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January 27, 2007
Only In San Diego
Blame Mrs. Smash for sending this to me! (My comments are in the parentheses, of course.)
Only in San Diego...
Your high school had a surf team. (My high school yearbook included a photo of actual underwater basketweaving, too.)
You can correctly pronounce Tierrasanta, La Jolla, Rancho Penasquitos, San Ysidro, Otay Mesa, Jamacha, Jamul, Cuyamaca, and El Cajon.
There are four distinct seasons: Summer, Not Quite Summer, Almost Summer, and Oh Hey Look Its Summer Again.
Chula-juana is a real town.
Your house is worth more than some small countries. (Or one month's rent is equal to a year's worth of house payments anywhere else.)
You know what MB, OB, and PB stand for. (Not to mention IB.)
Every street name is either in Spanish or Spanish related, and you're surprised when other areas don't have this. (Except for new developments, where they insist on cutesy names like Fox something or other.)
You can determine the accuracy of someone's "I'm ghetto" claim by knowing their high school. For example, El Camino High School or Crawford High School.
You see weather forecasts for four different climate zones in the same county, and aren't remotely surprised. The Micro Climate Weather (a common phrase for local "meteorologists", and a true necessity when you consider San Diego county -- which is the approximate size of Connecticut -- has something like 13 of the 17 world climates).
You've gone to Mt. Helix in July and known you still need a jacket. (Same can be said for Mt. Soledad quite often, especially if you aren't walking around. And don't even get me started on how hot it gets up in the MOUNTAIN mountains. It's inversion layers and other such stuff.)
You've tailgated at Qualcomm Stadium, and for bonus points, also tailgated when it was Jack Murphy Stadium. (I have more experience with Jack Murphy days than the Q, but I still get the points.)
You have a favorite -- the WAP or the Zoo. (Or you claim a bit of each because they're both so unique.)
You've been on a field trip to see an Imax movie at the Reuben H. Fleet Science Center. (I get bonus points because I've been going there since it was the "Space" center.)
You still call it the Del Mar Fair. (Yep, just like I still call Costco "Price Club".)
You say "I'm going to the track" and people know what you mean. (Or you say "I'm going to Del Mar" and people also know what you mean.)
You understand what May Gray and June Gloom are. (And then there's July Fry with a dash of pepper. Don't ask. Just nod and pretend you get the joke.)
A famous skateboarder/surfer lives in your town. (Or you know local musicians who also dabble in skate/surf, or who have achieved world fame and yet you sit around drinking beer with them because they're just living the life of a San Diegan.)
There's a North County, a South County, and an East County but no Central County. (And you know it doesn't matter because "central" San Diego is so...)
"Mossy Nissan! Mossy Nissan! Mossy Nissan Moves You!" (As much as that sticks in your head, all you really want to do is punch Forbes Riley in the nose because she's so obnoxious in those Mor commercials.)
You know what it means when two guys are walking in Hillcrest. (And you don't really care. It's the guy with the ginormous lobe expanders and the spike through the nose that makes you look. But only on occasion.)
You know what it means when a girl in a short skirt is walking on El Cajon Blvd. (And you don't really care. Unless she's your sister/mom/best friend.)
You've been stuck in the Horton Plaza parking structure traffic after a Padres game. (Or Hazard Center, Mission Valley, Fashion Valley, or just about anywhere remotely near Petco Park or Qualcomm Stadium.)
You know what "The Merge" is, and will plan your entire day around not being on it during rush hour. (That goes double for "The Split". Or you know all the ever-changing backroads between your house and wherever you need to get to avoid the traffic...or worse still, you leave extra early and hang out wherever you're going just so you won't be stuck in traffic.)
You've been to Belmont Park. (Bonus points if you remember Jeff and Jer's Whirl til You Hurl contest on the Big Dipper. Nobody expected it to last as long as it did.)
You've taken the Coaster and laughed at people sitting in traffic on the 5. (I admit to never having done this. It's shameful. Truly shameful. But in my defense, I don't live on the coast and the Coaster doesn't go where I need to go anyway.)
You know the difference between Clairemont Mesa, Kearny Mesa, and Mira Mesa -- and maybe you remember Serra Mesa, too! (I have friends who live there.)
