Everything reminds me.

So, weekend. It was very weekendish, what with all the not working and stuff I was up to. Yep, no work at all. Friday night... no work, unless you count cooking some pretty tasty aloo gobi (curried potatoes and cauliflower) with some not quite as tasty mustard greens and a cold, weirdly spiced salad involving lots of chickpeas, red onion, and shredded kohlrabi. I tried to call my mom, but she was busy when I had time to talk and then I was busy when she had time to talk. Such is the way of things. I need to send her some music for the road.

Speaking of music and roads, Saturday involved a nice toasty trip to Santa Cruz. First up was visiting Kevin's mom, grandfather, and uncle, who was in town for the week. He picked up an obscene amount of Ethiopian food from our favorite place and we hardly made a dent, but it was tasty. Then we all hung out in his mom's garden, picking and eating ollaliberries (a type of blackberry) and strawberries, making fresh meyer lemonade, etc. Always delightful. We followed this up, in short order, with dinner at Mobo Sushi with the Editor and Jenn in downtown Santa Cruz, which has extensive and exciting vegetarian sushi offerings in addition to its many popular fish-based rolls. After that, we went up to the Editor's friends' amazing house near the Mystery Spot and carpooled to the Rio from there. Neko Case and her band were absolutely beautiful (and apparently Neko is a big fan of casseroles, provided they aren't made with cream of mushroom soup), though I can't say the same for her opening act.

We crashed at the friends' friends' house (which was being housesat) and got breakfast at Dharma's before heading back over the hill to chill without having to be in public or outdoors. Not that there was anything chilly about it; heat is vastly overrated, especially now, with daily highs in the 90s or higher all over the Bay Area. But we watched a little Firefly, ran an errand for some pet project of Kevin's, and so on. In the evening Kevin didn't feel much like rocking, and I didn't feel much like making him drive me over the hill just so I could do some rocking, so we settled on staying here. Well, kind of. Kevin planned to call a few of his favorite restaurants in Mountain View and order one or two good, cold dishes from each. This was a time-consuming but fun project, and the only drawbacks were that by the time we settled in with our feast, it wasn't so hot as to require the cool dishes, and that the tea he picked for me at the boba tea shop was icky. (For the record, I hate boba tea. I hate pearls, I hate milky shit, and I hate stuff that's way too sweet. I just want iced fucking tea and I'd like to have options besides black, but I am not the world. Iced green tea from Tea Era on Castro is neither milky nor contaminated with pearls, but it is sickeningly sweet.)

Today I feel like all kinds of dumb little things are going wrong for me, and for some of those I spend a lot of time with, it was actually crappy. While I just had one of those days where you get every yellow light and it's excruciating to type accurately and why the fuck does my toe hurt and some kid at Target almost spilled a half gallon of cranberry juice all over me, my boss was home sick and Kevin got carted off to the ER by his coworkers for nearly fucking passing out at lunch. Dude has a fever and the most useless, vague diagnosis a clown college physician's assistant is legally allowed to hand out. He seems much better when under the influence of simple OTC medicines and plenty of fluids, though. So that's where I've been all evening.

And now I'm going to go bask in the breezy embrace of the cheap fan I just bought at Target.