Thursday, March 08, 2007

Bountiousness! - Thursday 3/8/2007

Jenks may be vying for My New Best Friend status. She arrived today with an armload of loose teas... for me!

The Oolong. The Ooooooooolong.

Fellow tea freaks, back me up on this. The full tender leaves. The rich color. This is a thing of beauty.

Thank you thank you thank you, Jenks.

In Training - Wednesday 3/7/2007


Today I started a serious regimen of croissant lifting.

Only 5 points. Or maybe 7, if we're being honest. Those of you who know what I mean, know what I mean.

Walk an extra 15 minutes. It's worth it.

My Car's Butt is Cuter Than Your Car's Butt - Tuesday 3/6/2007

My Echo's is much perkier than the Suzuki's in the foreground.

Bonus photo: I've been meaning to take a photo of this Ringside Liquors sign across from the Studio City branch library. It's so great. I'd have been angry with myself if it went away and I hadn't taken a picture of it.

Tuesday, March 06, 2007

Tucson's Gone - Monday 3/5/2007

All that's left of him is his leftover oatmeal.

And even that's been cleared away by now.

Tucson finished dealing with his (formerly) 94-year-old father's estate and headed back for Arizona today. He was a nice guy. A quiet guy. A smart guy. Thirty-seven years in military intelligence and counterintelligence. I asked no more questions about that.

We shook hands and I said it was nice almost having breakfast with him for the past couple of months. He always sat behind me. He'll be back to see the grave marker they're putting in at Forest Lawn, Hollywood, where his mother and grandparents are also buried. But it might be in May, and I'll be travelling during much of May.

It felt kind of creepy turning around to take this shot. I mean, how weird is it to photograph someone's discarded oatmeal?

I felt somewhat akin to this raven I saw at the Sand Canyon exit on my way home Monday night.

Daffodils! - Sunday 3/4/2007

Why so early, daffodils?

I fear for their safety. I question their sanity.

Sunday, March 04, 2007

Home Appreciation Day - Saturday 3/3/2007

I was so exhausted because of work stress and lack of good sleep that by Friday night I couldn't be roused to join Hydra at the hoot (essentially an acoustic music jam). I left work early, drove home, ran errands and was in bed by 4:30. I didn't get out until 8pm when hunger drove me to the kitchen. Back to bed by 9:30. Slept until 6:30 Saturday morning.

Another 2 hour nap Saturday afternoon. Very unusual for me.

I need to do things differently this week, and not let myself get so tired again. It's dangerous. I start losing things and making stupid mistakes.

On Saturday I appreciated my darkened bedroom, and the view outside the window, and this lovely marble vase Braveheart gave me.

My Booth Without Me - Friday 3/2/2007

Rude awakening.

Someone else may consider my booth her own. My booth may actually be carrying on with all manner of strangers. How many others have staked a claim on it in how many other hours of the night?

Yes, my booth was carrying on with another woman when I arrived at 5:00 a.m. on Friday. I hope no hint of territorialism showed in my eye when I said hello to her.

I took the booth opposite. A whole new perspective on the morning.

Kevin the Thursday/Friday waiter said, "I didn't know you were going to come early!"

"Neither did I," I replied as he slid my tea set-up onto the table, "I couldn't sleep."

As soon as the other woman left, he cleared the table and asked if I wanted to move. Ha. No. Thanks. I think I can handle it.

Tucson came in a few minutes later and took his usual booth, the one behind mine. "I thought about taking yours," I joked, "Just to mess you up." He laughed and ordered his usual oatmeal, coffee and whole wheat toast. He's tricky, is Tucson. Sometimes he changes up and orders rye.

Inspired by my new digs, I veered from my usual oatmeal and hot tea or once-a-week poached eggs, rye and fruit into the realm of the omelet. (Maybe it's all this French I'm steeping myself in?) Egg beaters, mushrooms, tomatoes, onions and a side of salsa, with fresh fruit. No toast. Whoo hoo! Watch out for the wild woman across from #57 (my booth number).

Grumps came in all extra-grumpy because someone was in his booth, too. Fee fi fo fum! "There goes your whole day ruined," he said behind his hand as he passed my table.

My goodness, I hope not!

Grumps lost a lot of my empathy the other day when he talked about how he doesn't want to travel. He says he's made all kinds of money in real estate because his father passed it down to him. "My old lady mentioned going on a cruise," he said. "I told her bye-bye."

"Grumps," I said, "They've got egg-whites and tomatoes on board. You should go." Grumps will not be moved. Pah.

I had a decent hour and a half of writing. When David came on at 6:00 he took away my plate. "Wow," he said, "You had a full breakfast today!"

Sigh. One is given to wonder whether to be proud of constancy or embarrassed about predictability.

The oatmeal is cheap, hot and good for me. The defense rests.