Woke up somehow hung over without having consumed any alcohol.

Cat barf on carpet.

First attempt to make coffee unsuccessful because I did not use water.

Opened cat food can in wrong direction so that minute particles of wet cat food went in my eye. Eye care advice: do not put cat food in your eye.

Inexplicable communication from government agency regarding money.

Rushed shower to meet friends for lunch. Therefore had not completely removed soap from hands before putting in contact lenses. Eye care advice: do not put soap on a contact lens and then place it in your eye.

Lunch with friends was good!

Santa Ana wind gusts to 60 mph. High tension lines flailing in traffic with arcing and explosions. Trash cans bouncing down the street like Rover from The Prisoner. Big-ass brush fire up off Santiago with at least one severe burn victim.

Inability to clean house; spiral of shame.

Kéan Coffee: Good coffee. Ibuprofen and ranitidine. LA Times food section full of inexcusably bad writing, particularly from S. Irene Virbila. I maintain that she is one of the Andy Kaufman clones or possibly a tulpa manifestation of the narrator of The Debt to Pleasure. Examples today:

A fresh spirit is blowing through the Paris dining scene… …A friend who loves wine told me about Le Villaret, a small bistro with stone and half-timbered walls in the the 11th arrondissement, Paris’ equivalent to Silver Lake.

Also, a recipe for Blanquette de Veaux (HOW MANY VEALS ARE TO BE USED?)

Another writer suggests fancying-up mac ‘n’ cheese: My personal cheese advisor Steven Jenkins, who wrote the definitive guide “Cheese Primer,” suggests bringing the dish up to 2006 cheese-aisle standards by using a fresh goat’s milk cheese, mascarpone, Gorgonzola dolce and a sheep’s milk cheese from Spain (manchego, Idiazábal, Roncal) or from France (Ossau-Iraty). The combination is almost other-worldly, much more nuanced than the predictable original.

Start the reactor.

Back to cleaning; spiral of shame deepens. Fortunately, maternal flight delayed from 7 until 10:30 pm. Then, flight delayed further. Uh oh, I know where this is going. Yep! The flight will now miss the curfew for SNA and be diverted to LAX.

Folks I’m going to drive into L.A. to meet a flight at LAX at 1 am now. I wonder what I’ll put in my eye first?

Welcome back to the human race

I’m warming up to Ruba. There’s no where else to go that late, so this is a good thing. This evening’s entertainment included some personal history about being a Marine and a felon simultaneously and how that worked out, someone’s idiotic $500 plastic sunglasses, and a guy named Bilbo who wore too much fringed stuff and a mullet.

Now here’s the good news: Panera’s putting in a location on 17th, apparently in the former Rite-Aid. Hurray for the imminent arrival of good free wifi, lots of power plugs, decent coffee, and food.

I was listening to “Sultans of Swing” on the radio in my car and realizing that what I like about that song is the bassline, although it’s supposed to be a Guitar Asshole Song.

Finally, the National Weather Service agrees that our weather has been all fucked-up:

The heat that scorched Southern California this past weekend was not only record breaking…but largely unprecedented in recorded history. Strong high pressure centered over the southwest United States sent easterly flow and strong sinking and compressing motion into Southern California that maximized the heating. Monsoon moisture also contributed to the heat by keeping the minimum temperatures up…and numerous daily high minimum temperature records were also broken for much of the last week.

Several high temperature records on Saturday were the all-time highest for the entire period of record (see details below). This is particularly remarkable in Escondido since the record dates back to 1900. At San Diego Lindbergh Field the temperature peaked at 99 degrees…becoming the hottest day since September 25 1989…which is still the last 100-degree day on record.

Also remarkable for areas near the coast was the time of year for this extreme heat since several daily records were not just broken…but shattered (by 16 degrees in Escondido!). normally onshore flow with a marine air presence dominates the weather near the coast at this time of year…so record high temperatures are not as high as they are during the late Summer and early fall…when Santa Ana conditions are usually the cause of high temperature records and are more likely to occur.

joliet prison and 99 years, turn turn to the rain and the wind

Car Wash WIndshield

I talk back to the car radio a lot, particularly when it’s not making sense. Today I heard a commercial shilling for a local supermarket chain’s loyalty program. The pitch was that you were supporting local schools because they’d give the kids a pencil for every 400,000 cucumbers sold, etc. The ad was pure SPIN selling, starting with “Education is so important. Our schools need new books and new computers all the time so children can progress. And there’s something you can do to help!” At which point I yelled “YEAH, YOU COULD PAY YOUR FUCKING TAXES!” That’s when I noticed that my window was opening and that the motorcyclist next to me was grinning at me.

