I am very much not on fire and back in Las Vegas.

I’m still in San Diego. The 15 is open now. I think I’m going back to Vegas tomorrow. I miss my husband.

For those of you on the outside of SD, it’s a big place, not everything is burning. My sister called Andy today to check on my status. My phone is not charged because I only brought the car charger and haven’t been driving, so it’s out of battery. She thought I was in the evacuation zone. I in fact was not. I was eating sushi and drinking mojitos.

I was going to write a lengthy dissertation on disasters and how this one is good (in as much as a disaster can be) because there was/is minimal loss of life and injury. People are pulling together and I think feeling and knowing what the important things in life really are. Although, the lengthy part is going to be cut short because I’m tired, mojitoed and want to go downstairs and cheat on my allergy diet with a hostess mini doughnut. So much for the depth and prose of cindigodotcom.

Changing winds, possible evacuation. This calls for one more margarita. We’re here at Kevin’s house. His evacuated parents, their dog Niles and a mom of a friend are here too. We just cooked dinner and have all the internets and televisions on awaiting further instructions.

I guess Mexico tomorrow is out of the question since Chula Vista and the border is en fuego. All this burning of houses, injury and general trauma is bad and all, but when it starts to interfere with my international life of leisure, that’s when I have to draw a line.

If you would like to watch our progress or peril. We’re in the mid lower left corner where the 15 and the 56 intersect. Near Scripps Poway Parkway.

http://media.signonsandiego.com/fires/


?K?J



dinner in SD
Originally uploaded by cindigodotcom.

Guess where I am? I know, the picture of me isn’t going to help. This video might though.

Alright, different fire, but….you know, good footage and all.

San Diego is burning. We’re a mile away from the evacuation zone. The real fire and evacuation zone. There’s smoke covering everything and a fine layer of ash on all surfaces. All work is canceled and people were warned not to go on the freeways.

We’re hanging around the house today in case we get the word to scram and have to throw all the computers in the car and run (maybe to Mexico for happy hour margaritas….just a thought).

This fire trumps the entry I was going to write about my battery dying twice and having to have it replaced by the Triple A mobile battery unit. In a way, much better, because that entry was going to blow much worse than this one. At least the pirate party was fun.

Here’s something that I realized about myself while laying on Troy and Heather’s floor, listening to the hum of the fish tank while postponing the official start of the day: If I call you a “jerk”, I’m really mad. If I call you a “jerkball” I’m just playing.

Also a pet peeve of mine is when people use the word “is” together twice in a sentence when they ask a question. Example: My question is, is should I learn how to speak properly. Now that I’ve told you this, you will hear it everywhere.

One of Andy’s biggest grammatical pet peeve’s is the improper use of “literally”. We get laughs out of this one several times on a daily basis. It seems like most everyone, especially in media, misuses this one. Example: It was so hot, I was literally on fire.

And still, I’m not ready to start the day.

In case anyone was worried, I’m back in Vegas in one piece. I’m pretty tired and can’t even imagine what the other two feel like having to go to work yesterday morning.

The drive home was uneventful, except for getting hustled at the border by a really, cute, sad, thin six year old girl and her younger brother.

I made the mistake of looking into her huge, brown, pleading, hypnotizing eyes. She caught me off guard. I head a noise and turned to my left. I tried to ignore her but then she started tapping on the window with one tiny finger, really softly. It was comic and heartbreaking all at the same time. I emptied out my change holder of all my Mexican pesos, maybe three bucks American.

For an hour and a half, you barely could look out of any of the windows, kids juggling, mothers with babies begging, guys selling bizarre lawn statues and huge crosses with plastic Jesus’ attached. Twice guys tried to wash my windshield, and twice I had to turn on my windshield wipers to make them go away.

A potentially ridiculous and trainwreck of a situation has turned into the most fun ever. A couple of days ago a few friends of mine and I were thinking about driving from Vegas to San Diego for a concert. This instead has turned into a crazy weekend trip to Mexico. We left at five on Friday and need to get the people with jobs back by 6 am Monday morning.

I have gone through a full gamut of emotions on this short but eventful journey. Feelings of eleation, depression, homicide, exhaustion and now, peace as we’re sitting out in the sunshine eating string cheese and drinking beer with couchsurfer Rob in La Mission Mexico (between Rosito and Ensenada).

I have been told that in one hour I am going to experience the best margarita I’ve ever had.

We’re driving the RV to the hockey park today. Andy has play offs and a large chunk of time between games. Wish us luck. We haven’t driven this behemoth in about eight months. I have visions of getting a mile away from home and something blowing up.

It’s so hard to remember that we now have a roof top rack on the top of the Element. I cannot drive under certain things that I could easily fit under before.

By the time I realized what that “swooshing” noise was while cruising around in the Planet Hollywood Casino and Hotel garage, it was a little to late. I turned on my hazards and cringed every time I had to pass another low hanging concrete slab.

Luckily, the roof case is a little “squishy” and the clearance was maybe only a half inch too low. The only damage was two vicious looking scrapes down either side of the top of the “pod”. I’m thinking maybe a warning sticker in bright yellow pasted in my field of vision with a black “stick figure” Element with a roof rack being torn off by a car wash entrance might help. Or possibly just a post-it-note with RRDD (roof rack dumb dumb) scrawled on it.

In other non interesting ear gauging news, I found out that to do what I wanted to do with the hollow plug and a ring inserted into it, I would have to have a 0 gauge. What this means to those of you not familiar with this sort of thing is, I would have to have a hole the size of a number two pencil in my earlobe. I wasn’t very excited about this prospect. I decided to stick with the original size of 8 gauge witch is about the size of a peppercorn. I ordered these which look a little Chaka Zulu in the picture, but I’ve seen people wearing them in the real world and they don’t look it. I did research on Mastadon tusk and, for reals, they are.

We just got Dance Dance Revolution for the Wii. Click here if you would like to see a pretty accurate representation of my skill level. Although not shown in the link is my extra special added personal dance moves that I like to call “getting dizzy and nearly falling down” and “kicking my own ankles out from under me”. They’re not copyrighted or anything, so feel free to use them in your very own DDR experience.

We’re back in the RV. I love it. I missed being in here so much. It’s like living in a fun, cardboard, refrigerator box fort with my best friend. Although Andy’s first night back wasn’t very good for him. We think it might have been the last slice of pizza from the MGM, but, we’ll never really know what kept him up all night writhing in searing agony and eventually, against all of his natural instincts, puking in the painfully small, non private RV bathroom.

I have only known Andy to puke twice before this time. Both were alcohol related. Once on New Year’s Eve when a friend knew the bar owners and they left bottles of Jagermeister out on the bar to drink at will. I won’t embarrass him any more by telling the whole sorted story of me driving him home in a friends car and him hanging out the passenger’s window throwing up on the side of the car. The other time was when I was out of town and he went out with the peer pressuring hockey team. I only saw the aftermath of the evening with one hungover husband. I’d say that’s a pretty good record for five years.

I was worried about him last night, but he seems to have come through this trial of fire alright.

Did I mention that I am elated that baseball is done for this year?