Life is weird. One day, you are bored and nothing is happening and you feel totally removed from everything, and then one day everything happens at once and angst spews, and then, one day, you have so much fun that it makes up for the boring or uncomfortable days, and then that day stretches into several days. It’s at these times that life is really and truly a fantastic experience.

Over the weekend, my friends Sue and David came to visit from San Jose. For just over twenty-four hours we did the tourist thing in Ocean Beach. It’s a wonderful thing, to show friends around a place that you love, especially when they seem to take to it right away. We ate and drank and walked all over this fabulous little town, taking in the sunset, and the Sea World fireworks; walking along the longest pier on the West Coast, and eating a fine spread of sandwiches, fried foods, fish tacos, and pizza. Not to mention the libations.

Ocean Beach – food and drink wise – is pretty awesome considering it’s small size. Sunday, as we ate a sumptuous meal of fried shellfish chased with white wine, bloody marys and “Arnold Palmers” at the South Beach Bar & Grill. I ran into one of the local bar managers here. I was like, what up? And she said, well, I’m hungover. And I said, there is no place better to fix that than South Beach. Good Fried Food, she said. Alcohol, I said. And that pretty much sums it up. That and the blue skies and Harley exhaust. We live in a beautiful world.

Last night I went to see Rush at Coors Ampitheatre with Brian and his friends Joe and Michael. There is something really special about an arena show and somehow, Coors is the one of the best places to see one. All the diehard fans seem to come out, and the dusty parking lot is filled with vehicles from all over Southern Cali and also, Mexico. People tailgate and throw frisbees in what only can be described as perfect summer light. Once again, a beautiful world.

Once in, I ran back and forth between my own seat with Brian and Joe and Michael to box seats held by Mark, Andy, and a bunch of other dudes. When I first got there one of them asked me if I was going to blog about the show! Well, I must say, I feel very badly for neglecting the blog when out of nowhere here comes a reader. Oh well.

Then Rush comes on and what can I say? It was an incredible show, effortlessly performed. Those dudes play for three hours and they don’t appear to ever break a sweat! And they don’t overcharge for tickets, yet put on this stellar, long, show with the audience in mind. I can’t think of any other band that does it quite like that.

Geddy Lee sings “One likes to believe in the freedom of music” and I do. I believe not only in the freedom, but also in the way music makes me feel. Music makes me feel like I am in love every single day. Music slays me, uplifts me, and sometimes rapes me. Last night, with several thousand other people, music – Rush’s music – made me happy, beyond young, in awe. We live in a beautiful world.

On the way home, we stopped at a 24 hour taco shop on Midway called Santana’s. I have passed by a million times but have never been there. It was a Monday at midnight and I was eating a chicken achiote taco, totally in love with life. Now it is Tuesday and I am still in love. Sometimes, life slaps you to remind you what it is you have been missing, or taking for granted.

I’m a masochist I guess. Bring it on.

Top Chef last night was a “reunion” episode of sorts – looks like they are going to drag out this season as long as they can. Perhaps until Project Runway starts in the fall?

Anyhoo it was pretty boring. Even Dave was boring. Harold looked like he didn’t want to be there, but Lee Anne looked fantastic. She seems to be taking some sort of Glow Pill.

What the hell was Ilan wearing? He was wearing an ill-fitting tuxedo, but to add insult to injury he wore no socks and had his pant legs pulled up. He looked like a scared rabbit when they asked him about his future plans.

And Harold just got a one-star review from Frank Bruni at the New York Times. It’s a strange review, because Bruni seemed to like much of what he ate at Perilla, but gave it one star. Weird.

Since I’m one of the only Stephen Asprinio lovers in the universe, I was thrilled to see he is working on opening a wine bar in Costa Mesa. Cool! Costa Mesa is a lot closer than New York! And it’s possible that I will know people that will end up working there…

There are many things I want to do. Having many glasses of wine with Stephen Asprinio is right up there at the top. Flying to New York City to eat at Perilla is, too.

I woke up today to blue skies. It’s been a foggy summer, so far, but after last summer, where we were all standing in front of fans just trying to cope, I have been enjoying this years mild temperatures and bleak skies. In fact, I love them.

This, coming from someone who grew up in fog, and hated fog, for most of her life. Now I love the fog! Love it!

