. at 7:30 for our one mile timed run), and finally jammed back up the 405 arriving home at 9:00. Phew.
Mr. B loves Nancy Dog House. He cried until Long Beach, then gave up. We'll go back down after vacation. Until then, a picture will have to suffice.
WHOPPEEEEEE!!
Mr. B and I are off to the beach party! Let's just see how fearless Mr. B can be when he faces down those monster waves. I will try and post a picture when we get home.
SHHHHHH
The house is perfectly quiet. Mr. B and C-note are both still snoozing, and Timmy and Jazz are playing in the back yard. This is a rare occasion, worthy of celebration. I'm going to make some organic coffee (I even have organic half and half), and wallow in the silence.
MMMMMMMMMMM
THE HEART SPEAKS
I need more friends.
More specifically, I need more friends that live in the same town that I do.
Pretty please with sugar on top.
EERIE
When I went out to get the paper this morning, it was not in the driveway as usual, but sitting in the wicker chair on the front porch. Opened and out of the plastic. Business section and sports pages seemingly read by . . . . . someone. . . . who sat on the porch and read my paper . . . while I was still lying in bed . . . . innocent and vulnerable . . . . the beginnings of a horror movie . . . . . . . don't ya think?
It gives me the shivers.
HUM DEE DUM
Well, I did it. It took a short cat nap this afternoon for about a half an hour, and now I'm not sleepy AT ALL.
I can tell that this nap thing needs to be fine-tuned. Obviously there is a talent to timing one's naps so that one feels sleepy when it's time to go to bed.
Practice makes perfect I hope. Bring on the naps!
AHA!
I think I just may have figured out one of the reasons why I feel so worn out. I am sleep deprived.
According to recent reports, Americans are so horribly sleep deprived that we are diminishing our productivity, creativity, and overall health. They recommend taking more naps.
Hmmmmm, I have an idea. Let's declare the month of August "National Napping Month". And the rest of July too, while we're at it. I'm sleepy just thinking about it.
YAWN.
