As I posted about earlier, I’m finally in San Diego (“America’s finest city”, according to their website) after 8 hours of travel. On the plane I sat between two guys who both wore khaki shorts, t-shirts, and sandals. I read Ron Carlson‘s excellent The Hotel Eden most of the way, except when I was watching the movie Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby, an amusing, dramatic story about a race car driver who can’t accept anything but winning. The race car element didn’t interest me, but the movie IS well done – it made me laugh out loud more than once.
The airport here is right IN the city; the planes fly a hundreds of feet over the buildings, right next to the coast, which makes for a lot of noise.
It’s hot here. The drone of air-conditioning is everywhere.
The news reported three earthquakes off the coast during the weekend, which is higher than usual. I couldn’t live here with that threat, although I’m spoiled: the only natural disasters my climate receives are blizzards.
Temperature is reported in four general areas: Coastal, Valley, Mountains, and Desert. It’s only 105 Fahrenheit in the desert today, which is around 41 Celsius.