And a lot of work done today

Well, not all today - but a lot actually. It was a productive day after a non-productive week.

Funny conversation from this evening

Called Uncle Rocco's Pizza in Santa Barbara and sat on hold, decided to stay on hold but walk over there.

When we arrive, the place was not really that busy. At the counter my friend says "We called over to place an order. I was on hold for a long enough to walk here, but then you guys hung up on me."

Unapologetically the counterman replies "Hey, we were busy and some times the phone..." he waved his hand over the phone with disinterest.

I, trying to inject some humor and solicit perhaps a bit of contrition sniped at my friend "So - basically, F you!"

And the counter guy says "Yeah basically. Are you gonna order or not?"

Not.

The moral of the story is - if you are ever in Santa Barbara, you want pizza, and you even the most cursorily consider yourself my friend, DO NOT EAT AT ROCCO'S. Take that chump!

Making a little progress. Floor down, two ceilings up, one room primed and ready to paint. Have two more ceilings to raise, cabinets to install and a lot of painting to do. This quiet rock is heavy as hell, and floating ceilings can s my c! I think my back might be planning to escape. I'm grateful for a couple of days off.

Definetly not Starbucks

Ocean View

Wow, right?

There's something about the ocean that makes me feel like I'm right on the edge of the world. It's incomprehensibly massive to me, giving me the most vague sense of just how big this rock is.

The expanse bows across the horizon just slightly, the meanest fraction of curve that composes the circumference of the planet. Deep blue as far as any eye can see.

It has a way of making me acutely aware of how very, very, very small I am.

WTF?

This chick just picked up my latte from the counter - took a sip or a really deep sniff, I mean deeep and then put it down and walked away.

Sent from my iPhone

And it smells like fart...

How many places have you been that you just didn't want to be? I've been a few recently and the reasons for my discomfort are many and varied.

Today, the place I was that I didn't want to be was just a room in a house. A room, like a lot of other rooms. It was designed as a haven from construction dust and commotion; a place to sit and relax, make plans and stage.

That was all well and good until one of the workers had a burrito for lunch. I doubt that it's a poor reflection on the owners of the little taco stand that made the burrito as much as on the poor operation of the digestive system of the consumer, but what happened in those miles of intestine should be against some law, and might be given the ecological repercussions of the greenhouse gasses on the ozone.

On entering the room, there was a gust or rarefied air, only this air was more rare than most. Over the hours past lunch, this guy steadily, one gust after another, filled that room with some of the most raunchy air I've ever been disadvantaged to inhale. I mean, truly unbreathably trenchant, noxious fumes. So a room, one that I hadn't truly been comfortable in initially, seemed much smaller and much less comfortable and also, it smelled like fart.

Nothing like a little hard work

There is nothing in the whole world like a little hard work to help clear your mind. You start plugging away at your task and before you know it, you're in a zone if not the zone. All of your troubles, worries and concerns fade to gray for a time and if you're lucky - when you emerge weary and sore, perhaps you're also a bit wiser and more certain.
I looked forward to my time here in cali, where fruit actually grows on trees instead of a supermarket stand, as a span of time where I could make some decisions and chart out the changes I've chosen, somewhat haphazardly to enact. The list of things I need to decide is long and the stakes are high. Everything is on the line.
Signs are dire, unemployment is way up, call for things for which I have skills such as cooking and writing are down, but somehow - I'm not yet panicked. I'll take it one day at a time, one step. One roll of fiberglass insulation or one sheet of obscenely heavy drywall. One semi-annoying, semi-sweet customer at a time and pray that when I emerge, everything will be alright.

Heart disease and teens

I just read in "Food Matters" by Mark Bittman of the times that heart
disease is the second leading cause if death of children under 15.

Why are people so rude...

In airports? Hi. Excuse me. I'm sorry I cut u in line and now my little girl is pelting you with ice.

Sent from my iPhone

Writing

I feel a need, a physical need to write sometimes. Not always, though I do try to write often. I feel that I can't always be honest in what I'm writing because of who's going to read it. That's a problem for a writer.
There needs to be some detachment between what I do and who I am, or I have to decide that I don't care how people feel about what I write. There's freedom in the latter, but I don't want to alienate the people that I know - the people I love.
The conventional admonition is to write what what you know, but what if what you know, or who you know is so close that they might be hurt in some way if you write about them? Do you just ignore it? Just say forget them and move on with the piece?
It's a thin line to be walked and I don't know how to proceed. As I embark on this adventure, I hope to get a handle on that question and others. So many others.