Dinner: Chilled poached salmon with mayonnaise and dill; toasted pita bread with a dollop of hummus and fresh ground black pepper; caprese salad with fresh tomatoes on vine, fresh ovolini mozzarella, fresh basil, and good olive oil. Time to prepare: 15 minutes.

I was at Kéan for just an hour or so today, to cool off and slurp a cold coffee beverage. Rich unhappy people have such scrunched-up, sour faces even when they’re experiencing pleasures most of the world will never see. Looking dissatisfied when you’re having a dark chocolate mocha milkshake in an air-conditioned cafe in Paradise just after buying an iPod must be difficult, but they manage it.

At Trader Joes a plastic surgery disasters woman in her fifties was dragging her husband around hectoring him about their purchases. She’d perch angrily next to some item and pick it up: “Do you want these? Do you like yellow mustard? I like Dijon mustard. Do you want it? Are we going to get Dijon mustard?” He was a tired Tommy Lee Jones who didn’t say much except “Okay,” or “Go ahead.”

90 degrees and humid means that all the beautiful people were showing flesh today. Including the very genuinely beautiful ones and not just the ones who had purchased the standard of beauty as an aftermarket option. A six-footer surfer boy, all tanned abs and long bones and bleached hair-mp, was looking at frozen food next to a hourglass-figured blonde beach goddess with honey-colored skin and shockingly bright blue eyes. They were unaware that they were a Guess! ad because they were trying to figure out which kind of peas to get.

The flower shop next to Kéan has an appropriately fancy name, but their sign with their url on it looks like they’re selling the flowers eaten by a demon rather than those painted by an Impressionist. It’s not as obvious as “powergenitalia” but they should have realized.

I am currently maintaining crushes on at least three unavailable women. Go me!

In musical news, I’m going to see Steve Wynn this Friday night. It may well be a real Dream Syndicate reunion show of some kind. I have an extra ticket if you’re interested and can go with or meet me at McCabe’s Guitars in Santa Monica.

I have “Percy’s Song” as done by Fairport Convention in my head.

Our municipal drains were insufficient for today’s inch of rain.

Hurray, I got to see mahakala today! She was at D’s for a bit this afternoon, where I fled after my shrink appointment. It was Old Home Week as other people I rarely see also showed up. Then off to the Indian Burial Ground Coffee House of Doom to see catamorphism and David, who were really nice. We gabbled about big ideas for a while. Amazingly, I was not dragged to Hell by slimy green arms or held down while Morlocks carved swastikas into my nuts or anything. Maybe that curse was a one-time thing. About the coffee house, not catamorphism, silly.

Ate some pasta and an omelette. The cat is freakin’ neurotic lately, clingy and demanding and making that weird barking sound she only makes when she’s demanding something. A fair amount of remedial cat cuddle was necessary to get her back into a humming pleasant state.

After shrinkage I took some photos down the street at the shuttered and crumbling Children’s Nuthouse on Dover. There’s no more reliable source of undergraduate-literary-magazine style urban decay ‘n’ despair than a closed mental institution!

745 Dover Drive #1

The rest of the set is here on Flickr if you need more anomie ‘n’ ennui.

I myself was doing great today until sometime after I came home and then the bad mood 16-ton weight fell on me. Oops.

bang bang, i’ve got mine

One of my favorite states of being is the sweaty, slightly congested, and fully satisfied glow after eating a good curry. That’s the state I inhabit now after making a pot of chicken curry and eating a couple of servings of it over basmati rice. The rice cooker makes perfect basmati if I press the “quick cooking” button.

Today I was driving through the Edge of Civilization portion of South County (Foothill Ranch, Portola) which is a set of brand new shiny suburbs and malls. At one point I looked at the car next to me at a stoplight. It was a brand new Mercedes sedan, with one male occupant in his forties. He had perfect hair. He was smoking a cigar, which being a nerd I recognized as a Hoyo de Monterrey Prensado Oscuro. And his car stereo was blaring… …an evangelical sermon. Acres of Diamonds, people, Acres of Diamonds.

I saw a blue Mustang with the plate: MEMERY too.

touched by an anvil

My day: some work, therapy, hanging around at D’s, Trader Joe’s, home.

Currently I’m making some oven-fried chicken and baby dutch potatoes with spinach & curry spices. Sort of an almost Saag Paneer thing.

At TJ’s the hottest woman ever to live on the surface of the planet was buying valentiney things for someone who is, at least tonight, way luckier than me. It was hard not to follow her through the aisles in a dog-like manner.

C’mon rain, actually rain tonight! Dear God the curry smell is making me something something.