I’m in the bowels of yearbook hell. The 90 page book is due tomorrow.
It’s also my 17th anniversary and my sisters birthday (yes I actually chose to get married on my sisters birthday, I have a thing about 13. So here I am going through all 90 pages with a fine toothed comb. The editor on this project is me. I realize there is a teacher with no images from her class, let the late night panic emails begin. Why why why…. I ask myself. Oh yeah, that’s right I’m a driven-by-deadlines kinda girl. had I known this would be a full time job I would have certainly refused. Finny thing about volunteering for these types of positions, they never tell you the real story. If the program I have to use wasn’t so antiquated (Windows XP moves faster) I probably wouldn’t have loathed the process. I like scrapbooking, it was my jam back in the late 90’s, heck I was even a Creative Memories consultant, I have the backstock to prove it. And just like every project before and after it, I quit when it became all business and zero creativity. That’s exactly what this project has turned into one big JOY SUCK.
I resort to poor food choices. I can cleanse tomorrow at the spa.
Spa plans (celebrating my sisters birthday and Mother’s Day) are somewhat derailed. Its’ mighty hot and dry in Southern California and the pyro freaks have come out in force. We didn’t get more than 20 miles down the freeway and we hit fire #1. Truck at the boarder check completely engulfed, its now jumped all 8 lanes to the ocean side. We get through before total closure.
We keep driving and my sister says “hey look at that smoke that just started down there I think that’s where we are going?” No way, that couldn’t be. I told her it looked like another car fire with it s thin white chimney.
I was wrong. As we got closer we could see it was EXACTLY where we were going. My sister who is absolutely drawn and repelled at the same time to fire (we’ve seen our share of boat engines and car seats catch on fire) makes me drive passed the spa to get a better look. It’s bad.
We check in to La Costa and immediately are whisked away to our treatment rooms. The staff seem on edge, they are all gathering in corners looking at their phones. “Is everything OK?” I ask my masseuse. She says she’s not sure but as of right now the spa is still open but we should probably get started because mandatory evacuations might begin. So that’s relaxing news. I hop onto the table and my scrub down begins. I tell the woman not to rub or pull anywhere near my right ear. I told her its a long story and its just better that I don’t have any massage for that matter too. So she proceeds to focus on one tiny area on the top of my head the size of about a quarter. Minutes go by and I’m thinking is she going to venture out at all or am I going to have a bald spot. I feel a slight shooting pain in my ear. Oh God, not that, not today. I sit up clutching my towel and tell her I have to stop. She seems confused. I bolt.
By the time we get back outside the smoke has doubled and people seem a bit more frantic. We decided to try to get some lunch and seat ourselves. There’s a bridal shower that seems to be out of champagne and irriatated. There’s one server and she appears to be crying while serving. Oh this isn’t good. She greets us and we ask “hey are YOU OK?” She tells us that her husband just called her to tell her that their apartment was close to catching fire and that her daughter’s school was just evacuated. We ask her why she isn’t already gone and she said there was no one to come cover her shift because all the roads AND RESORT have been shut down.
We still had lunch and it had to be almost 100 degrees and windy. It was hard to sit there and see the black smoke knowing that’s usually the sign of a new structure catching fire. Just like earthquakes we learn to deal with these things. Our server was so nice, she felt bad for the sub par experience and brought us platefuls of dessert on the house. I saw my sister slip her a large bill and my mom tuck a Macy’s gift card in the folio. She had a hard time accepting these but we told her don’t worry just pay it forward.
We find out the spa is shutting down for a private event and we have to leave by 4pm. Wow wish someone from the resort would have told us during the appointment scheduling, we had actually planned to stay there until well after sunset. Heck I had a hallpass for the ENTIRE day. I tried to linger in the gift shop and sooth myself with overpriced facial creams but eventually we were told that the resort was closing. On the way home you could see MORE fires, they were popping up everywhere it was kind apocalyptic.
I loved this instagram:
The rest of the week pales in comparison to the excitement of Tuesday. Although I will say I woke up Wednesday with a tender spot on top of my head (I had a long conversation with the spa manger about that).
Its still almost triple digits so we are doing a lot of swimming. Super A now has green hair.
Like me green tomatoes.
I found photo goodies at Michaels. I’m gonna make some bags for my trip to Colorado (see Week 39.)
A favorite Mexican place Taco Mesa they have THE BEST walls and serve a drink to match those walls called The Vampire (freshly juiced beets, carrots and apples.)
we do s’mores for no reason.
We celebrate 17 years at a new restaurant down the street Juliette Kitchen + Bar. Its so good, Its starts with a cheese board, Cow Girl Creamery, wild boar salame and spiced marcona almonds. Everything was delicious, I had the Kale Salad (loaded with parmesean mmmmmn) and the farro risotto [mixed local squash, dried tomatoes, mustard greens, pecorino, lemon thyme, olive oil, balsamic reduction.] The mister had the most generously portioned striped bass [baby turnip, shimeji mushroom, sea beans, grilled spring onion, citrus herb glaze.] I haven’t eaten this well since my NYC trip.
I then try to recreate the toasted bread a few days later. Its not as good.
Hipstamatic app, Loftus lens/DC film