It hasn’t been the easiest month, and for some reason, July is never that easy for me. It’s like my Full Moon Month. No way to really figure this stuff out, so instead, I immerse myself in music.

I can’t stop listening to these guys. Norfolk and Western. The sick thing is, I might have seen these guys open up for Sparklehorse a few months ago, but I didn’t show up in time. Now, I am truly bummed.

Not bummed about this though: this weekend my friends Sue and David are coming to San Diego. I met Sue because she bought my book, then read this blog, then wrote to me. And since then, we have become good friends, and I adore them. So if there is one truly great thing that happened because I wrote a food guidebook, that thing would be my friendship with Sue and David.

And since I was discussing Sparklehorse, at least in passing, these are the lyrics that have been slaying me these days:

and i did swallow stained glass tears
absorbed by the sun for many light years
and the fire flies in her hair
my red concertinas coming down the stairs
and the hurricane of her eyes
wailed away the knives
the knives of summertime, summertime
the knives of summertime, summertime
the knives of summertime

I don’t know what it means, but I love it.

Sometimes when my neighbors get a little loud I blast this song.

Unfortunately I don’t think they really get it.

I am seriously lagging on the blog thang. Time seems short – but it’s not. Summer, I guess.

Renee and Eddie built their beach island on the 4th. They got there at 5:00 AM and worked for five hours while a bunch of cops watched. Then, at 10:00 when they were done, the cops came over and told them to level it!

Kind of sucked, after all that work. Thankfully they did not let this ruin their day. They piled all the ice (which was suppose to go in a moat) in a pile and stuck a palm tree into it. This palm tree made it very easy to find them on a very packed beach.

The rest of that day involved a great deal of fantastic wine and delicious food, and I have earned the uneasy reputation of she who likes to lay on the floor and listen to live Wilco really loud.

Yesterday, Margaret invited me to go to the Padres game with her. We started at Cafe Chloe, a little French bistro a few blocks from the park. It was my first time to this popular place and I totally fell in love with it. We ate a prawn brochette that had a garlicky lemon sauce, a little mushroom tart and cheese tart, and finally the charcuterie plate, which was a little dish of pork rillettes. It was all amazing and now I am more ready than ever for France in September. Pork rillettes is a sort of shredded pork thing all mixed up with fat and you spread it on bread… I know that does not sound so great but let me tell you, it was fantastic.

On to the ballpark. I am always a bit blown away by Petco Park. It’s a lovely baseball stadium, with the downtown highrises all around, and yesterday the game did not start until 5:00 so the green on the field and the light in the air was especially beautiful. But, there is something that weirds me out about Petco Park. I think it is the mass consumerism that goes on there, and the high prices of everything. In every possible nook and cranny, there is a place to buy something. Guys walk around selling bags of popcorn for SIX DOLLARS. What is that, a six thousand percent markup? I’m no baseball purist, but heck, is it not about the game? It’s not like tickets are cheap, either.

My friend Mark, who is a baseball freak, would have also been very pissed off by the constant comings and goings of spectators while the ball is in motion. I don’t know shit about baseball (besides the basics) but I do know you go to the bathroom between innings.

Everythings been a bit weird lately, so I’m not surprised I was feeling the way I was there. We came back to OB and went to the Vine for some wine and a cheese plate – and everything seemed, for a time, in it’s right place.

Starting today I am going vegan for one week, just to see if I can do it. I’m allowing myself a little bit of cream in my coffee; that’s it. Maybe it will keep me grounded during a week that already looks ugly; maybe, it will send me spinning out of control.

Top Chef is on again Wednesday. My Spoon package should arrive tomorrow. Something to look forward to in bean and rice land.

It’s 8:45 A.M. and very foggy here in Ocean Beach, yet I just checked the OB webcam and the beach is already packed!

If you are reading today, check it out.

Renee and Eddie from The Vine have this plan to build an island with a palm trees and recliners made out of sand on the beach, and they got down there (well, they were supposed to, anyway) at 5:00 A.M. So, that will be the first stop of the day. I have this plan to stay somewhat out of trouble, but the problem is, everytime I have that plan, it seems to go in the opposite direction. Maybe the better idea is to plan to get totally hammered. Then, the opposite thing might happen.

Hopefully I’ll have some photos of “Rosenbaum Island” tomorrow. Happy 4th, everyone.