Last week, before I started my anti-depressant and took the mental rocks out of my backpack (Thanks Jenn for the analogy), my best friend came for a visit from Chicago.
I can’t tell you the load of good it did me to talk to someone who’s known me for over 20 years and says she’ll continue to love me even if I lost all my marbles. For several days there, Lis kept me occupied and talking and expressing, which temporarily rendered me less depressed. In fact, might I volunteer that I even had some fun? I wasn’t sure it’d be possible, but she managed to pull it out of me.
So I thought I’d include some of the stuff we did while Lis was in town so in case you ever find yourself blue in San Diego, you’ll know just what to do:
Coffee and Thrift Shops
First off, I picked Lis up from the airport and we took to the first coffee shop we found for a long talk, followed by a Goodwill shopping excursion that rocked our socks. I managed to find several tunic-length t-shirts with enough billow around the mid-section for ample tummy camouflage. Lis got some cute capris and a lacy cami. Unfortunately, the trip was slightly marred when I recounted that on my last trip to Goodwill, I’m pretty sure I touched some dressing room poo and unwittingly smeared it on my glasses.
Shopping! At a Bar!
One night we headed to the Hard Rock Hotel downtown for some sample sale shopping and a couple of drinks. I pretty much kvetched the whole time about how hard it was to thumb through clothing racks with a glass of red wine in my hand, but I never did put that glass down. And thanks to that glued-to-my-hand goblet (and a small smidge of economic sense), I resisted purchasing a jade pendant I’d stalked all evening.
I’m convinced that if the world were to end during a sample sale, the women would eat each other. It gets downright mob mentality and elbowy at these things.
A Hike in Uncharted Territory
I’m lucky enough to live close to San Diego’s beautiful Sunset Cliffs — rugged, craggy terrain that has the unfortunate reputation of crumbling into the sea, sometimes with humans on them. Either way, Lis and I were up for the challenge and we set off down some trails with no destination in mind. We scrambled down pebbly paths, used ropes to scale cliffs, and happened upon a creepy Satan-worshipping hobo encampment (think freaky graffiti on boulders in a crack in the earth where the sun don’t shine). We also hopped rocks, evaded the high tide, and waded in froth. We went completely baja (as much as two 40-something, urban-dwelling woman can) and it left us delightfully invigorated.
Right up until my calves fell off.
Sushi and Karaoke.
Turns out? Not a melodious combo.
Still, I did it. Public karaoke was on Lis’ bucket list and I obliged. This was big because singing in front of people is my biggest fear. It has to do with the sucking.
And the song we sang?
Don’t make me tell you, don’t make me tell you, don’t make me tell you.
I just can’t do it. Just know that it was Friday night and the lights were low, we were looking for a place to go. Plus, the night was young and the music, high.
Guess what? I bought skinny jeans! Also, guess what? I’m taking them back!
See, I bought a size 2 (THIS is hilarious) because I didn’t like the way the 6s pooled about my knees. So, follow the logic here…if I bought jeans that were two sizes too small and uncomfortably tight, there’d be no knee pooling! Of course, I neglected to think of the gut and butt pools. Lis assured me it’d be all right, but I find that in this one instance, she was incorrect.
So there you’ve got it. I do hope you enjoyed this step-by-step guide to blues-busting in San Diego. I heartily recommend all the excursions listed here, with the sole exception of the colon-collapsing denim purchase.