Last night the Bay Area was rocked by a 5.2 earthquake, the biggest one to hit the area in two years. I was at home about to watch Six Feet Under. Having consumed a bit of wine and staring at the plant atop one of my speakers, I saw the plant rocking back and forth. My immediate thought was, “Cool. We’re having an earthquake.” But as with most earthquakes, it never really registers right away. Then the phone rang. I knew before I answered that it was my Dad calling from across the Bay in Emeryville. In that split second prior to answering, I also knew that my suspicion of the earth’s current shaking was correct. My Dad is an earthquake hound dog, always on alert for the latest tremor.
Yesterday as I pulled out of a parking spot at work, I kicked myself as my wheel hit the curb. Doh! The first chipped-off piece of the wheel of my new WRX. Barely visible to the naked eye, it’s knowing it’s there that gets to me. Time to order some touch-up paint.
Sunday was a chill day around the house. Jen and I did a lot of cleaning. I prepared the Saturn for its Thursday donation to the Cancer Research Institute. I could only remove one of the two Spikes Spiders mounts from the front wheels. I’ll have to enlist the help of the tow truck driver on Thursday to remove the other.
Saturday was a big day for Jen and me. We returned to Brand X Antiques in the Castro to visit the engagement ring that we had first seen the weekend before. Jen knew that it was the one. Now it has a permanent home on her hand. We also broke down and bought a brand-spankin’ new queen-sized bed from Sleep Train. Well, Jen bought it. And I’m damn glad about it. It’s incredibly comfortable.
