Casa Walsh

I spent a lot of time just wandering around Ocean Beach. My sister had to work during the day, so I was on my own. And I couldn’t shake the East Coast time, so even on the days that Kristen could hang out I woke early and craving sunshine.

Every morning I hit the neighborhood coffee stand for a tasty cup of $1 coffee. Boston needs $1 coffee stands.

After wandering for some hours, I find lunch. And I fancy myself a less annoying Rachel Ray on “40 Dollars A Day” while acknowledging that I watch too much Food Newtork. $1.00 for cinnamon hazelnut coffee at the coffee stand, $6.20 for a spinach salad, fake turkey and bacon club, and a bottle of sparking water at the People’s co-op. I got a complete organic lunch, for the price of a sandwich at Bread and Circus. I think that day I spent my remaining $33.80 on organic champange for Christmas dinner. Glad I left Cambridge for Ocean Beach, you know, to experience another grocery culture.

I spent some time on the beach. Only the black part of the sand sticks to your hand, the rest brushes away.

I took a trip to Old Town.

I ate fish tacos. Ramone at Ye Olde Towne Mexican Cafe* makes an amazing margarita. I had two. 

*probably not the exact name of the restaurant – the margaritas were amazing.

I got to see my friend Danielle! And her boyfriend, Alan. We went to the Scripps Aquarium. We were trapped inside a shark. The shark caught Danielle caught twice. Scary.

My sister took me to the zoo!

My sister took me downtown to Sushi Deli.

Here’s the obligatory public transportation shot. Doesn’t Kristen look excited to get on the Trolley? San Diego has electric light rail – only two lines. It’s sort of expensive and doesn’t reach many neighborhoods, but it’s clean and runs on the honor system. You buy a ticket at a kiosk, and get on the trolley without showing your ticket to anyone. Kristen assured me that there are “trolley cops” who issue fines if they catch you without a ticket.  

I spent a lot of time just wandering around Ocean Beach. My sister had to work during the day, so I was on my own. And I couldn’t shake the East Coast time, so even on the days that Kristen could hang out I woke early and craving sunshine.

Every morning I hit the neighborhood coffee stand for a tasty cup of $1 coffee. Boston needs $1 coffee stands.

After wandering for some hours, I find lunch. And I fancy myself a less annoying Rachel Ray on “40 Dollars A Day” while acknowledging that I watch too much Food Newtork. $1.00 for cinnamon hazelnut coffee at the coffee stand, $6.20 for a spinach salad, fake turkey and bacon club, and a bottle of sparking water at the People’s co-op. I got a complete organic lunch, for the price of a sandwich at Bread and Circus. I think that day I spent my remaining $33.80 on organic champange for Christmas dinner. Glad I left Cambridge for Ocean Beach, you know, to experience another grocery culture.

I spent some time on the beach. Only the black part of the sand sticks to your hand, the rest brushes away.

I took a trip to Old Town.

I ate fish tacos. Ramone at Ye Olde Towne Mexican Cafe* makes an amazing margarita. I had two. 

*probably not the exact name of the restaurant – the margaritas were amazing.

I got to see my friend Danielle! And her boyfriend, Alan. We went to the Scripps Aquarium. We were trapped inside a shark. The shark caught Danielle caught twice. Scary.

My sister took me to the zoo!

My sister took me downtown to Sushi Deli.

Here’s the obligatory public transportation shot. Doesn’t Kristen look excited to get on the Trolley? San Diego has electric light rail – only two lines. It’s sort of expensive and doesn’t reach many neighborhoods, but it’s clean and runs on the honor system. You buy a ticket at a kiosk, and get on the trolley without showing your ticket to anyone. Kristen assured me that there are “trolley cops” who issue fines if they catch you without a ticket.  

I spent a lot of time just wandering around Ocean Beach. My sister had to work during the day, so I was on my own. And I couldn’t shake the East Coast time, so even on the days that Kristen could hang out I woke early and craving sunshine.

Every morning I hit the neighborhood coffee stand for a tasty cup of $1 coffee. Boston needs $1 coffee stands.

