It's been a long day.
I have nothing to say.
Must I really write every day?
Yes, every day.
What if I'm zapped?
Then you must fake it till you make it.
(These are rudimentary rhymes.)
This week this day was
work work work. But today
Today I sauntered down to Harbor Island. I meet seven of my stepfams on the crisp white boat. I love the wooden sound of the dock below my feet. I love the sound of my loved ones voices. I love the lavender and yellow sunset brushed on the glossy water. I love San Diego.
It's slick and misty and pretty on the bay. The dock docks countless boats. A cat emerges from one. The dark slice of the sail lines cut up the sky. The vibe reminds me of lake country, but decidedly sea-style. Instead of pontoons, there's sail boats. Instead of speedboats, there's yachts.
We rock and talk in the belly of the boat as a few finish swabbing the sea off the deck. Then, it's a late night dinner in Little Italy. The scene is Saturday night bustling with hip and happy people in their cotton summer tanks and shoes.
It's Italian for the occasion and the service blows and quite frankly, so does the food. However, what doesn't suck is the company. K and M and T and I kept our table light and fun and laughing. This table talk wiped away my tired and hungry state of mind. I feel blessed that I have hours like these with people like these.
Driving home through the twinkling canyons, I once again remembered why we moved here--
Um, cause it like totally rocks.
1 comment:
thats too bad the service AND food sucked...just a bad combination...so we still gotta find an italian place i.e. good pizza joint around here
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