This Is How We Do: Santa Barbara, CA

Straight stuntin’, yeah we do it like that.

Today is January 29, and I sit here right now miserably sick with the flu. The honest-to-god, body-ravaging, flu-shot-should-have-prevented-this-what’s-the-use-of-even-getting-a-flu-shot, flu. I can deal with body aches; that’s what Advil is for. I can deal with a fever; that’s what Tylenol is for. However, I absolutely cannot deal with not being able to eat anything except toast and yogurt. I can’t handle that. I’ve been sick since early Monday, and that means that I’ve now gone 48 hours without any real food. I would kill for a burrito…

Halfway There: Pismo Beach, CA

The point of no return.

After I make my first (five) million, I’m quitting my job and moving here.

Gish (Road): San Jose, CA

Why yes, I would love to listen to some Smashing Pumpkins right now, thanks for the suggestion!

Last Friday Night: Santa Monica, CA

Glitter all over the room, pink flamingos in the pool.

Last weekend, I made my now-routine drive up the 101 to the Bay Area. It was all so familiar to me, the scenery, the traffic, the road itself. The only thing that made this drive stand out was the fact that this was the final drive I would be taking in my Blue Camry.

The Hunger Games: San Rafael, CA

The REAL Deal!

If you’ve been following the weirder news that comes out of my town, you may have heard that the Los Angeles City Council has officially adopted a resolution endorsing Meatless Monday. This is all well and good, except that tonight is Monday, and I don’t have a whole lot of meatless options in my freezer or fridge. Looks like it’s a dinner of quesadillas and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for me. While I ponder less starving-student-styled culinary options, let’s go back to the halcyon days when citizens were free to eat what they wanted to, on any day of the week. The halcyon days of… four weeks ago.

Lost!: Sonoma County, CA

Just because I’m losing…

Here I am, about to make a left hand turn from one non-descript road to another non-descript road. Honestly, it’s hard to keep track of where I’m at sometimes, especially if I’m unfamiliar with an area. It’s hard to know which road is which when there are no discernible markings or guide signs. It’s even harder to know where I’m at when I’m completely lost.

My Name Written All Over It: Lockwood, CA

This is truly a thing of beauty and distinction.

I have been waiting to write about this little town for SUCH a long time. It’s a town that maybe a half dozen of you have ever heard of; a place that none of you have ever visited. I don’t care. I must get the word out about this monument to all civilization. This town is majestic, this town is magnificent, this town… has my name written all over it.

Patchwork: Tiburon, CA

Peace.

People like to group every community in the greater Bay Area into one lump as “San Francisco”. Ignorant bands who play at the Paramount Theatre or the Oracle Arena ask “San Francisco” how they’re doing. First of all, Don’t. Don’t do that. Oakland is to San Francisco as San Bernardino is to Los Angeles. San Jose is to San Rafael as Anaheim is to Malibu. If you don’t understand either of these analogies… then I’m not sure what to tell you. “Apples and oranges” doesn’t even BEGIN to describe it.

The Six-Hour Tri-Tip: Nipomo, CA

Worth it? Obviously.

If there is one thing that living in a big city has taught me, it’s that the best food is almost always found in out of the way places – holes in the wall, if you will. Forget your Urasawas and Yamashiros, the best sushi I’ve ever had was from a now-defunct tiny restaurant tucked away in a run-down strip mall in the shadow of UCSC. I firmly believe that the best tacos in Los Angeles come from a truck that operates only at night in the parking lot of a 76 station. And on that note, some of the best barbecue you can get may come from a place far outside of town, next to an empty lot.

Exit 161: Santa Barbara County, CA

Its mystery is incomprehensible.

Okay, this has kind of bugged me for years. As you may know by now, I make somewhat frequent trips up and down the 101 freeway between Los Angeles and Northern California. I may go up and down the road about a half a dozen times per year, in fact. Along the way, I drive through some of the most beautiful and diverse land there is in the state. However, every time I pass Exit 161, I just have to ask myself: What The Hell Is This???