After wandering for some hours, I find lunch. And I fancy myself a less annoying Rachel Ray on “40 Dollars A Day” while acknowledging that I watch too much Food Newtork. $1.00 for cinnamon hazelnut coffee at the coffee stand, $6.20 for a spinach salad, fake turkey and bacon club, and a bottle of sparking water at the People’s co-op. I got a complete organic lunch, for the price of a sandwich at Bread and Circus. I think that day I spent my remaining $33.80 on organic champange for Christmas dinner. Glad I left Cambridge for Ocean Beach, you know, to experience another grocery culture.

I spent some time on the beach. Only the black part of the sand sticks to your hand, the rest brushes away.

I took a trip to Old Town.

I ate fish tacos. Ramone at Ye Olde Towne Mexican Cafe* makes an amazing margarita. I had two. 

*probably not the exact name of the restaurant – the margaritas were amazing.

I got to see my friend Danielle! And her boyfriend, Alan. We went to the Scripps Aquarium. We were trapped inside a shark. The shark caught Danielle caught twice. Scary.

My sister took me to the zoo!

My sister took me downtown to Sushi Deli.

Here’s the obligatory public transportation shot. Doesn’t Kristen look excited to get on the Trolley? San Diego has electric light rail – only two lines. It’s sort of expensive and doesn’t reach many neighborhoods, but it’s clean and runs on the honor system. You buy a ticket at a kiosk, and get on the trolley without showing your ticket to anyone. Kristen assured me that there are “trolley cops” who issue fines if they catch you without a ticket.  

You can make two cakes. Two! That’s citrus chiffon on the left, flourless chocolate on the right.

You can also get a head start on your valentines. Fran created this gem out of a joyful photo from the most recent J. Crew catalog:

We had trouble coming up with the perfect inside-the-card message. That’s where you all come in. I am pleased to announce the first Casa Walsh contest. Post your best (or worst) caption in the comments. The winner gets a slice of cake. “Tennis Anyone?”

You can make two cakes. Two! That’s citrus chiffon on the left, flourless chocolate on the right.

You can also get a head start on your valentines. Fran created this gem out of a joyful photo from the most recent J. Crew catalog:

We had trouble coming up with the perfect inside-the-card message. That’s where you all come in. I am pleased to announce the first Casa Walsh contest. Post your best (or worst) caption in the comments. The winner gets a slice of cake. “Tennis Anyone?”

You can make two cakes. Two! That’s citrus chiffon on the left, flourless chocolate on the right.

You can also get a head start on your valentines. Fran created this gem out of a joyful photo from the most recent J. Crew catalog:

We had trouble coming up with the perfect inside-the-card message. That’s where you all come in. I am pleased to announce the first Casa Walsh contest. Post your best (or worst) caption in the comments. The winner gets a slice of cake. “Tennis Anyone?”

I’m no jetsetter, and I hate flying, but I’ve visited a lot of airports. Arriving at the San Diego airport, I tried to recall all the airports I’ve visited (not counting refueling or plane changes: Boston, Manchester, NewYork (LaGuardia and JFK), Charlotte, St Louis (technically a layover, but my flight was delayed many hours, so I got to know the airport intimately. There are smoking booths! Right in the middle of the terminal.), Seattle, Los Angeles, Miami, Tampa, Key West, Belize City, London (Heathrow and Gatwick), Paris (Orsay), Malta, Catania (Sicily), Helsinki, St Petersburg, Moscow, and San Diego. You know how I like to declare myself an expert. On with the tips!

Get a Ride:

I convinced Elias to give me a ride to the airport, first by pouting and fluttering my eyelashes (yes, this works over the phone), second by explaining how easy it is now to get to and from the airport and how there’s no chance of getting lost.

Always Opt for E-Tickets:

I arrived two hours early, as mandated by the orange alert. I wheeled over to the line in front of the American Airlines desk, estimating about 70 people in front of me. An AA representative tapped me on the shoulder and gestures to group of passengers behind me, a second line. I moved to the end of the even longer line, relieved that I allowed so much check-in time. Then I spotted a sign for e-ticket self-check-in. I couldn’t help but feel smug as I breeze past the crowd to empty kiosks. This might be boring, old-news to frequent air travelers, but these kiosks are great. Swipe your credit card, enter your flight and baggage info, and your boarding pass is dispensed like an ATM receipt (and on the same flimsy paper). Wait a few seconds for the baggage handler to call out your name, and check your ID, and you’re on your way.

