Frozen Lifestyle

[For the first time in the month and a half since acquiring The Cell Phone (which, following Bevin's fine example, I'm thinking of naming), I enjoyed that extremely social feeling of walking someplace not-home (namely, the sadly-and-shoddily renewed Fillmore Center), being contacted by someone else not-home (namely John and Leah, in the chichi Pacific Heights part of Fillmore, many blocks north of me), and making dinner plans for yet a third not-home place (namely Night Monkey, an oddly named and unfortunately located Marina restaurant.) As I powered up Fillmore to meet the other two, laptop-in-bag-over-shoulder (I'd been at the writer's studio), I suddenly felt a. well, and b. au courant. A. has always been a given which I obviously need to take less for granted, b. is something I rarely ever feel.]

[Oh, and the restaurant? Lovely. I had ostrich for the first time. We sat in the window, drank amazing Zinfandel, and watched lots of inappropriately skinny Marina chicks run into and out of the popular frozen yogurt place next door.]

[FroYo has always seemed soooo 80's to me, but maybe that's 'cause I OD'd on the glop my college dorm had in the cafeteria, 1987-89. You couldn't really get it in Sonoma until after I left in '87, but I remember a family friend (Angie) forcing Kate and me to hit every Golden Spoon in Orange County on a visit south the summer before. Frozen yogurt was so much a part of her blonde, South Coast Plaza, mid-to-late-80's lifestyle which we country bumpkins found so alien, alluring yet repulsive.]

[Yes, I get it: Huntington's feelings of nowness in first paragraph relate to Angie's feelings of nowness in 1986. Discuss.]

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