This is a Travesty

It has come to my attention that there is an entire group of people who have missed out on a wonderous creation called gravy fries. I thought it was weird that Justin had a. never tried them and b. never HEARD of them, but when we went to his Grandma Jackie's yesterday for dinner and were amongst six other native San Diegans, I realized it's not just one ignorant man. It's a whole ignorant city! An ignorant state or, worse, coast! How is it that these poor, poor people NEVER HAD GRAVY FRIES? Is it because they don't have diners? And if that's the case, does that mean they've never had country fried steak or malt milkshakes or challah bread french toast? Where does the travesty end?! And when will these people realize that not only do they need to try gravy fries, but they need to demand that Governor Schwartzeneger build diners so that they, too, can have gravy fries at 2am? Bring the gravy fries, A'nold, or it's hasta la vista, bebe.

We Look Cute, but We're Double Trouble

These two adorable creatures--Crew, aka Crewbiedoobies, on the left and Rawley, aka Mr. Pants, on the right--have been creating quite the stir in the Summers household recently. Apparently they like to create mayhem when those annoying humans have left the house (and the bedroom doors ajar). Justin thinks it's because they're so wrestless, others think it's because they aren't getting enough attention. Either way, every morning we leave the boys out on the back patio with the doggie door locked. And every evening when we return home they're waiting anxiously inside the front door. They like to break through the locked doggie door and find something to attack. I think Mr. Pants is the brains behind the mayhem. Look at that face; it says "Look at my face. I DARE you to yell at me." While Crewbie's says "Did you see me jump? Did you see me get the ball? Did you see it? Did you?" That's clearly not the face of a killer. They've eaten the loveseat a couple times. They stole our chicken off the counter one night. And now, they've done this:

That USED to be a bedroom pillow. Made out of cotton. You can sort of see the end of it on the far left. What you can't see is that they somehow managed to leave the pillowcase on while ripping it to shreds. I guess they wanted a challenge. You can also see the blue duct tape on the sofa where they've emptied the stuffing twice now. Justin had to use a rake to clean up the sofa stuffing and I presume he'll be doing the same thing tonight. A rake. In the living room. Should I say rake again to hone in on the point of rediculousness? They're quite incorrigable.

I heard Justin last night when he finally let them back into the house. He said "Daddy doesn't like when you mess up the house. He has to clean it up after you and he doesn't like that. Be good boys." It was super cute, a bit delusional, but cute nonetheless.

Toolan's Visit

Jen came to visit San Diego this past weekend on a girls' trip. It was looking like we weren't going to meet up with all the stuff planned, but finally I got to see her and her sisters Monday night at the PB Shore Club. It was so much fun!

We just spent the night catching up on our lives. I think I haven't seen her in over a year. A lot has happened in that time :) Marriages, boyfriends, new jobs, new schools. Crazy stuff. I think we're becoming (gasp!) adults!

She assured me she'd start reading my blog, so here's a shout out to Toolan, aka Jen Judy! I think I'm going to start vacationing like you...more of an active rest like the good ol' days on the crew team. No more of this lazy crap. It's kayaks and hikes for me on my future vacations! What a way to see a city.

Summertime

And the living's easy. I'm not sure how often I'll be living two blocks from the beach, but while I'm here, I'm loving it. Not in a let's-go-surfing-at-Tormaline way like Annie and Sam. I have more of a passive maybe-I'll-bring-a-book-down-to-the-water sort of way.

Since it's still technically spring, which means May Gray and June Gloom, the "Marine Layer" (aka FOG, to the non San Diego natives) sticks around until noon. It's not all sunny San Diego, people :) Noon used to also mean that magical hour when alcohol miraculously appeared from the heavens (or our coolers), but now that the city has banned alcohol from the beaches there won't be any more of that...or will there? The entire beach used to count down the last ten seconds before noon hit. You could hear the beers pop open all along the Pacific shoreline, but nowadays it'll have to be a more subtle affair. A more cultured affair, some might say, but I'm from Preakness country and we do things the right way: flying cans full of beer, portapotty-top races, and Thai buckets. What more could a girl ask for?

I suspect this summer will be more of a BBQ and poolside sort of life. Either way, it's more sunshine that I ever saw in Pittsburgh so bring it on!

Pre Running Water Scenario

Last night I arrived at Justin's house to find a ticket at his front door stating that the water had been turned off. It also said that if you tried to get water out of the pipes, you could be taken to court. OK, so what that means to me is: a. we have no water, and b. if i even TRY to turn the faucet on, I could go to jail. Needless to say, I didn't touch anything that might produce water...no faucets, no toilets, no dishwasher, nothing.

So how, in fact, do you live without running water, you ask? I recommend you try it for a few hours like I did. It's a lot harder than you might think.

First I had to figure out how to supply drinks for myself and Justin's menagerie of pets. I decided I could just settle with Diet Coke instead of water, but that wouldn't do for the dogs and cat. For them I dropped as many ice cubs as I could fit into their water bowls--big chunks for the boys and little ones for the girl.

Drinking water. Check! All animals accounted for.

Next I had to figure out how the whole bathroom thing would work. I'd managed to hold it during my TV dinner (Jack in the Box has stellar salads, for anyone on the West Coast, by the way), but when Justin's friend Sean came over to play some pool, I'd reached my limit. As Grandma Martin used to say, "my teeth were floating." I decided rather than leave a puddle of yellow in the toilet for Justin's grandma to see the next day, I'd use the natural toilet out back. Unfortunately, grabbing toilet paper was a bit beyond my plan. A little shake (something I learned in Girl Scouts) and I was on my way. Crew, Mr. Pants, and Olivia could use their regular toilets, of course.

Bathroom. Check! All animals accounted for.

Eventually Justin came home from his softball game. Apparently the water issue was a big mix-up with the direct deposit, but it couldn't be dealt with until the next day. We'd just have to continue playing camp until the next morning. So, after a night of Diet Coke and un-brushed teeth, we woke up and drove to my house for showers.

Hot showers. Check!

And that, my friends, is what it's like these days to live a night without running water.