Avoid all Logan Airport Food:

With two hours to kill, I took over a table at the Terminal B restaurant. A cocktail and a bowl of soup cost me $15. Their recipe for tomato soup: Take several cans of Chef Boyardee mini cheese ravioli, strain, and heat.

Wear Non-Threatening Shoes:

The security check doesn’t live up to the orange-alert hype. I don’t have to remove my shoes (only my jacket, and, scarf – what could I conceivably hide in a scarf?), my bamboo knitting needles aren’t flagged, and I don’t set off the alarm when I pass through the metal detector. No pat-down for me today!

Stare at Your Fellow Travelers:

Spotted at the gate: one trucker hat, one feather boa (actually a long, fluffy, red scarf worn by a middle-aged woman who looks like she’s worn many a feather boa without irony), two lap dogs – one baby-substitute, one fashion accessory. The fashion accessory travels first class. You must quickly evaluate yourself when a sedated, yappy rat gets his own seat in first class, and you’re traveling coach.

Get a Breakfast Burrito at La Salsa at the San Diego Airport

I cannot stress the importance of this tip enough. San Diego is home to the La Salsa chain – what Taco Bell is like in heaven. As the eggs for my burrito were cracked onto the griddle next to the pile of fresh salsa I couldn’t understand why there was a line at McDonalds. I only ate a few bites of the burrito at the airport; I needed food-backup for the plane. In the end, I had an envy-inducing fruit plate and a super-tasty burrito. That almost made up for the turbulence.

I’m no jetsetter, and I hate flying, but I’ve visited a lot of airports. Arriving at the San Diego airport, I tried to recall all the airports I’ve visited (not counting refueling or plane changes: Boston, Manchester, NewYork (LaGuardia and JFK), Charlotte, St Louis (technically a layover, but my flight was delayed many hours, so I got to know the airport intimately. There are smoking booths! Right in the middle of the terminal.), Seattle, Los Angeles, Miami, Tampa, Key West, Belize City, London (Heathrow and Gatwick), Paris (Orsay), Malta, Catania (Sicily), Helsinki, St Petersburg, Moscow, and San Diego. You know how I like to declare myself an expert. On with the tips!

Get a Ride:

I convinced Elias to give me a ride to the airport, first by pouting and fluttering my eyelashes (yes, this works over the phone), second by explaining how easy it is now to get to and from the airport and how there’s no chance of getting lost.

Always Opt for E-Tickets:

I arrived two hours early, as mandated by the orange alert. I wheeled over to the line in front of the American Airlines desk, estimating about 70 people in front of me. An AA representative tapped me on the shoulder and gestures to group of passengers behind me, a second line. I moved to the end of the even longer line, relieved that I allowed so much check-in time. Then I spotted a sign for e-ticket self-check-in. I couldn’t help but feel smug as I breeze past the crowd to empty kiosks. This might be boring, old-news to frequent air travelers, but these kiosks are great. Swipe your credit card, enter your flight and baggage info, and your boarding pass is dispensed like an ATM receipt (and on the same flimsy paper). Wait a few seconds for the baggage handler to call out your name, and check your ID, and you’re on your way.

Avoid all Logan Airport Food:

With two hours to kill, I took over a table at the Terminal B restaurant. A cocktail and a bowl of soup cost me $15. Their recipe for tomato soup: Take several cans of Chef Boyardee mini cheese ravioli, strain, and heat.

Wear Non-Threatening Shoes:

The security check doesn’t live up to the orange-alert hype. I don’t have to remove my shoes (only my jacket, and, scarf – what could I conceivably hide in a scarf?), my bamboo knitting needles aren’t flagged, and I don’t set off the alarm when I pass through the metal detector. No pat-down for me today!

Stare at Your Fellow Travelers:

Spotted at the gate: one trucker hat, one feather boa (actually a long, fluffy, red scarf worn by a middle-aged woman who looks like she’s worn many a feather boa without irony), two lap dogs – one baby-substitute, one fashion accessory. The fashion accessory travels first class. You must quickly evaluate yourself when a sedated, yappy rat gets his own seat in first class, and you’re traveling coach.