You've gone to Sea World on a warm day and sat in the first few rows at the Shamu Show to get cooled off. (And then spent the next hour freezing because a strong breeze suddenly whipped up.)
You've been delayed at the Border Checkpoints on the 5 and the 15. (Or half your patients complain about the wait.)
There are more bands than people. (And it's hard to get people out to see the great local talent, thereby making it harder for the musicians to make money or get booked.)
Your house doesn't have air conditioning. (Or it does and you rarely run it because it costs too much or causes a rolling "gray" out.)
You know it's San Diegan, not San Diegoan, or San Diegoite. (And some of the worst of us offenders will call each other "Sand Dogs".)
Everyone has their favorite beach. (And it will differ depending on whether or not you have kids with you.)
No matter what the weather is, there is always someone walking around in a t-shirt, shorts, and flip flops. (Don't forget the baseball cap.)
You live on, near or are surrounded by hills. (Yep.)
You hate tourists and their bad driving. GET OFF THE ROAD NORTH DAKOTA, NOBODY WANTS YOU HERE. SERIOUSLY. GO HOME. (Well...not North Dakota. It's that bimbo in the Lexus SUV who bugs the shit outta me.)
You have family and or friends who have moved to Arizona. (And it's like they moved to a different country.)
You used to, and sometimes still do ride the carousel at Seaport Village. (Whaddya looking at? You gotta problem with that?)
You know someone who doesn't own pants, and have a neighbor who doesn't seem to own a shirt. (And then there are the guys!)
You know what Santa Anas are, and that they have literally nothing to do with the city of Santa Ana. (You hate Santa Anas with a passion because they make everyone cranky.)
If the menu doesn't have California burritos on it, forget it, it's not real Mexican food. (And you don't blink twice when you see fish tacos listed either.)
If you're NOT from San Diego...That sucks. (Not really, but we are pretty damn lucky.)
Posted by Da Goddess at 04:50 PM | Comments (2)
January 25, 2007
For Little Dude
Utter silliness for Little Dude. He deserves to laugh a bit this week.
I'm the baby, gotta love me
Big purple eyes, I'm very cuddly
'Specially when I hit my daddy with a frying pan
*WHACK* (Earl: "Fran!")
I'm the baby, gotta love me
First I whack you then you shove me
Flying 'cross the room, I like it!
Again!
Mama says it's too much sugar
Daddy is all perplexed
A-B-C-D-E-F,
Gee, you never know what I'm gonna do next! (Earl: "FRAN!!!!")
Wanna see me make a rocket?
Watch me put her tail in a socket
She lights up like a Christmas tree
(Ethel: "Don't try this at home!")
Whee!
I'm the baby and you gotta love meeeeeeee
Everybody!
I'm the baby, gotta love me
Big purple eyes, I'm very cuddly
Don't you think that every home should have one of me? (or three!)
I said, jump on the bed, hit my daddy on the head
Run around the house when they tell me not to
I take every chance to make a poop in my pants
But I'm the baby, and you got to
I'm the baby, gotta love me
Don't you wish there were more of me?
Daddy, Mother, brother, sister
I'm the greatest baby in prehistor'!
I'm the baby and you gotta love
I'm the baby and you gotta love
I'm the baby and you gotta love me
Gotta love me!
Posted by Da Goddess at 09:16 AM | Comments (2)
January 22, 2007
Rob's Music - "The Dutchman"
Here's the first of two songs sent to me by Rob's friend.
This one is called "The Dutchman" and it beautifully highlights Rob and his brother's musical talents.
Enjoy! Please do not hotlink the music.
Posted by Da Goddess at 03:24 PM | Comments (1)
Health Update
It's been a long time since I gave an update on what's going on with my back and such. There are many other things going on in my life, too. Family health issues, etc. Plus, it all ties in to my "case" and that means other problems and I hate doing nothing but yammer about the bad stuff. I guess I feel like a whiner when I do this, so I haven't blogged about it much.
Anyway, here's the thing...
I've seen the QME (qualified medical examiner) and he's ordered another MRI. My regular doc isn't doing anything to uncover the cause of my lower and mid back pain or to treat it, declaring she's done all she can and I'm just going to have to live with it. Um, not so much, hon. When I can barely get to the bathroom sometimes because of the weakness and/or pain, when I can barely GO to the bathroom, when I can't sleep...don't you think there's something significant going on? I do. And so does every other doctor I've seen. But the insurance company is only listening to the main doc. Until now.
