No Shoes, No Shirt, CANDY

Today was HOT in San Diego. Hillcrest, to be specific, felt like a boiling concrete basin. I stepped out of the office only once, to stroll about five blocks to the nearest candy shop. Not for my own indulgence; I was way too sun-baked by the time I got there to be excited about chocolate or candies.  I was on a mission to get Halloween-themed treats to arrange into Oster and Associates gift mugs. I finally reached the Candy Depot, across the street from a great restaurant with a 70’s retro theme and clever menu named Snooze. The first time I went there was in August with Julie; I had huevos rancheros and ‘OMG! French Toast.’ Crazy good.

It’s probably a good thing, but this candy store was out of my very favorite candy.

Chocolate Covered GUMMY Bears

Chocolate Covered Gummy Bears should never be ‘gummi,’ unless they are animated bears. They are chewy, chocolately and delicious. I’ve made my own rendition many times, usually subbing milk chocolate with dark. It’s quite a process, though; you should make your own batch of chocolate covered gummy bears if you really enjoy standing over a stove for at least an hour. As long as you have wine, it can be fun – and it offsets the price of these typically expensive little guys.

After a day of candy and fall at work, I retreated to the west, back home to the ocean. It was almost too much work to slip into my bathing suit before heading out to the beach. I went straight for the water – the waves were actually big today. I swam out to where two surfers awaited the perfect ‘left’ and just floated around. I’m sure they thought I was nuts out there in just my bikini. Numb to the water temperature, I was pitched up by each set, and didn’t want to swim back until the setting sun cast its last ray. Several hours later, I’m still sitting in my bathing suit and I know I’m covered in salt and sand.

Sexy Room

I’m currently waiting for my Simple Roasted Pumpkin Seeds to be done roasting. I ‘spiced things up’ (: and they smell really good. I’m a sucker for ambiance, and even though I’m sitting alone – at least the room looks sexy. Vanilla candle and Michael Buble.

Feel free to check out other photos I took today, please excuse the excessive use of tilt shift. iPhone 4S is cool, but not nearly as cool as the DSLR I’ll have as soon as I can manage it.

Here’s my stream: Thea’s Pictures


I’ll never be a fish


This is Baxter, the newest addition to the BK Lounge. He is a beta fish. Baxter lives in a square tank; he has a bamboo corner and marble floor. Like me, Baxter likes to people-watch. He is a quiet observer. He casually circles his tank, watching five girls go about their daily routine. Walking, talking, cooking, talking, dancing, brushing, sipping, talking, chugging, washing, baking, sleeping, spilling, breaking, laughing, dancing all around his high post on our granite counter top.

His habitat is static, and his water does not move with the pull of a tide or become jarred by a heavy wind. He swims in circles, occasionally eating particles that ripple the surface above him or slurping scum from the crevasses of his marble bedrock.

He watches Taylor bake bread, after bread, after delicious bread. He sees Kassi apply Neosporin meticulously to yet another accumulated flesh wound. He eats the same pink pebble snack everyday and he has no enemies to name.

He reminds me of a fish I knew named Fred. He was my mom’s fish. As giant a goldfish as they come, Fred was trapped in that slippery body, capable of most things human, I’m sure of it. He would stick his giant fish lips to the glass wall of his tank that imprisoned him and blow bubbles at his visitors. When he wasn’t trying to speak to us, Fred had only one thing on his agenda.

Fred’s Agenda

He was part Koi, maybe – with a bulging head and protruding eyeballs. Fred was the size of a child’s fist. When he wasn’t swimming, the weight of his belly would drag him downwards like an anchor.

Like all fish, Fred wasn’t expected to last forever. I was away at college when he passed – mom called me with the bad news. Fred Jr. succeeded him (not for long), and now, Wally swims alone in that tank, nestled in a corner by a great bay window overlooking my parents backyard.

My favorite fish used to be the Humuhumunukunukuapua’a, Hawaii state fish. The name rolls off your tongue. First time I ever saw one in the wild was the same day I got sea-sickness for the first time. My face turned green and I was clammier than E.T. My only defense was to free-roll around on the floor of the snorkeling boat in my sherry robe.

I’ll never be a fish.