Get a Breakfast Burrito at La Salsa at the San Diego Airport

I cannot stress the importance of this tip enough. San Diego is home to the La Salsa chain – what Taco Bell is like in heaven. As the eggs for my burrito were cracked onto the griddle next to the pile of fresh salsa I couldn’t understand why there was a line at McDonalds. I only ate a few bites of the burrito at the airport; I needed food-backup for the plane. In the end, I had an envy-inducing fruit plate and a super-tasty burrito. That almost made up for the turbulence.

I’m no jetsetter, and I hate flying, but I’ve visited a lot of airports. Arriving at the San Diego airport, I tried to recall all the airports I’ve visited (not counting refueling or plane changes: Boston, Manchester, NewYork (LaGuardia and JFK), Charlotte, St Louis (technically a layover, but my flight was delayed many hours, so I got to know the airport intimately. There are smoking booths! Right in the middle of the terminal.), Seattle, Los Angeles, Miami, Tampa, Key West, Belize City, London (Heathrow and Gatwick), Paris (Orsay), Malta, Catania (Sicily), Helsinki, St Petersburg, Moscow, and San Diego. You know how I like to declare myself an expert. On with the tips!

Get a Ride:

I convinced Elias to give me a ride to the airport, first by pouting and fluttering my eyelashes (yes, this works over the phone), second by explaining how easy it is now to get to and from the airport and how there’s no chance of getting lost.

Always Opt for E-Tickets:

I arrived two hours early, as mandated by the orange alert. I wheeled over to the line in front of the American Airlines desk, estimating about 70 people in front of me. An AA representative tapped me on the shoulder and gestures to group of passengers behind me, a second line. I moved to the end of the even longer line, relieved that I allowed so much check-in time. Then I spotted a sign for e-ticket self-check-in. I couldn’t help but feel smug as I breeze past the crowd to empty kiosks. This might be boring, old-news to frequent air travelers, but these kiosks are great. Swipe your credit card, enter your flight and baggage info, and your boarding pass is dispensed like an ATM receipt (and on the same flimsy paper). Wait a few seconds for the baggage handler to call out your name, and check your ID, and you’re on your way.

Avoid all Logan Airport Food:

With two hours to kill, I took over a table at the Terminal B restaurant. A cocktail and a bowl of soup cost me $15. Their recipe for tomato soup: Take several cans of Chef Boyardee mini cheese ravioli, strain, and heat.

Wear Non-Threatening Shoes:

The security check doesn’t live up to the orange-alert hype. I don’t have to remove my shoes (only my jacket, and, scarf – what could I conceivably hide in a scarf?), my bamboo knitting needles aren’t flagged, and I don’t set off the alarm when I pass through the metal detector. No pat-down for me today!

Stare at Your Fellow Travelers:

Spotted at the gate: one trucker hat, one feather boa (actually a long, fluffy, red scarf worn by a middle-aged woman who looks like she’s worn many a feather boa without irony), two lap dogs – one baby-substitute, one fashion accessory. The fashion accessory travels first class. You must quickly evaluate yourself when a sedated, yappy rat gets his own seat in first class, and you’re traveling coach.

Get a Breakfast Burrito at La Salsa at the San Diego Airport

I cannot stress the importance of this tip enough. San Diego is home to the La Salsa chain – what Taco Bell is like in heaven. As the eggs for my burrito were cracked onto the griddle next to the pile of fresh salsa I couldn’t understand why there was a line at McDonalds. I only ate a few bites of the burrito at the airport; I needed food-backup for the plane. In the end, I had an envy-inducing fruit plate and a super-tasty burrito. That almost made up for the turbulence.

Since I worked late on Tuesday, and because my boss is in California, I’m allowed to take the morning off.

I haven’t seen Beverly Hills 90210 in a long time. FX shows it at 9am on weekdays, and 7am on weekends, and until I get a TiVo, or the series comes out on DVD, I have to get my fix by skipping work.

Steve gets his best line of the series when his girlfriend tries to steal Brenda’s part in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, and turns all crazy on him.