right back where we started from

{ coronado wins the pretty award. }

Spent the last few days in pure California surf+sun which was, as Ren would say, pretty fabby. There were about a million posts to go along with it, but of course now that's all been swept away in the lazy afternoons and I'm left with the bits and pieces. Sad for my own journaling purposes, but all the better for you (dear, patient, oh-so-small readership of mine) who now get the Reader's Digest edition.

And hopefully, eventually, I'll be back on some sort of real blogging schedule. Until then . . .

1. we went to sea world and now I would like a baby otter for keeps, please.

So apparently when they say SOAK ZONE, you get wet. And not like summer sprinklers or a third-world shower, but cannonball off the high jump. Despite the douse, second row was a win---the only thing better than Sea World? Sea World with my little brother.

2. hugh jackman is a yes.

First of all, Redbox is genius. But when I got Australia for the night, O warned me that I wouldn't like it. Then that I would make fun of it. And then that it would just drive me crazy/make me mad/be really frustrating. So maybe it was all that low expectation that made this film so completely dazzling. I adored it. All of it. Beginning to end.

Beyond the brilliance of Nicole's classic clothing? Art Direction. Slow, classic feel. Love story. Pet wallabies. David Wenham as villain. Red rock + blue sky. Drover. Convinced, or do I need to say more?

3. dried bartlett pears might be better than candy.

End of.

4. replay potpourri, take three.

Took in a weekend show at the National Comedy Theater in San Diego, a local improv group that claims national attention. Should've been my worst nightmare, seeing as Sefton had to practically hold my hand through Year 11 rounds of Spacejump, but watching improv is a different thing entirely. It's quick, it's smart, and it's guaranteed clean, a sure-fire formula for any Friday night. Plus it's in a small, somewhat sad sort of theater atop an unfettered row of pubs and cafes where kids in skinny jeans and beach curls lounge on stairs and rooftops---all amounting to a certain sort of artsy-cool that makes you feel like you've found something to write about.

Also, the troupe deserves every word of praise they've won. If you're in the neighborhood, I say go.

5. there once was a battle for san diego bay.

It wasn't long, and it was hardly terrible, but I learned all about it on an 1847 revenue cutter in an afternoon sail out to sea. This was the same adventure with the sea lions, the dolphins, the Vegas jock wearing a sea-sickness bracelet that turned out to be a graduation cuff, and the unfortunately required combination of running shoes, jeans + sweatshirt. But it was also four hours of gentle travel with a spot of sun, and I loved it all.

6. I always did like Tevye.

Coronado was new for us, and while it was worth the week San Clemente still feels like home. We spent an afternoon back at T-Street and even the freeway signs brought joy to my soul---there is much to be said for tradition, especially when you toss it in with childhood. I love that beach from point to pier, no matter grey sky or spring sea. Having Las Golondrinas up the street isn't all that bad, either.

7. oh. and olivia's bringing sexy back.

{ as always. }