Finest City

Right now, I'm sitting on the window seat in Jenny's place, looking out at the ocean and the palm trees and remembering why every time I come to San Diego I wonder why I don't move here.... well, move back here. I lived in La Jolla from 1994 - 1998 (minus one year "abroad") but living life as an undergrad somewhere like La Jolla doesn't give you a really good sense of the area. Jenny has shuttled back and forth between the Bay Area and North County SD since college, but swears that this time she's here to stay. I can't blame her - she's got a sweet place - a beautiful condo in Encinitas, one of the many cool, funky towns along San Diego's north coast.

What I do remember about San Diego is all about precincts. In college I was much more active in politics, and can probably tell you where you're likely to get a good reception when you're pounding the pavement on a Saturday morning to try to get a single goddamn Democrat elected in this town.

Odd sight of the day: When I left home Friday night it was rainy and foggy and this morning in San Diego it rained briefly, causing everyone in the greater area to briefly lose their mind and the sheer insanity of precipitation. We stopped by a surf expo at the Del Mar Fairgrounds and there was a guy with a huge tank on the back of a truck and he was vacuuming up the water. I guess if you were in front of a restaurant, but the fairgrounds? He was just going through the parking lot, vacuuming up the water. Go figure.