So, the QME is stepping up to the plate. The insurance company has to go with what the QME orders. And yet, despite a year of my doc dragging her heels, they're cutting off payment (as is permissible by law, and completely, morally unconscionable if you ask me).
I'm trying to keep from stressing about this too much. Stress and back injuries do not mix well. But it weighs on my mind.
Can I go back to any sort of real work yet? No. Anything that requires me to have a schedule, requires focus and clarity of thought isn't practical at this time. I can't predict when I will have flare ups. I can't predict when I will get enough sleep. I can't predict when I'm going to be lucid. Sort of hard to plan around that, eh?
For the most part, I try to keep my thoughts to just getting around from day to day. I've let things slide that most likely shouldn't have been let go, like the research on the time limit for WC payments. But I've had to do what I've had to do just to get by, you know?
Do me a favor, if you will, and say a prayer that the new MRI (in a couple weeks) sheds light on the cause of the weakness and pain and other problems so I can get back to my old self. I miss my old life and I miss my old self.
Posted by Da Goddess at 02:37 PM | Comments (2)
January 13, 2007
Flurries
We had flurries this morning. Snow flurries.
Yeah, that's what I said, too.
Posted by Da Goddess at 11:28 PM | Comments (4)
January 08, 2007
The Hunt For Bo Carter
My hunt (locally) for tunes by Bo Carter has been stalled for a while now. I could take the easy way out and order from Amazon, but that almost seems like cheating, thank you very much. It's driving me crazy.
What's the big deal? Who the hell is Bo Carter? Will Da Goddess ever stop writing about music and go back to writing other things? The questions and more will be answered on the next episode of Soap. Okay, maybe not.
Anyhow, to answer the last question first -- yes, when the muse visits and sticks around long enough for me to interview. Now, on the first two questions...
The answer will return shortly!
Baby if you don't like my peaches, baby please don't-cha touch my tree
Baby and if you don't love my peaches, baby please don't touch my tree
And if you don't want me to have your potatoes, don't mash my digger
down so deep
Say's when I use my digger, I use it in different ways,
I dig potatoes for these women, both night and day
Baby if you don't like my peaches, baby please don't-cha touch my tree
Baby and if you don't love my peaches, baby please don't touch my tree
And if you don't want me to have your potatoes, don't mash my digger down so deep
Says when I get to use my digger, I use it like I should,
the women all cryin' your old digger, ya know, it digs and feels so good
Baby if you don't like my peaches, baby please don't-cha touch my tree
Baby and if you don't love my peaches, baby please don't touch my tree
And if you don't want me to have your potatoes, don't mash my digger down so deep
Says when I get to use my digger, I use to the side and up and down,
I can dig your potatoes better than any man in this town
Baby if you don't like my peaches, baby please don't-cha touch my tree
Baby and if you don't love my peaches, baby please don't touch my tree
And if you don't want me to have your potatoes, don't mash my digger down so deep
Sometimes it takes three inches to dig for 'tatoes, sometimes it takes four,
when I find 'em deep, you know, I mash it down some more
Baby if you don't like my peaches, baby please don't-cha touch my tree
Baby and if you don't love my peaches, baby please don't touch my tree
And if you don't want me to have your potatoes, don't mash my digger down so deep
Posted by Da Goddess at 03:26 PM | Comments (2)
Tribute To The King
His moves left crowds "All Shook Up". His style was different from anything most of his audience had heard. He was a white kid singing "black" music at a time when that sort of thing wasn't done. In fact, because of his successful blending of rhythm and blues and rock and some country twang, "race music" and "hillbilly music" labels fell to the wayside.
He changed the way Americans heard music. He paved the way for many and has been credited by countless artists as a major influence.
I wasn't always a fan, save for a song or two. But...in the last couple years, I've developed a greater appreciation of his music and his contribution to music as we know it today.
His name was Elvis Aron Presley.
Elvis would have been 72 today. Somehow, there's a part of me that believes if he were alive he'd still be rockin' and rollin'.
"Hound Dog" - Elvis Presley
"A Tribute To The King" - Super Chikan
Posted by Da Goddess at 01:34 PM | Comments (0)