  Its still so weird to see all the hits I get on this thing. All these random google searches of everything from naked gardener to darryl issa retreat. What in the summary makes them click on my site?! Whos looking for this kind of information?! Long, long day. Up at six from the couch downstairs.
Yes, somehow in the middle of the night I crept from my room to the downstairs living room with all my bedding and a pillow to sleep somewhere I dont think Ive ever slept before. Not because the dog peed in my bed as usual (I cant believe thats an as usual statement). I really cant remember doing it at all. Just that my back has been one horrendous mess the past couple of days with the stress of travel, school starting, and the added burden of carrying around multiple literature anthologies to and from bookstores and classes. I must have had it on my waterbed last night and opted instead for a firmer (still made of feathers) place to crash out. But not to remember I must have taken a sleeyep, thats what happened.
I took one of my sleeping pills. So I left the house by 7am for an 8:30 class. Stayed on until 11, went to coffee with Andrea, back to school from 1-2:15, then back home to eat (I cant afford even a burrito right now), then hit the traffic mess that is the late day commute out to San Marcos for a 5:30-8:15 class. My classes  challenging and fun. My teachers one Ive had before and adore, another I cant decide on quite yet, and a third (for two classes) is troublingly adorable. Its going to be one hell of a mental workout this term.
Speaking of which, I capped off the day with a little US Open at the YMCA while pumping away on the elliptical. I didnt get home until just before 10pm, and boy is my back upset with me. a dinner of a beer and a tiny sampling of the 1986 Warres porto I bought for my mom on the island. Im sure the dogs would appreciate it if I opened the fridge again tonight. Forever hopeful globs of drool gathering on the tile. And really, I should eat more than a nectarine for dinner.
And a peanut butter sandwich for breakfast/lunch. Nothing compared to the fanciful feast we indulged in at 808, the restaurant in La Jolla. That was Sunday with the family. Starting out the meal as usual with a perusing of the wine list, a decision left to me lately. I chose a St. Suprey cabernet, something dry-ish to let the delicate flavour of the fish come through. Im amazingly talented in every area of fine living, I know.
I couldnt pass up the offering of a Deconstruction Roll for an appetiser. Having recently finished a literary theory course, I couldnt help but imagine Derrida let loose in a kitchen of a trendy restaurant. Well, isnt cuisine art? The langoustine risotto was simple but inspired. The ono was delicate and matched well with the sauce (cant remember what it involved besides a mild coconut curry). A good restaurant.
Maybe not as good as the place next door, Cafapengo, but Ill take either one if I dont have to cover the $200 bill for 4. Thanks again, Dad. Ive got my eye on both for the big 25 birthday dinner next week. Time to shut off this shit receptacle and spend some time planning my trip to the Getty this weekend. For the Flemish Illumination exhibit and the medieval books. Maybe try to work in some thai food and a sloppy diner into the agenda for the day.
She-it. Im a dork. 
