There are certain moments, snippets of my past that, like sparkly ice sculptures in blinding sunlight, stop me in my tracks as if getting a punch to my solar plexus.

For some odd reason the following gem came to me today as I was speaking to someone I barely knew, about music tonight.

I was a young teen living in a log cabin in the mountains, without much access to the world, one station on the rabbit-eared tv, and a party line not for gabbing. My RadioShack Realistic clock radio, the kind where the numbers flipped like a rolodex, didn't get very good reception in the mountains. If it was overcast just right, and I hung it by its cord from the my hanging wicker chair that was chained to a beam from the rafters, I could get the top 40 countdown with Casey Casem on a Sunday night.

I remember the one Sunday evening as clearly as I'm typing this right now, actually clearer, when I was contorting the radio, and the song of my at the time short lifetime came on. Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers playing "Don't Do Me Like That" shot me like a bullet through my eardrums dazzling my brain. I didn't breathe or move through the whole song, standing holding my radio up like a weird little teen statue of liberty and waiting for Casey to tell me who it was. To celebrate, after waiting for my parents to fall asleep, I smoked half a cigarette I had stowed in my Lane miniature cedar chest, saved for special occasions such as this.

Since then, I've seen Tom Petty with and without the Heartbreakers, and one concert came close to the magic I imagined in Montana that night. It was pouring rain at the Shoreline Ampitheater, but Tom Petty played anyway. He kept thanking the crowd for coming out that night. It didn't stop raining the entire time he played, but us girls came prepared with rain gear and baseball hats. We sang Freefalling at the top of our drunken lungs and I was thankful no one could notice my tears in the rain.

Had dinner at the Forbes Mill Steakhouse in Los Gatos Saturday night and then watched Punch Drunk Love. I absolutely love that movie. It inspired me to get pudding cups today at the grocery store. Yum.
Oh and I went running with the Moxster Saturday for the first time in weeks. What a great feeling getting back out there again. I caught up on all the chores I haven't been able to do in the last three weeks. It was just great not to feel sick for a change.

Coupon - definition: something I hang onto until it expires.

Not today! I actually used my $30 off any $75 purchase at Express. They had jeans on sale, buy one pair get another at 50% off. I tried on what I thought was every version of their jean in the store (12 pairs) when I was about to give up. Sales clerk says, try these. Eureka! Bought two pairs and got a sequined tank and used my coupon. Never have the planets lined up so perfectly.

Picked up the new Acapulco Chicken Salad from J in the B on the way home. It has lime, celantro, and a little kick. No, it was kickass!

Had a nice dinner at Il Fornaio in Carmel last night. Lost my voice, however, in the process. I sound like Marlo Thomas today. "Oh Donald!"

My fruit trees are off the hook this year. My little peach tree has outdone itself. My plum tree does this every year, if I hadn't been laid out with the flu (AGAIN)the rest of this fruit would be in the garbage can instead of piled up on the ground. What a shame.













Last weekend my date let me drive his 2008 Mustang Bullit. It was kickass. 5 Speed and surprisingly easy to handle.

I'm sitting here feeling a lot better than the last few days, having coffee. In a couple of hours I'll be at the spa, getting a facial, massage and pedicure.

Tater tots rule. They are pure genius. Mini tots are my favorite, higher crunchy outside vs meaty inside ratio.

I danced so much last night I broke my shoes. There was none of that damage to the shoes when I started off the evening. How trailer parky. I didn't waver or fall. It seems I only fall when there are absolutely no obstacles around. I walk on broken shoes no problem.

Went to Hawg's again on Friday night. I love their baked oysters. Oysters and martinis are loverly.

Moxie is striking a pose, thinking she'll get her photo in Playdog. Next to her is a sign someone affixed to the corner of my yard. I gave it to Moxie for her to tear up. Note that when you want her to tear something up it's not going to happen.

I love Seth Rogan. If I were ten years younger I would jockey to have his baby. That's all I have to say about that.