Time's Wing-ed Chariot

It was such a lovely weekend, so golden and crisp like a perfectly toasted egg bagel, that I wanted to capture that loveliness for posterity. Even though we have had no news about CCAA or "the matching room" I've been having complex feelings, a mix of anticipation, excitement and dread. I understand that no one truly knows what life changes will feel like before they've happened, but that doesn't mean I can stop myself from obsessing over what they will feel like and who I will be "when." And this obsessing seems to be taking its toll in various ways. For one thing, I've been short of breath a lot, like I can't quite fill my lungs. For another, I can't prevent myself from thinking of everything I do as potentially the last time I might do it, at least as the person I know myself to be right now. It doesn't help that people keep telling us that everything will change, EVERYTHING. This is curious to me, because how can I process that idea? I mean, will I stop craving cheeseburgers? Will I no longer enjoy US Weekly? Will NIA start seeming "interesting?" How can I ponder these existential dilemmas when they are so abstract?

So, back to the egg bagel-like weekend. Saturday night I announced we were going to La Jolla. La Jolla? said David, in a tone like I was cracked. That's right, said I. I wanted margaritas at Alfonso's and some holiday strolling in the village. When I first moved to San Diego, I lived in La Jolla (well, in the cheap seats) and was enchanted by the village, its lovely shops and perch above the thundering cliffs. I have fond memories of many a night with people I no longer know, drinking pitchers of margaritas on the rocks and having the sensation, not so much of being drunk, but of being transported to a world that was not as painfully distinct as the other one. It was truly gorgeous. But David and I also had our first date there, a week after Avery's wedding. We have a framed photo to commemorate that evening, when we were young and fresh and...oh, who am I kidding. We probably weren't either of those things, but it was awfully fun.

The margaritas were as delish as I remembered (though disturbingly small, now that age and prudence forbids the ordering of pitchers) and sitting in the heat-lamped patio next to Prospect St. and dispatching the perfectly greasy chips retained all its charm. We shared some middling Mexican goodies and, dear reader, to cap off the experience: I was carded! I wanted to leap up and plant a juicy one on the haggard waitress, but she was probably just as alarmed by my radiant smile and gushing "Thank you! It would be my pleasure to show you my I.D.!"

There was a classic moment later when I was admiring the holiday finery in Express (with David uncharacteristically feigning interest) and I pulled out a hip-length pink silk top, caftan-style with a fitted bodice. "This is pretty!" I crowed. "It is pretty!" David agreed (insert Australian accent) "But that dress is VERY short!" I almost fell over laughing.

Sunday my nostalgia raged unabated, so I announced we would be hiking in Torrey Pines after a terrace lunch at Pacifica Breeze in Del Mar. Scrumptious! The sun was winking through the eponymous trees and the horizon was sharp as a paper cut, so clear was the day. For some reason the beach trail access was closed (erosion, perhaps?) and the vehicle entrance fee has soared to six dollars (!) but such details could not dampen our enthusiasm once we began our stroll through the scrub and sand, the blue sea spread out before us, smooth as glass.

As if we were foot-loose and fancy-free (and for the moment we are), we dashed home and changed into evening wear in five minutes, dashing out again to meet Renee, et al in the East Village (across from Petco Park) at a new restaurant called Soleil @ K for drinks and tapas, and then on to Dizzy's to see her band Erroneous Funk live for the first time. They rock! One of my favorite aspects of the performance was watching the obvious delight in the band members' faces as they discovered new riffs in their jazz improv, and pursued them with gusto. They were delightful (though that place is too loud for the size!)